a-bisexual-dumbass - Tumblr blog

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

So for over a month and a half I’ve been told in my Creative writing MA class that my writing is too poetic and abstract to work in the form of a novel and that I need to simplify my meanings and sentences. I did as I was told and lost all interest in writing if I have to write in the same style that every other novelist does. Today I received this note from a classmate and didn’t realise how much I needed to hear it. Don’t change your art just because other people don’t get it. Don’t change your style to fit in with everyone else. It’s your story not theirs.

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Opinions, all?

But, ah, it was for naught. The issue with his door. It was broken recently. And his half-finished code, sitting on his laptop, was taunting him, the cursor flashing like a sneer. Was a few seconds of false hope worth the crush that of course no-one heard him?

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Hey y'all!! I've been "out for milk" for a bit, but, yk, I'm doin' a lil better. Sorry for disappearing 😅

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Hey y'all!! I've been "out for milk" for a bit, but, yk, I'm doin' a lil better. Sorry for disappearing 😅

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

how to trick writers into giving you more fanfic to read

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

how to trick writers into giving you more fanfic to read

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Hi,

It’s your friendly neighbor fanfic author here. In the light of this apparent new trend of people feeding unfinished fics to AI to get an “ending,” and some people even talking about “blanket permissions,” let me just say this:

I EXPLICITLY FORBID ANYONE TO FEED MY FICS TO AI. DUDE, THAT IS ABOUT THE LEAST RESPECTFUL THING YOU CAN DO. IF YOU DO IT, SHALL YOU BE EXCOMMUNICATED FROM YOUR FANDOM AND WALK ON LEGOS BAREFOOT TILL THE END OF DAYS.

That is my anti-permission.

Thank you for your attention.

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

"But you already wrote that trope."

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

i love these two characters. i need to trap them in a collapsed building so they can talk about their feelings as one of them slowly bleeds out.

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Me?

someone: hey I noticed this thing you did in your writing!

me, kicking my feet up flirtatiously: oh??? do you want to hear my thoughts on why I did that? do you want a play-by-play of the language choices in every related sentence? do you want an exhaustive breakdown of The Themes???

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

love when fanfic writers are like “I love this character” & proceed to put them through shit even God has blacklisted, baby the middle ages called they want to hear your ideas

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Sorry Y'all!

I might not be able to post the next chapter tomorrow- I'm doing my best, but my best is not good enough right now. I'm quite unwell, but I've been trying to keep stuff up... I'm vastly underperforming, I'm aware

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

and I oop-

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Sneak Peak, as per usual

[a-bisexual-dumbass]

Perfection

Read it on Ao3 here!

SUMMARY: 

Prompt “You’re gonna pretend like you have no idea how I’ve felt about you, since the first day we met?”

You have a massive crush on Donnie.

And he likes you back!

NOTES:

My first foray into writing with a Y/N

Generally SFW, needed something to relax with

It does go outside of my general HCs, but- it's for the story, yk??

1160 words, was a fun write!

April took you to meet her brothers, one day. Told you not to freak out, not to get scared.

Fear definitely wasn’t what you were feeling.

Your eyes were drawn to a certain purple-clad turtle who seemed not to notice that you were there.

Damn.

“Hm? Oh. Salutation!” he bowed dramatically, “I’m Hamato Donatello, AKA Donnie, Bootyyyshaker9000, or Othello Von Ryan. And you are..?”

You reddened slightly, “…[Y/N]”

~~~

Donnie didn’t get crushes.

He hadn’t since Leo made fun of him for liking Atomic Lass- at least nothing serious.

But… [Y/N]…

Goddamn, you were just… perfect. You were impossible.

You could never like him back, though.

He was so fucking emotionally ignorant. A useless piece of shit. A depressive asshole who could only provide tech to the team.

And you were just so much better than him. Absolutely superb. Entirely beyond compare. A piece of art, truly, no matter what you did.

“DON! Head in the game, por favor, we need your- your- your weird math-y stuff!” Leo snapped in his face, “Thinkin’ ‘bout someone? ¿Estás enamorado?”

You laughed in that way, the way that made his heart stutter, “Ts- maybe it’s moi?”

A look passed over your face that made Donatello think that… maybe you weren’t joking?

No. Just wishful thinking. You could never love him. Never.

Donnie blushed a deep green, and coughed into his hand, “Ehem. What do you require of me..?”

~~~

Donatello wouldn’t have admitted that he was in love. And actively stalking you. But- you caught him.

“I was just getting groceries, [Y/N]! De-hehefinitely not following you nailed it!” Donnie rubbed his arm, awkwardly, flushing as he stared at you.

