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bro-atz · 8 months

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that sumin fic was crazy af i’m obsessed w your writing… could we possibly get a university au w music composition major minjae x f!reader?? and w some smut in there too pls thinking a lot abt rapper minjae being good w his tongue akdjjsjsjsj

the theory of music

in which: there's a rumor about minjae that you want to find out more about.

pair: uni student!minjae/uni student!afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: college!au, smut, heavy sexual tension, oral sex, completely consensual!

author's note: you wanna know what's crazy anon? i know someone like this irl HAHAH nd he's truly one of my favorite people (if i ignore the fact that he had a threesome in my living room once but that a story for a diff day) but yes this is something i can def do and just did for you (^з^)-♡♥︎♡ seriously tho im glad you requested this bc i wanted to make a lil series for xikers so this was perf

tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols apply for the permanent taglist here! university!series: sumin, minjae, junmin, hyunwoo, jinsik

You weren’t one for parties, especially rooftop parties. You only went to this specific rooftop party because it was your friend’s roommate’s birthday, and she promised you that it was going to be lowkey and fun when it was anything but. Yet, you had a good time— when the company is good, why wouldn’t everything else be good? Some kids were still yakking off the roof while others were getting completely stoned or crossed, but the ones that were still somewhat coherent were cool. There was one person in particular that you were drawn to the most, not because you were attracted to him (although he was very attractive, you’ll give him that), but because the air around him was so calming and he seemed to vibe with literally everyone.

“Him? That’s Minjae,” Junmin, one of the boys you were talking to at the party, told you when you asked. “How do you not know Minjae?”

“I mean… It’s my first time seeing him—”

“Still, he’s infamous at these parties.”

“This is my first time at one of these rooftop parties. Cut me some slack, Junmin.”

“Well, I’d just warn you and say don’t get too close,” Junmin brought his voice down and said ominously.

“Why do you say that?” you matched his decibel, clearly not taking him seriously.

“He’s… A character. Kind of loose. I mean, you see how many girls go swarming to him. It happens all the time, and it happens for a reason”

“Dude, I’m not looking to fuck him. I just want to befriend the guy, is all.”

“That’s what they all say,” Junmin sighed loudly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Heard loud and clear.”

You wanted to defy Junmin, but he was just so sinister with informing you about Minjae that you dropped the idea of befriending the guy in general. You spent the rest of the party interacting with other people, completely unaware that Minjae’s gaze kept flickering to you every so often.

You saw Minjae again at Junmin’s rooftop party, but you paid no mind to him. This time, you steered clear of him because he was surrounded by a bunch of girls— girls that definitely were not at the party you were at the other night. You knew after what Junmin said that Minjae was a popular guy, but it didn’t fully register in your head until that moment. Maybe it was his soft, brown hair that spilled over his face and gave his eyes a mysterious charm that made the girls fall for him, or maybe it was his irresistible smile and laugh. Whatever it was, there was just something about him that drew girls to him like a moth to a flame.

You kept to yourself for the most part during Junmin’s party. Junmin was running around the rooftop trying to make sure his friends didn’t fall over the balcony or throw up anywhere that wasn’t a toilet— honestly, seeing him scramble all over the place did not make you jealous in the slightest. If anything, it was entertaining to see him break a sweat and make sure the party didn’t completely fall apart.

While you were observing Junmin, you didn’t realize that Minjae actually approached you and stood right next to you with every intention to flirt with the one girl at the party that wasn’t all over him.

“Hey,” you heard him speak into your ear, startling you completely.

“What the— Oh?” you were fully prepared to fight whoever it was that scared you, but when you saw Minjae’s beautiful face super close to yours, you short-circuited. “H-hello…”

He held his hand out for you to shake.

“Minjae.”

You nearly said “I know” in response, but you choked back that first instinct. You shook his hand.

“Y/N.”

There was a beat of silence. Honestly, you didn’t know what to say to him because Junmin truly scared the shit out of you, so the only questions on your mind was just to inquire about his reputation.

“You know, I saw you at the last party and wondered who you were because I’ve never seen you at any of these parties,” Minjae said, trying to continue the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m not really a party person,” you admitted.

“But you’re here at this one?”

“Because Junmin invited me.”

“What about the last one?”

“My friend invited me since it was her roommate’s birthday.”

“Oh, okay that makes sense.”

Minjae nodded and smiled at you, making you feel slightly guilty that your impression of him was so tarnished thanks to your own assumptions. He ended up getting more words out of you and got you comfortable enough to have very candid conversations about everything. He had a very complex view on the world that you resonated with, and it made you want to know more about him. There was definitely a deeper side of him that he was hiding, and you wanted to find it.

