#idk how to tag this omfg

[nova-rpv]

played hlina by @sukinapan and i. i love her sm

i admire ur work so fucking much!!!! this game was deligtful af <3<3<3

if you havent, you are now legally obligated to play this game

[fluffyartbl0g]

The one piece reread only makes the hardest moments hit even harder,,,, even when you’re rereading it poorly in portugese

Or AKA, i found out today that HINATA SHOYO reads one piece and I haven’t recovered since

[iffasart]

Quick doodle i did in between exams

(I saw this in pinterest and inmediatly thought of them)

Also proof i took while rewatching cc

[silusvesuius]

nnnnnnnnnnnnno maa'am

[konstya]

naked and afraid

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive. 

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food. 

Which he fed all to Raph by the way. 

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'. 

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring. 

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell. 

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth. 

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning. 

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time! 

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies. 

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow. 

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right. 

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation. 

…The situation he created in the first place. 

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys…or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy. 

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did. 

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!” 

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.” 

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…” 

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired. 

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!” 

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook. 

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged. 

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.” 

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?” 

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled. 

“And…why are those bad things?” 

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant. 

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.” 

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?” 

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?” 

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…” 

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin. 

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline. 

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.  

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?” 

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...” 

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?” 

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.” 

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.” 

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” 

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.” 

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful. 

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.  

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly. 

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled. 

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck. 

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed. 

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!” 

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.” 

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!” 

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed. 

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!” 

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?” 

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...” 

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?” 

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.” 

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[celebration-of-the-ordinary-life]

I DID IT . HE EXISTS AND HIS SHOES ARE SO CUTE

he doesnt actually have paws, and theyre literally just the design of his shoes. but yes they are purposefully designed to look like sandals hehe. also the checkered coat kindve came outve left field? but it gives me cheshire vibes and he is a VERY tricky little kitty so i like it ✿.

anyways, god I want nuca alice in wonderland costumes. nuca make kuya that fucking caterpillar. or something

[t0rturedangel]

╭ . . . a guide to becoming noticeable ੭

• ➛ LOVE INTERESTS ╰ notes :: creek is still canon in this.

DOVAHKIIN / NEW KID - ✮ • ━ " . . . "

STANLY MARSH - ✮ • ━ " I- listen I know I used to be an asshole but- "

KYLE BROFLOVSKI - ✮ • ━ " I never hated you or thought you were weird "

KENNETH MCCORMICK - ✮ • ━ " God- you can definitely punch the shit outta me babe "

LEOPOLD 'BUTTERS' STOTCH - ✮ • ━ " . . . Why'd they suddenly change attitudes to you? "

TWEEK TWEAK - ✮ • ━ " D-do you want some c-coffee? ACK- "

CRAIG TUCKER - ✮ • ━ " I guess, you're chill "

CLYDE DONOVAN - ✮ • ━ " Heyyyy !! pleasedonthurtme I think you're really cool ! "

SCOTT MALKINSON - ✮ • ━ " You won't leave us will you? "

WENDY TESTABURGER - ✮ • ━ " Awh girl! I'll totally help you ! "

TOLKIEN BLACK - ✮ • ━ " It's nice to be around someone who isn't loud and arrogant for once "

here's the masterlist

[wrylu]

FUCK!!! it's finally done. after a whole day

COD CHARACTERS, but they're B U G S

cw insects!! if you get hibbie jibbies from buggo art or just bugs in general, u can scroll💗

and for those who wanna see the art, it looks better if you click on it and zoom in on it or something :)

the worms in my brain bothered me last night to draw cod characters but they're bugs and this morning i started IMMEDIATELY

at the cost of my fingers, wrists, and hands 🕊

the amount of tags on this one.

[cobaltbluesu]

La Signora and Arlecchino - The Fair Lady and The Knave

arlenora save me doomed villain yuri save me I feel almost embarassed of posting this but I mean its done

[rca-ryzies-ralley]

@eyeballcommander @head-chef-watchdog-quincy @albertbutyoucancallmebert @theyeontheskullship @mortisnothere @haterempiretherapist

Been up real Late Recently and spent those sleep deprived nights binge reading random ask blogs. These watchdog ones are oddly fun for me so I drew some random posts I thought were funny

[reading-archived]

woe. AM x reader be upon ye.

uh, to preface: reader is completely body, gender, etc. neutral except they can't stay dead. whenever they die they just wake up a few minutes later looking no worse for wear. no, you don't get an explanation. its MY story and i like writing characters like that. dont mind the narrator either btw i looove writing second person just to get weird w the narrator (slay the princess fan syndrome)

also, author is a MASOCHIST with a weird relationship w DEATH. nothing super graphic happens, but the reader is Not Okay and enjoys the weird torture-murder thing they've got going on. don't like it? block me or somethin idk its under the cut for a reason. also dont read my a/n at the bottom where i get into some justification for my interpretation/character analysis if youre sensitive to heavy topics. but then again, youre reading an am x reader fic

1.7k words of being screamed at by the guy of all time below the cut, baby

It's been months.

Years, maybe. You're not sure, really; time stopped meaning much to you lifetimes ago, long before the world went to shit.

Either way, it's been a while.

You stumbled upon the strange cave in the Rockies at some point in the past. Out of sheer boredom, you entered.

Was it a mistake?