Goddamn. You looked good in that.

You brush his stare off, though. He couldn’t love you. You’re just a writer. Just an artist, an emotionally vulnerable crybaby against his logic and reason. He couldn’t.

“…riiight. Well, I am too. Wanna walk with me?”

The two of you walked and laughed and talked about your favourite Jupiter Jim theories, and Donnie helped you unpack your groceries. Afterwards, you went back to the lair with him to watch him play with wires with artful, graceful hands while he info-dumped about things you couldn’t even hope to understand. You often found yourself lost in his heterochromatic blue-and-red eyes.

You really couldn’t help it.

He was just too… perfect…

~~~

Donatello noticed that you were wearing more purple, wearing revealing clothing around him, staring at him…

He noticed, took note in the back of his mind, and promptly ignored. He was reading too deep. It didn’t mean anything. You were just his friend, and he’d have to accept that.

Didn’t mean it didn’t get him all hot and bothered, though.

Fuck, man.

You invited him out to eat pizza together at Run-of-the-Mill one day.

It… it couldn’t be a date, right?

But he’d dress up nice anyways. You had said mint was your favourite colour, right?

He wore a soft green button-down and black dress pants. He made sure that his eyebrows were extra perfect. He painted his nails. He wanted to look his best for you, even if his love would say unrequited.

And you dressed in deep, royal purples, hair brushed back, simple, elegant, you looked perfect.

Hueso asked if the two of you were on a date.

Donnie watched you, watched you laugh.

He smiled as he drank lightly and you flirted and he flirted back, playing it as a joke, but truly meaning it.

“You look… wonderful, [Y/N],”

“Et tu, Donatello,”

~~~

You would admit that you had been dressing for Donnie’s eyes and his alone. You were in love, and you had to finally admit it.

You painted Donatello, you sketched him, you almost started following him around. He was your muse. He’s just so perfect.

You could stay friends if you must.

But fuck, you were in love!

But as the months went by, you just fell into a pattern.

Friends, best friends, maybe even the love of your life, and you built up the confidence to just tell him, but you just… couldn’t. As you flirted, he laughed and joked and you just couldn’t tell.

Did he like you back?

Fuck, man, it’s so hard to tell. You could usually read him like a book (albeit a somewhat confusing one), but… are you… more than friends? Or does he only see you platonically?

~~~

The two of you had gotten into an argument.

And that was when your heart had decided it was enough.

Neither of you remembered what it was about. Maybe the tension had finally built up enough to tip the bucket.

You were both crying, yelling, wildly gesturing, and upset.

“Are you kidding me, [Y/N]? I-”

“Are you gonna pretend like you’ve had no fucking idea how I’ve felt about you, since the first day we met?” you sobbed, throwing yourself onto him, “Well, fuck it. I’m in love with you, Donnie! I’ve been trying to tell you! Given you signs! I’ve tried everything!”

The softshell stared, shocked, so you kept going.

“Gods, Don- I asked you on a date- we flirted- I- you just laughed me off,” you were melting underneath him, “-I’m sorry that I thought I had a chance with someone as fucking perfect as you are. I’m sorry, I’m so-rry, I-I’m fucking sorry. I thought we were something, but I should-”

He cut you off by cupping your face gently in his hands.

“Can I kiss you?”

It was your turn to stare, now.

It only took a second, though.

You threw yourself at him, intertwining your fingers, wrapping around his legs tightly, your tongues pushing together.

He pinned you to the wall, pulling away from your mouth.

You stared up at him, any anger forgotten in less than a second, “Are- are we doing this?”

Oh gods Donnie was hot like that, breathing heavily, slightly sweaty, looking down at you. You drape your arms around his neck, silently praying that he would say yes.

“Do you want this?” he worried at his lip, almost unpinning you.

“Yes,”

~~~

Donnie woke up to you spooning him.

He curled in on himself and began scrolling on his phone, waiting for you to wake up.

He listened to your steady breathing, tried to memorise the pattern of your heartbeat, thinking about how damn perfect you are, were, wil always be. Perfection couldn’t be impossible. He was looking at them, wrapped in them, surrounded by them.

You had tightened your grip on him as you woke up. He only squirmed a little in your arms, flipping over to look at you.

“Goodmorning, love…” you whispered, stretching and looking at his body, marked with small hickeys, artfully placed.

He looked beautiful.

He kissed you and tried to roll out of bed, but your quiet noise of complaint stopped him.

“Mmm… I need to make coffee…” he purred, cuddling closer, “We’ve things to do… probably…”

You huffed.

“…fine…”