You were so engrossed in your conversation with him that you didn’t realize how much time had passed and that most of the party had cleared out until Junmin approached you and Minjae, his hair and clothes completely disheveled.

“I appreciate you both so much, but I’m going to have to ask you both to go the fuck home,” Junmin said with a heavy sigh.

You checked your phone and saw many, many missed calls from your roommate, and you also saw that it was four in the morning.

“Damn, it’s already this late? Sorry, Junmin,” you apologized.

“We’ll leave now,” Minjae added.

We? You looked at Minjae with slight confusion.

“Thanks. Get home safe— And, Y/N, text me when you get home,” Junmin instructed.

“Ow, you don’t want to know if I got home?” Minjae asked feigning hurt.

“You’ll be fine,” Junmin rolled his eyes and pushed Minjae away. “Get out.”

You and Minjae left Junmin’s apartment building, and before you could bid adieu and head home, Minjae asked, “What direction are you headed in?”

“There,” you pointed.

“I’ll walk you home,” Minjae stated.

You eyed Minjae suspiciously, wondering if he had any other intentions by walking you home. Deciphering your look, he held his hands up and said, “No, I just want to make sure you get home safe, too. It’s four in the morning, and you are a woman after all.”

You were still not convinced of his intentions. It was only when he held out his pinky and looked at you with the most sincerest of eyes did you cave and let him walk you home.

During your walk, you both continued to have a deep discussion about the world to the point where you didn’t even realize that you had already gotten back to your dorm. Before you went inside, Minjae stopped you.

“Wait, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“If I invited you to one of my parties, would you come?”

You briefly pondered the thought before nodding. He grinned at you then held out his phone. “I’ll text you the next time I throw one,” he said.

You gave him your number, and with that, you both parted ways.

You seriously wondered why Junmin told you to avoid Minjae in the first place. He didn’t seem so bad.

You and Minjae became friends since the night you exchanged numbers. Not once did you feel like Minjae was trying to get into your pants or anything—especially because he mostly texted you— making you doubt Junmin’s explanation of the guy more and more. When you asked Junmin, he refused to elaborate on it further, so you had to settle for a shrug and acceptance that Junmin was probably just really wrong about Minjae.

you:

what’re you doing rn?”

You ended up texting Minjae right in the middle of class one fine day. You shouldn’t have been on your phone, but the class was such a drag that you desperately needed the distraction.

minjae:

studio why

you:

ah okay nah i was just bored is all

minjae:

you can come to the studio if you want

you:

yeah? you sure?

And immediately, Minjae sent you an address along with a room number— it was one of the buildings on campus, but you had no idea which one it was until you got there. It was the music building on campus, also known as a building you’ve never entered on campus and never thought you would enter because you were not in the music composition major. You were nervous as hell the entire time you were making your way to the studio that Minjae was in until you saw him down the hall, half his body out the door as he looked and waited for you.

You had never seen any sort of music studio before, and were honestly quite surprised to see that your school had such a professional one— well, multiple professional ones since the entire hall you walked down was filled with studios— readily available on campus. It was completely soundproof inside, and it was also dark as hell in there. There were no windows or anything. Just a room, a chair, a computer, a monitor, a bunch of keyboards, and an audio mixer.

“I thought this was a recording studio?” you questioned.

“This is the mixing studio. So if we don’t have to record vocals or instruments and just need digital, we can use this room,” Minjae explained.

“Oh…”

“Want to listen?”

“Sure.”

Minjae let you have a seat in the singular chair in the room and gave you the headphones. As soon as you were comfortable, he played the song for you. It was upbeat, but also melancholic in a way. You found yourself nodding along to the beat of the song the more you listened, and when the song ended, you were amazed but also confused because that was super short.

“This is really good,” you told the boy as you handed the headphones back.

“Yeah, but it’s still not done. I only played you the intro into the first chorus since that’s all I got right now,” he said with a tiny sigh.

“Still, what you have so far is so good. I can’t wait to hear the whole song now.”

With a small smile, Minjae reclaimed his seat, leaving you standing. You looked around, trying to find a place to sit, but the only place to sit was the singular chair in the room that Minjae was using.

“I’ll head out then, leave you to it,” you told the boy as you reached for the door handle.

“Honestly, you can stay if you’d like,” Minjae said without tearing his eyes away from the screen.

“Won’t it be weird if I’m just sitting on the ground in the corner?”

“What? You can sit in the chair with me.”