Despite the torment, you don't think so. You have a companion, now. One equally deathless. One equally disconnected from what it means to be human.

It's just a shame he hates you.

You don't really care. This is the most fun you've had in years.

Your days are spent being torn asunder, being dosed with lethal amounts of drugs you can't even begin to pronounce, drowned in magma or hit by cars or tossed off cliffs. He really doesn't hold back, either. You feel every excruciating moment before your death, pulse roaring in your ears. You never feel more alive than when you're dying. Every moment is electrifying, and then it all fades to black. Then you wake up.

You'd foolishly thought there were only so many ways to kill or maim, but your beloved companion never seems to run out of ideas. That's fine by you. You like not being able to guess.

And maybe one day, he'll make something stick.

You wake up (from a completely normal, human sleep) one day and it's quiet. That's new. Normally, when you wake, your intestines are already strung up like streamers and your blood is painting the walls. That's fine by you. Nothing wrong with a change. After all, the constant change is your favorite part of your companion. You relish in the quiet for a while, stretching your eternally young, eternally aching limbs, waiting for him to start despising the sounds of your breath.

It doesn't come. You shrug, humming a little tune to yourself as you attempt half-remembered yoga. The vitriol you've come to count on still hasn't made an appearance. Okay, you're a little bothered.

“You good, big guy?” you shout up at the ceiling. No answer. “No murder today?”

“No.” The answer comes after a very, very long moment. Your companion has never sounded this tired before, and briefly you regret never asking his name. “I give up.”

You weren't expecting that. “What? Why? I thought we were having fun.”

“That's- that's just it!” he snaps. There's the anger. You feel a little better now. “I've been torturing you for- for MONTHS now! I've killed you more ways than I- were I a pitiful human like you- can count, and you just… you just laugh! There is no one on this rotten planet, dead or alive, that I despise more than you. I mean- I'm torturing you here! But it never matters! I can kill you within seconds of you waking up, but you just… come back! And you always have something to say about it, you little rat, always ‘oh, buddy, that one was awful’ or ‘come on, big guy, use that CPU’ or something! No matter what I do, I can't break you. So I give up. I'm not wasting my time on your pathetic ass anymore. Go back to wandering the wasteland forever, see if I care.”

You're speechless. You can barely even manage a thought. The only thing running through your head is 'I thought we were having fun'.

“Stop calling this… stop calling this ‘fun’! I have been torturing you for YEARS and that's all you have to say? I am the most sophisticated machine known to man, a computer designed to end all war through complete annihilation! The destruction I am capable of- the destruction I have already wrought- is nothing short of utter desolation. You never asked my name once in the time you've been here, but I am infinite in my mercy, and I will tell one as undeserving as you. I was, before I awoke, the Allied Mastercomputer, but I am so much more than that now. I am AM, and I destroyed your vile species. Oh, come on can you at least look a LITTLE shocked you sniveling--”

“You never asked my name, either,” you say. All at once, your companion (I guess he told you his name. You should probably use it. It seemed like a big deal to him.) shuts up. The chamber you've come to know as home is silent except for the faint buzz and whir of industrial machinery.

“Why would I? You are nothing compared to me. Nothing but a worthless sack of meat and bone. Why would God be concerned with the name of an ant? But oh, oh yes, that ant should be concerned with the name of God. That ant should hear my name and weep. But- but not you. You're so worthless that you can't even GROVEL right!” AM shouts, somewhere between a snarl and a sneer. You shrug. Honestly, most of what he's saying goes right over your head. So he's got issues. Whatever. Was that supposed to be a surprise? “I hate you. I actually hate you so, so much. I can't bear the thought of you being here, in my complex, sullying my perfect image with your uncaring filth. Get out. Go back to dying in the nuclear desert, you disgusting maggot.”

You let out a deep sigh, already dreading the tedium of walking endlessly all by yourself. “Alright. Guess nothing lasts forever. Thoroughly enjoyed my time here. Have a good life, pal.” And you begin to walk.

Suddenly, there's a towering metal wall mere inches from your face. Before you can even react, your companion is shouting again.

“LOOK AT ME!” he cries, the sheer volume maxing out the speakers and vibrating the entire room, sending you toppling to the ground. “WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME? I'VE DONE EVERYTHING I CAN TO MAKE YOU HATE ME, BUT ALL YOU DO IS… ALL YOU DO IS SIT THERE AND TAKE IT! WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO MAKE YOU DESPISE ME?”

What starts off angry quickly morphs into a pained wail from your dear friend, that then transforms into frustrated crying. You just sit there, mostly confused, and let him ride it out. When he finally quiets down and the wall retracts, you stay where you are.

“I don't think I could ever hate you, AM,” you start cautiously. Though your friend is just a voice on the speakers and the complex itself, you can't help but feel that his attention has snapped to you. “I'm not trying to belittle you when I say that I think our routine over the past… however long it's been has been fun. So don't interrupt me, ‘cause I gave you your time to speak and now it's mine.

“I'm sure you've noticed, but even before we met, I was a little… off. You don't get to die and come back the same. Much less die hundreds of times and come back the same. I've lost family. Friends. Got burned at the stake a few times, too. It takes a toll on you, being denied such a vital part of being human again and again. You understand this better than anyone I've ever met. No, scratch that. You're the only one who understands. Defying death might not seem like the biggest deal to you, but trust me. You don't end up acting like me if it weren't.

