there’s this rush and this pressure, sometimes, for huge, mind-blowing numbers on ao3. thousands of kudos and comments and ppl obsessing over ratios, but like - there’s something so incredibly wonderful about, idk, even ten kudos. ten? you mean ten people, TEN total strangers, found something I wrote and clicked on it and read it and liked it? ten comments: you mean ten people took the time to tell me what they thought about my work, took the time and energy to write about MY WORK in their little comment bubble? ten people?? fifty?? one hundred???
but even just one - if one single person took the time out of their day to tell me how much they appreciate the little bit of my soul I just put out into the world - idk, it just means everything, doesn’t it?
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Grown Apart AU - Musical Style ✨
What is This Feeling from Wicked pretty perfectly encapsulates GA Donnie and Leo's first impressions of each other, so the musical nerd within me couldn't resist doing this (lol).
Context within the plot: After saving Mikey's life (by total coincidence), Donnie manages to infiltrate the Hamato residence as a spy, planning to capture the oozesquitos and hand them over to Big Mama, thus gaining her favor. Leo, however, sees through his act easily and has been keeping an eye on him since he arrived.
Due to circumstances outside of their control - i.e. Splinter's decision - the two of them are forced to share a room with each other, which neither party is particularly thrilled about.
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I just found out that, apparently, Grown Apart has made into the @tmntaucompetition preliminaries!!!! ASDFGHJKJH;!!
Thank you to anyone who sent in a nomination! I guess we can officially call this "propaganda" now, so look forward to seeing much more in the very near future!
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The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”
Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”
The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner.
“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”
“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”
Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?
He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?”
“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”
“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt.
He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”
“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”
“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip.
“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”
Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”
“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”
“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”
“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”
“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.”
“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel.
There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—
“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”
“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know.
He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.
(ETA: small continuation here!)
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Dad told me he had an extra special dessert for me tonight. Just come see him at night when Mom’s gone to bed and I can have it. After I hear the door to their room close, I know she’s in bed, and I sneak downstairs. I am so excited to see Dad waiting for me!
“I made us some Daddy-daughter brownies,” he says gently, “just for us to share tonight while we watch your favourite movie, sweetie.”
I thank him and take the biggest looking piece off the plate as we settle onto the couch and turn the tv on. After 30 minutes sitting together watching the movie, i start feeling kind of strange.
“Dad, my body feels weird and I can’t focus on the movie anymore,” I whine.
He tells me not to worry and how much he’s enjoying our movie night together. He brings the plate over and offers,
“Have another brownie, kiddo. That should help you feel better.”
While eating more, I vaguely notice Dad’s hand caressing my leg under the blanket. He probably just likes spending time with his daughter..nothing to worry about.
As the movie continues, he gently runs his fingers up my inner thigh, getting closer and closer to my pussy.
Now anxious and having a hard time gathering my thoughts, I ask him, “Dad, what are you doing?”
“Shhh sweetheart, I just want you to feel good,” he replies softly as his hand finds the top of my pjs and slips under the waistband.
His fingers reach my clit and he starts delicately playing with it under his fingertips. I don’t know what to do other than sit there and let his hands touch my body. Soon he grabs my hand and leads it under the blanket, reaching towards his legs. I feel his hard bulge under his pants as he uses my hand to rub himself.
“You’re such a good girl for me,” he praises while putting my hand inside his pants. “Show me how much you love me, sweetheart, rub Daddy’s cock for him.”
Frozen in place and feeling warm and fuzzy in my head from his fingers continuous stimulation, I wrap my delicate hand around his thick cock and start moving up and down. As soon as my hand starts in motion, his fingers move further into my pjs and find the entrance of my pussy. He feels how wet he’s made me and laughs softly.
“Is Dad making your little cunt feel nice?” He asks.
I barely know what’s happening anymore more. I’m just focused on doing what Dad says and getting through our movie night. My nod indicating a yes makes him smile.
“I’m not going to be able to sit still very long, kiddo. Don’t you feel how happy you’re making me?”
He pulls my hand away from him and gets up from the couch. He’s got a more serious look on his face as he says,
“This might not make your cunt feel as nice, sweetie, but I really can’t help myself right now. Lay back on the couch for me and just relax, okay?”
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