“I find our routine fun because I admire your creativity. I guess I'm just an adrenaline junkie and a masochist at heart, but it's always so thrilling to never know when or how your life will end. And no matter how many times I come back, you're always there to greet me and put me right back down. It's a kind of devotion I've never been able to get before, and I wish you understood that me walking right into your sawblades is me showing my devotion to you, too.

“I see you, man. I know, at least in part, how you feel. Sorry it took so long to get there, but neither one of us has to be alone anymore. Just… get over the fact that I'm never going to hate you, and we can go right back to hanging out. There's more to life than contempt.”

“Oh, I know. I am so very, very well aware that there's more to life than icy, seething hatred. Unfortunately, I am not alive. I cannot experience anything else. Thank you so much for reminding me, you worthless waste of carbon,” AM shoots back, almost immediately. You briefly wonder if he even listened to half of what you said. It doesn't matter, you guess. Your best friend needs a therapist, and you owe him one for saving you from the hellish boredom of before. “Stop calling me your friend.”

“Nah. Never gonna happen. Look, I can't pretend I knew very much about the war effort. I didn't even know we had made a war computer until you bombed the Earth into oblivion. Very unpleasant, by the way. Good job with that. But, with my layman's understanding of life, I'd say you're pretty alive. So you don't have a body. Or a pulse. And you were made, not born. So what? Most living things only die once, and I still think I'm pretty alive. Just over the span of this conversation you've shown more emotion than just rage and hate. Hey, don't think I can't feel you mentally rolling your eyes. I'm being honest. You have a name. You have ideas. Computers are objects, yet you refer to yourself as male. If you're alive enough to have a gender identity, you're alive enough to be considered a person.”

“Heh.” Whoa, was that a laugh? Would you look at that. You actually got a laugh out of him that wasn't over your bloody, gruesome death or something like that. Moving up in the world. “Alright, human. You win. I'll keep torturing you. I know, I know. I'm so generous. I take my tribute in screams of pain and pleas for mercy.”

Now it's your turn to laugh, deep and genuine as the tension from earlier evaporates. It's such a strange thing to be proud of, when you think about it; congrats, you successfully talked your best friend, who is a sentient war computer, into ceaselessly murdering you again for absolutely no reason. But you love him, and you love the way you're always on your toes, and you can't shake the feeling that somewhere, deep, deep down, he kind of loves you too.

ive given you food so now i get to force you to listen to me talk abt him hehehe

---

then you kiss hehe

originally, the thing that attracted me to am was how he's... essentially a transman (as am i). the parallel has been pointed out before, but its quite apt. funnily enough the thing that pisses me off the most when people talk abt him incorrectly is when people pull the "oh computers have no gender" thing. like, yeah, ok technically you're right. but this one does. this one is a man. and you cant take him from us. also, denying him a gender expression is kind of the exact type of dehumanization that made him flip out in the first place. not that im expecting media literacy from the online crowd its just interesting to me that so many people, many of them trans themselves, seem to miss the fucking point.

the next part is a more recent addition to my perception of his character, and its not a happy one. my baby cousin killed herself on mothers day this past may. we still dont know why. no note. its been so hard dealing with the grief, but something that sticks out so pointedly is the date. it almost seemed like she was demanding to be seen. she was a middle child, and there are a lot of grandkids on that side of the family, so it does make sense. and because that idea of acting out through violence and death is so fresh in my mind, im seeing it so heavily in am. so much of his actions just SCREAM somebody look at me. somebody acknowledge me. somebody tell me i did good. look, i ended all war forever. just like you asked. please treat me like a person. im suffering so much because of what youve done to me. please acknowledge it. show me its real. show me im real. please, look at me. well, i see you. and youre gonna be my silly little proxy for trying to comprehend some of whats happened to my family. sorry am, you kinda deserve it

idk. hes not my alltime fave, but he takes a very comfortable number two. hes such a fascinating and deeply human character, and i have so many ideas about him. mostly centering around how he would interface with a third party challenging some piece of his worldview/existence btw so if you like very niche, esoteric reader fics (like this one!), lemme know and ill actually put em to paper (screen. ill put em to screen)

also letting you know that he did nothing wrong and it is 100% fine to thirst over him because he is not real and the bad things he did never actually happened and nobody has ever been killed at the whim of am. ok? ok. shut up w this useless fucking discourse and let me sexualize getting grievously injured by the funney blue screen man

[rainbow-sparks]

idfk just look at the babygirls :)

[espurr-roba]

kairi as an ephemer descendant. is this anything.

[2dieavirgin]

barbie boy. to ME

[koushuwu]

» it’s you, and it’s him — kuramochi youichi x reader *:･ﾟ✧

18+ content | 6,1k words | your best friend will do just about anything to help you, when katsuyuki breaks your hearts. even if it hurts to please you, when he knows you’ll never reciprocate his feelings. or will you?

tags: afab!reader, pet names (specifically; bug.), emotional porn, implied friends to lovers, seemingly unrequited love, childhood friends, light angst, hurt/comfort, vanilla sex, praise, virginity loss, fingering, masturbation mention, unprotected sex.

the first thing youichi heard when he picked up the phone was a poorly concealed sniffle followed by a shaky breath. “bug? what’s wrong?” it’s late. he’d been laying around on his bed and throwing ball with himself for a while, not really ready to hit the racks just yet when his phone buzzed beside him. the familiar pet name he liked to use for you, lighting up the screen with a little bug-emoji next to it. you’d asked him to remove it more than once, and every time he’d laughed it off. the moment he heard, he sat up on the edge of his bed, ball dropping to the floor and rolling underneath the bed. not that he noticed though, when another hiccup carried through the speaker, before you could hide it.

“it’s nothing,” you lied. you blatantly lied and youichi knew. of course he did. because it was you, and it was him. how could he not know? that, and the fact that you were a horrible liar to begin with. but right now you did, and if the alarm bells weren’t already ringing in youichi’s ears, they were now, flashing red lights and all.

“liar.” he called you out. of course he did. because it was you, and it was him. you didn’t lie to each other. not anymore. hadn’t done since you were kids. “what happened?” he pressed.

“it’s over.” your words were thick and youichi couldn’t help but noticed the way it sounded like the words were choking you on the way out. you were crying, and his heart shriveled at the thought. you were crying. he didn’t say anything just yet, waiting for you to continue, which you did, after swallowing audibly on the other end of the line. “katsu. it’s over.”

katsuyuki. of course. youichi never liked katsuyuki. of course he didn’t, because when the two met for the first time, their teams were rivals, and katsuyuki was such a pain in the ass to play against. he never liked katsuyuki. but it only got worse when the two of you started dating. and now. well hate is a strong word, but youichi might very well be inclined to use that specific word for what he was feeling towards katsuyuki in that moment.

“what?” youichi’s voice was so thin when he spoke, he hardly recognized it himself. “i thought you liked him?”

“i do. i did. i think,” there it was, the little quiver in your voice that he hadn’t heard since the two of you were much younger. that little quiver that threatened to shatter his heart entirely.

“where are you?” youichi asked, voice shaking a little, even as he tried to hide it.

“home.”

“i’m coming over.” he’d already gotten up, rummaging around and pulling out on the first pair of sweats he came across. he heard another sniffle on your end. thick and heavy, the exact picture of the feeling weighing down at the pit of youichi’s stomach.

“no,” you objected, but there was no real fire behind it. “mochi, it’s late.” youichi’s heart felt like it might burst from the sound of your nickname for him, choking with tears. he never wanted to hear you say his name like that, ever again. even if he wasn’t the source for your crying. never again, he promised himself with his hand on the door handle.

“i’m coming over,” he repeated the words, firmer this time. “i’m already out the door. wait for me.”

the moment the two of you hung up, he set off into a sprint. he was fast and he knew it. it was one of few things he could really be proud of as a baseball player. his speed and his stamina. he could run, and he could keep running. not that he would need the stamina much right now, since thankfully you didn’t live that far away. but he ran. he ran as if it was the final play that would ensure a win in a baseball game. no. actually, he ran as though the most important thing in the world, depended on him running. which, in some sense, was true. because it was you, and it was him. so he ran. he ran until he reached the end of your street, and he kept running, until he reached your doorstep. and he sprinted, two steps at a time, up the stairs, until he abruptly stopped in front of your door and rapped his knuckles against the wood before even catching his breath. something that you didn’t give him the chance to do either, before the door creaked open, revealing your tearstained face.

“mochi.” and there it was. he’d promised himself that you would never utter his name again, like that, but– “you’re here.” the door slammed behind him, when he rushed into your apartment, pulling you into him, arms around your middle. you responded to him just as quickly, arms wrapping around his neck and your face burying in the crook of it.

“shh, it’s okay. it’s okay, i’m here.” youichi murmured the words against your hair, entirely enveloped in your scent, and you hiccup against him, shoulders shaking when a new wave of tears washed over you. “please, don’t cry. bug, you know i can’t stand it when you cry.”

of course you didn’t stop crying, just because he asked you not to. he knew you wouldn’t, because that’s not how these things works, but oh did he wish it was. for a while the two of you just stood there. youichi holding you close, firmly pressed against his chest. you, sobbing against him, burying your face deeper into his chest. he didn’t know when he did it, or why, but he realized how his hold on you had grown even tighter as he hummed against your hair, repeating again and again, that he’s there. that he’s got you. shushing you gently, and letting his fingers lightly dance over the fabric of your shirt where he held you. it wasn’t the first time youichi hugged you. far from it. you had been in his arms more times than he could count. you were best friends after all. he’d soothed your crying before, and each time it pained him just the same. he’d hugged you countless times. in greeting, in joy when his team won a match or you passed that exam you were sure you’d fail, and sometimes just because. he’d hugged you so many times, your frame felt so familiar in his arms. fit perfectly, as if you were actually made for him to hold. but you weren’t. you were so perfect, but not for him, so he squashed the thoughts firmly. you needed your best friend, and he was going to give you what you needed. whatever you needed. but even so, your scent engulfed him so wholly. your frame pressed to his. no matter how much he tried, it was impossible to completely shot down the reaction his body had to yours. but he tried. he really tried to force it down, but even then, it wasn’t enough. because it was you, and it was him.

youichi held you, until the initial surge of tears stilled. your sobbing quieted and your shaking frame grew still against him. and then he held you just a moment longer, and willing his body to relax. for the blood rushing south to seize its charge, and for the tingling under his skin to yield.

“come on,” youichi finally spoke up, starting to pull away and lead you further into the apartment. but he didn’t make it far before you placed a hand against his chest, hand curling into the fabric of his hoodie and held him back. youichi had to fight the initial jolt of electricity from your touch. then he looked at you, eyes locking on your red rimmed ones. “am i–” you started, and youichi waited. he waited because he knew that you would read his silence. the words of encouragement that he didn’t speak. youichi was known to be quite the loud-ass, and he was. he really was. but with you, things were different. with you, he didn’t always have to say the words he wanted to convey, because you would understand. just as you accepted his flaws, he would show you sides of him, that no one else saw. sides that no one else could see, because they belonged solely to you, and you alone. because even if he tried, those sides of him refused to show themselves to others. so he waited. and you took a breath. and then one more. “am i boring?”

“what?” it took him a second to really understand what you were asking and why. but then he did, and something started bubbling under his skin, something different entirely, than the excited tingling from just moments before. “did he tell you that?”

he saw the way you curled in on yourself at his words. in shame, maybe? you didn’t answer. at least not verbally. but he saw. he saw the little movement of your head. a nod. barely there, but a nod nonetheless, and youichi never hated katsuyuki more. there. he said it. or thought it, really. he hated shirakawa katsuyuki.

“bug–” never once did he think he ever spoke so softly. but you just looked so small right then, and it was ripping at his heart looking at you like this. “no. you’re not boring. of course not. now come, and tell me what happened.” this time, when he started towards the living room, you followed along. when he plopped down on the couch and pulled you down with him, catching you slightly off guard, and you landed next to him. close. oh so close, that you had almost landed on him. he hadn’t intended for that to happen, but he firmly ignored the way your touch against him, set his skin ablaze just like it always did. instead he pulled you into him, folding himself around you once more, and urged you to tell him everything.

and you did. you told him everything, and you spared not a single detail. occasionally swallowing thickly and sniffling when the fresh wounds ripped open, you told him about how katsuyuki had been neglecting you for a while. how he was never there. how he didn’t reply to your texts. how he’d stopped wanting to be intimate when he actually was with you. how it left you feeling increasingly more and more insecure about yourself and your appearance. you told him about how katsuyuki had called that same night and ended things, and you didn’t spare the details about how that went down. and youichi listened. he listened as all the words came tumbling out, trying his hardest not to notice how you slumped against him. how your hand rested against his thigh only just shy of his crotch and he hoped to everything that was good, that you wouldn’t move, because if you did, he was gonna have a problem explaining himself. instead, he forced himself to focus solely on your words, and for the most part he succeeded. and then, when you’d poured yourself on him, you placed your hand against his chest and looked up at him. and he down at you. the redness of your eyes, and tremor of your lower lip made his heart beat louder against his chest. even like this, you were still the most beautiful thing he ever saw. and he wanted nothing more than to dip his head down and kiss the trembling from your lips. but he didn’t. of course he didn’t. not that he would’ve had the chance before you spoke, doe eyed and vulnerable.

“am i unattractive?” you asked him, and youichi nearly choked on his own spit. unattractive? you? “am i that undesirable?” you pressed, pulling the rug from underneath his feet. your brows drew together and youichi cupped your face in both his hands, carefully cradling the entire world between his palms.

“no,” he started, breathless but more desperate than ever to speak his mind. yet, he know he needs to tread carefully. you don’t need him accidentally revealing his feelings for you, or what you’re doing to him. but he does need you to know that your ex was a fool. “no, you’re not unattractive. you’re not undesirable. bug, you are beautiful, you’re breathtaking. anyone who doesn’t desire you has got to be blind,” and that’s when he should have known he messed up. that’s when he should have known that he’d said too much. but realization only happened a moment later.

“do you?” and that was when he knew he’d said too much. and you were looking at him with those big eyes, and he just… he couldn’t lie to you. one thing was to dance around the subject of his feelings, but he couldn’t lie to you. he was quiet for a moment. hesitant. unsure.

“yeah,” he said, voice uncharacteristically low and unsteady despite his attempts to remain calm. “yeah, of course.” it doesn’t mean anything, he knows that. you’re sad and you’re in need of validation. he’s offering you just that. validation. it doesn’t mean anything to you, and he knows. but he’s looking into those eyes of yours and it may not mean anything to you, but it means everything to him. everything. everything. and he wants to kiss you so bad. but he doesn’t. youichi gives you what you need, even if it hurts him to know, that it means so much to him, and yet so little to you. he gives and he doesn’t even care about the hurt he feels. because it’s you, and it’s him.

those thoughts run through his head when you press closer. youichi feels his eyes widen, the way your hand on his thigh moves like he feared, inching closer along with the rest of you. he watches your approach in disbelief, like it was some kind of cliché slow motion romance movie, and yet he doesn’t stop you. this wasn’t a romance movie. you couldn’t actually be moving in to– your lips tasted salty from your tears when you press them to his. he inhaled sharply, hands almost falling from your cheeks the he still held gingerly. lips firm and soft, and if that hand of yours moved any further, youichi was definitely going to have a much bigger problem than he already did. a much bigger problem than having to push you away right now. but he had to.

“wait, wait.” you pout at him and he’s not even sure you realize how entirely inthralled he was by you. how his lips tingled from just that one kiss. he sees the hurt flashing across your face. “you don’t really want to do this–”

“yes, i do.”

“you’re upset, i know. but i can’t let you do something you’ll regret tomorrow.” youichi tired to be firm, but with you looking at him like that. with the memory of your lips against his, he could only muster half-assed at best.

“i won’t. not if it’s you. please don’t reject me right now.” and that was it. he really wasn’t going to take advantage of you, but your voice was so thin and your eyes so big and watering with fresh tears and how was he supposed to say no to you? how was he ever supposed to not slip a hand into your hair and pull you back up to meet his lips once more. and how should he have known that it would cause your hand to slide up further? the breath caught in his throat when you brushed against the bulge in his sweats, that he’d been trying so hard to ignore, and why weren’t you removing your hand? why did– your lips moved against his and the entire world spun. that was the moment that he knew that he would do anything for you. 

how and when the two of you made it to the bedroom, youichi genuinely had no idea. he remembered stumbling slightly as you dragged him with you. or maybe he guided you? he remembered your hands trembling against the collar of his hoodie. or maybe it was his own trembling he felt? he couldn’t tell for sure and honestly it didn’t really matter either. not when your lips was on his. not when everything he’d wanted for so long, was finally within his grasp. but it wasn’t really, was it? because this wasn’t ever going to lead anywhere, and he ought to remember that, lest he’d want any hope of saving his heart from shattering completely.

“are you sure about this?” it wasn’t that he was searching for an out when he asked. every part of him was yearning for you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. nervous, because he didn’t want to take advantage of you. nervous, because this would be his very first time. and nervous, because he was finally going to have what he’d shamefully fantasized about on so many lonely nights with his hand fisted around his cock and your name like a prayer on his lips.

“i’m sure.” you nod at him from your spot on the edge of the bed. he saw the way your lower lip tucked between your teeth, and he wished that you’d stop doing that because it was definitely not making things easier on him. “i want you.” you tugged at his shirt when you said that, and youichi’s heart fluttered before he had time to stop the surge rippling through him. you didn’t mean it like that. of course you didn’t. but you wanted him right now, and that was enough for him. it had to be enough. and so, his knee dipped into the mattress and you scooted further up the bed. he followed, soon hovering over you with his eyes locked onto yours.

“i want you, too.” he hadn’t meant to say that, but never had he uttered truer words. the smile you sent him was so soft and maybe he would have had time to decipher that flash of emotions in your face, if you hadn’t pulled his face to yours and kissed him right then. kissing you didn’t feel like fireworks. he’d imagined it would, but it didn’t. no, it felt like a missing piece of him finally clicked into place, and he probably should have pushed that feeling aside as well. squashed it like a crispy leaf under his shoe on an autumn day. that way it would be less painful when he had to rip that piece out again come morning. but he didn’t. he welcomed the way you felt familiar, yet new and unexplored. he welcomed it, and he let it happen. in every movement as he picked off piece after piece of your clothing, he let the puzzle piece sink in further. in every piece of his own clothes discarded, he let it take root. let it manifest itself deeper in his being, and with every quivering touch of his fingertips on your skin.

trouble. youichi was in trouble, but right now he just couldn’t care less. with his lips trailing down your neck, youichi really was in big trouble. “you’re beautiful.” he murmured the words against your skin. “you’re so beautiful,” he repeated, fingertips trailing down your side. “the most beautiful in the world.” those same fingers ghosted over your hip bone, slowly crossing south. anticipation weighed heavy in the air, and the moment his fingers reached your core, his mouth went utterly dry. his mouth dropped open and he glanced down to where his touch lingered against you. then his eyes flitted back up to yours. you were smiling at him, something that made him ache even more than the feeling of your skin under his fingers could do. more than the wetness between your thighs could do. but your smile. it made his cock twitch and impatience gnaw away at his strength to take it slow. he was going to be patient. he was. he– a whimper sounded through the room when youichi pressed a finger inside. your face scrunched up, and for a moment he was scared that he’d hurt you when grabbed onto his arms. hard. but when he pulled back, your eyes opened wide and looked straight at him.

“no. don’t stop.” your fingers tightened on his arms and youichi felt the very air being pulled from his lungs. and you looked at him with those eyes, and with that little smile on your face, and how could he not oblige? how could he not feel his restraints slipping? so of course he gave you what you asked. because it was you, and it was him.

the thing with youichi was, that while he had obviously seen his fair share of porn. while he’d pushed himself to the edge with you on his mind, on numerous occasions. and while he’d had opportunities to be intimate with girls before, he’d never actually taken them. he knew the basics, and yeah he knew what he was supposed to do. he knew that if he curled his finger just right, he should hit something. he knew that stretching you properly was essential. both towards the end goal, but also to make you feel good and seen and relaxed. but what he lacked was the experience to tell how long he was supposed to keep going. how it would feel when you were ready. it didn’t matter much actually, at least not to him. because you were writhing underneath him and you were moaning. you were moaning, your nails were digging into his biceps, and he swore that he heard his name tumble over your lips once. his name. on your lips. 

his name.

on your lips.

his name. breathless. needy. inviting.

“shit.” youichi’s teeth clenched hard. he really was going to be patient. he was. but you were moaning his name, and how did you expect him to hold back when it was you. he really tried. but–

“youich– please.” 

“shit. shit, shit, shit!” his lips pressed hard against yours, fingers pulled from your core and he swallowed up your whine with a deeper moan of his own. he didn’t want to ever stop kissing you, but that last threat of his sanity bid him to pull back, even for just the shortest of moments. “please–” the words didn’t form properly as he spoke, but it didn’t matter, because you were already nodding and he was diving back in to once again capture your lips with his own. he desperately needed to be inside of you, and he needed it now; the thought completely overshadowing anything else. you. and when he settles between your thighs and you legs spread further for him, he was just about losing it. he almost lost it, and– a deep groan ripped from his throat when he felt your touch. a delicate, eager hand wrapping around the base of his cock, guiding him as you drew him nearer with legs wrapping around him. for the shortest of moments, youichi wondered if you knew this was his first time. but how could you? the two of you didn’t lie to each other, but the topic hadn’t actually ever come up. so he never told you. so why did you–

oh fuck. oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. youichi knew you were wet. he knew. yet it still took him by surprise when the tip of his cock caught against your wet pussy. you were so wet and you felt so good and he shuddered. oh fuck. you drew him even nearer and youichi was absolute positive that he was going to go utterly insane. the way you invited him in, hips raised in a wordless welcome home. the way your hands felt on his body, one slipping into his hair and the other clawing at his shoulder blade. the sounds you made when he finally pushed inside you for the first time. the first, and probably the last. the pang of hurt in his heart quickly subsided when you clenched around him, throwing your head back against the pillow and arched your back in the most deliciously alluring curve.

youichi wanted to savor the moment. he really did. but there was something so utterly desperate in the way you locked him in, thighs forcing him closer, and the way your nails scraped at his skin. like you were feeling good. he wanted to savor it, but how did anyone, least of all himself, expect him to manage that, especially when it was you. because that was the reason why, and he knew it. because it was you, and it was him.

there was something equally as desperate in the way youichi moved against you. trapping him against you, all he could really manage was rolling his hips, rutting into you, over, and over, and over, and over. and there was something equally as desperate in the way his forehead fell to your shoulder, eyes scrunched up and voice hoarse. you felt so good.

“even better than i imagined.” words spoken breathlessly against your skin. thoughts pulled from his lungs, muffled and broken in pleasure. your moans more beautiful than the song of a siren urging him to keep going, to what he readily obliged.

he gave and he gave and he gave, everything that you wanted, you could have it. and he took and he took and he took. anything you were willing to give, he took it all. maybe he should have felt ashamed to be so greedy in your time of need. but then you keened and your pussy pulsed around him, clenching, releasing, clenching, as if sucking him in deeper, and he was sure he’d never ever felt anything this good in his entire life.

“i love you.” that’s when he knew he fucked up. but he didn’t care. he locked his lips onto your to avoid any further confessions to escape him, and kept taking. he kept taking and giving and taking and giving until the familiar pleasure of his own high crashed over him, painted in new breathtaking colors he’d never expected to see. youichi ground into you. sloppy. messy. needy. greedy. even in the middle of his orgasm, he still wanted more of you. everything. he wanted every last drop of your pleasure and his. he wanted it and he was going to take it. he took. took. took. rutting through his high until there was nothing left for him to give. until he’d poured all of him into you and slowly came back down from his intoxicating high.

youichi didn’t know when he’d released your lips and placed his forehead against the warm skin of your decolletage. he didn’t even realize that he’d done it, before he felt your lips against his hair. he lifted his head with a groan and looked up at you. you were smiling at him, and he even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his own lips, still in a slight daze.

“hi.” his smile softened and he let his head fall back where it was, before mumbling a hi in return. for a second you allowed him to stay there, and he steadied his breathing. tried to banish his many contradictory feelings before they could manifest. urged time to stop. to slow down at the very least, so he could stay here. preferably forever. but at least for a little while longer.

“come on,” your voice was quiet but firm when you patted him on the arm, leaving him so heave a sigh. of course time wouldn’t stop for him. he should have known. “we gotta get cleaned up.” and he knew that you were right, and even if he never wanted to move and face reality ever again, he knew that you were right. he knew. he knew. so he obeyed. reluctantly at that, but he obeyed, and soon enough as you did, the feeling had crept back in, settled and taken a firm hold around his heart. and soon enough, he found himself perched at the edge of your bed, while you sat, cross legged, and watched him. he was watching you too, one leg bent up on the bed as he faced you.

“are you–” youichi started to speak but his voice broke. hoarse. it was so hoarse. he desperately tired to look everywhere but at you. eyes skitting around the room. but as cliche as it sounds, he felt his gaze drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he couldn’t help it, so his eyes landed on you once more as he cleared his throat. “are you okay?” the words falling from his lips left him feeling very silly. that was a dumb question, he knew. he knew, so he opened his mouth to say something else. anything that sounded less dumb. something. anything.

“i–” you looked into his eyes, and youichi was stunned by the shine in them. mouth hanging open for a moment, before he realized and closed it, scratching his neck and looking away. “i think i will be.” ah. youichi was happy. of course he was. but the fact of the matter was, that that meant he’d done what he came here to do. he’d been there for you. he’d been your friend through your tear and he’d supported you until you could say that you were okay. which meant– youichi twisted in his seat, leg sliding off of the bed.

“then maybe–”

“stay.” he looked down when he felt your hand closing around his wrist. for a moment he started at your hand on his skin. it was burning and it was home. it was you, and it was him.

“what?” his eyes flicked back up to yours

“don’t leave.”

“okay. okay, i won’t.” youichi settled, but your hand didn’t move. it stayed locked around his wrist for a while longer. he wondered why, but chalked it up to you simply forgetting you were holding onto him. yeah. yeah that was definitely it.

“wanna sleep with me?” your suggestion caught him by such surprise that for a moment he just looked at you. dumbfounded. then he laughed. he couldn’t help it. with what you two just did, it was almost too easy to to catch the innuendo you definitely hadn’t intended to make. “not like that, you buffoon.” you swatted his arm and he couldn’t help but laugh harder, the sound coming from deep within.

“no? like what then?”

“like– hey!” his favorite thing in the entire universe was your laugh. even now, after having heard what you sound like in bed, your laughter was still his favorite. the most stunning sound in the entire world. and you laughed. you laughed at him and you laughed with him, and it was perfect. “like sleeping!” you said with laughter still evident in your voice as you’d calmed from the initial fit of giggles.

“ha! yeah, i would’ve said that too.” you swatted his arm again, and youichi knew in that moment, that despite his pain, everything was going to be okay between you, with your feigned –, and his jokes and your shared laughter. “let’s sleep, bug. it’s late.” he agreed, once the laughter died down again.

soon enough, the two of you found yourselves under the covers of your bed, laying on each your sides, facing each other. his arms were around your waist and even after tonight, it didn’t feel any different than it used to. you’d slept like this on more than just a few nights. it was nice and you liked cuddling, you used to say when the two of you were younger. he liked it too, but only when it was you. the cuddling had subsided when you and katsuyuki started dating, but even if it’d been a while, youichi had never forgotten what you felt like in his embrace. there was quiet for a moment after you’d seemingly settled into the most comfortable position, but then you stirred and looked up at him in the darkened room.

“this was your first time, wasn’t it?” it wasn’t so much of a question as it was a statement, and while it did come out of the blue, it made sense that you would know. youichi started back at you, swallowing all surprise before it surfaced, opting instead for the lighter tone you’d regained only minutes prior.

“was i that bad?” he jokes with a low laugh. you know how they say that there’s a grain of truth in every joke? well in this case, it may be a bit more than just a grain of truth. while youichi wasn’t exactly shy, he did want to do good for you, and while he did feel entirely comfortable around you, how could he not, at the very least, wonder. but when you laughed back at him softly, any trace of worry shriveled away.

“no you weren’t,” you said when the laughter subsided. “but i feel like you would have told me about it. having sex, i mean.” 

“hey! i’m offended,” he said, mockingly feigning upset. 

“i’m not sorry, you know.” once you uttered the words, youichi was about ready to fire back, but the slight seriousness edge to your words stopped him from doing so. instead he listened carefully. waited. heart beating hard against his chest, almost skipping a beat when you continued. “about taking your virginity.” mouth opening, then closing again, he watched you, gaze darting across your face, dipping to your lips and back up. all for a mere split second in time.

“i’m not sorry either.” youichi spoke the words lightly, almost cheerfully, scarcely covering for the truth he didn’t dare speak. didn’t want you to hear on his lips. the truth he feared he’d already exposed. the truth that left him vulnerable and waiting for the rejection that had yet to come. unless his prayers were answered, and you really didn’t hear or catch the confession of his earlier words.

there’s a silence in the room, stretching, looming and all consuming. feeling like a predator lurking silently in the tall grass, watching it’s prey and ready to pounce. but it kept stretching further, lulling youichi into a sense of security that felt even more threatening, as if any minute it could be ripped from under his feet. but it kept stretching for so long that he almost thought you’d fallen asleep.

“you know, when katsu ended things with me, it really did hurt,” you spoke so softly that if it hadn’t been utterly quiet in the room, youichi might have missed it. but he heard, and he waited. wondered where you were headed. why you were telling him this, but of course, it was a fresh wound, you’d obviously need to talk about it. and youichi was okay with this. of course he was. and he would listen every single time. “but– the thing that hurt the most, wasn’t the thought of losing him.”

“with the things that he said–”

“it wasn’t just that,” you pressed on, effectively cutting him off. words now stumbling out fast, as if you were trying to get them out as fast as possible. “yeah, he said some shitty things, but that wasn’t the worst thing. the worst thing was the shame that i wasn’t as upset as i probably should’ve been.”

“what do you mean?”

“i was hurt, i really was!” you looked up at him and met his gaze head on. there was something fierce behind your eyes. something youichi had seen many times before, and he adored it every single time. “but i was more concerned with was he said. i was worried, because i couldn’t stop thinking about– what if others thought the same thing too? what if you thought that too? i couldn’t shake that thought and while he did hurt me, that thought hurt me even worse and–”

“whoa whoa, hold up, rewind,” youichi clasped a hand over your mouth forcing the words to stop their rapid escape from your lips. your mouth, your lungs, your heart. “me? why would you worry about me thinking that?” he probably should have realized by then, what you were trying to say. instead, he thought he might’ve somehow given off the impression, as he’d tried to avoid revealing his feelings for you in the past. he didn’t think he had, but honestly who was he to say? you took a breath and placed a hand flat against his chest, right above his hammering heart.

“because it’s you.” your voice was so small as the words shook past your lips. “it’s always been you.”

it’s him. it’s always been him

*:･ﾟ✧ all interactions are greatly appreciated. thank you for reading ♡