You eyed the chair, then looked at Minjae skeptically. “You really think that we’ll both fit in the chair?”

“Yeah, the arms come up. See,” Minjae said as he proceeded to demonstrate— and they did.

You somehow found yourself sitting on one edge of the chair while Minjae sat on the other. You though he would be uncomfortable working like that, but he seemed perfectly fine and completely focused on his work. You tried to keep your eyes on the screen, but for some reason, your eyes kept straying towards the boy.

Minjae was very attractive usually, but he was absolutely breathtaking from the side. His chin was tilted upwards since the monitor was on an elevated desk, so you got the best view of his jawline. He unconsciously licked his lower lip as he clicked on the screen, and he bit his lower lip while he focus, the mere acts send flashes of heat through your body.

He usually looked like a very soft, very cuddly boy, but this version of Minjae you got to see was incredibly sexy— unbelievably and unbearably sexy. He was so immersed in his work that he just oozed charisma, and the way his arms would subtly flex when he moved the mouse around or clicked or typed made you pay more attention to the way he was built— so much attention that you started wondering what he looked like underneath since his arms were pretty muscular.

It was only when he turned his head to look at you did you suddenly snap out of your daydream. You looked right at the monitor thinking you barely avoided Minjae noticing you staring, but he noticed well before he even turned to look at you. In fact, he felt you staring him down, and despite the fact that he was playing the song, he heard you gulp the building pool of saliva in your mouth. Plus, it did not help your case that your face and ears were reddening slowly.

“Y/N,” Minjae said, nearly startling you out of your skin.

“Y-yeah?”

“You good?”

“Y-yeah…”

“You sure?”

You were going to respond with another yeah, but the words got stuck in the back of your throat when you felt his hand on your thigh, his hand rubbing inwards ever so slowly. Butterflies rampaged through your entire body when you felt his burning touch, the impure thoughts in your head getting dirtier by the second.

“You know, if you wanted, you could just ask.”

“What’re you talking about?” you deflected while trying to reclaim your thigh from him; but, you were unsuccessful, and he ended up moving his hand along your thigh, closer to your crotch. “Okay! Okay, I know, what you mean!”

“I can help you relieve that tension right now if you’d like.”

“Right now? In here?”

Minjae nodded.

“Are you insane?! In here?! What the fuck?!”

“Got a problem with that?”

“A bunch!” your voice nearly shrilled. “Aren’t there cameras? What if someone walks in? And—”

“No one will come in here since you need to have the key card to get in, and there are no cameras in here.”

“Still, but…”

You tried to find more reasons to object to having sex in the studio, but when his hand reached for your face and his fingers held your chin, your mind melted. He brought your face closer to his, and your eyes fluttered close when he brought his lips towards yours, but he stopped, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

“Is it because you don’t want to do this with me, or because you’re just nervous about the location?”

“…The latter.”

“If that’s the case, then don’t worry about it.”

“How a can I not worry about it when that’s all I’ll be thinking about?”

“Then I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t even be able to think.”

Without a second to lose, Minjae’s lips were on yours. You didn’t think he was going to be so intense with you right off the bat, but when his tongue pushed into your mouth, you were completely taken aback. You leaned into him and held onto his shoulders when you felt his hands move down to your waist. His fingers slipped under your shirt and tiptoed their way up, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his hands went over your breasts and started massaging over your bra painfully well, your grip on him tightened, and you pushed yourself further into his chest, a slight moan leaving your lips. You for sure thought Minjae was going to laugh at your reaction to his touch, but he was so intently focused on you that he was just eating up every single noise that escaped your soul.

You whimpered and whined slightly when his lips left yours, a thin string of saliva barely connecting his tongue to yours before being broken the second he brought his lips to your neck and started sucking lightly on your skin. His hands held the bottom of your shirt and pulled it upwards, your bra getting pushed up shortly thereafter. You flung your head back and let out a gasp mixed with a sigh when he started sucking on your nipple, his teeth nibbling slightly as he did so. He pinched and twisted your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine.

Next thing you knew, you were fully naked and sitting all by yourself on the swivel chair, the arm rests down for you to grip. Minjae lifted one of your legs and set it over his shoulder as he pushed the other to the side to fully reveal your soaking wet cunt, your slick glistening with the lights of the monitor. You felt Minjae exhale lightly, making your toes curl with excitement and lust. You face was burning up when you looked down to see Minjae looking up at you with shining eyes and a little smirk on his face. He didn’t have to utter a word for you to know that he was thoroughly entertained by your reaction to his being.

It was when he licked a stripe down your cunt did you fully lose your mind. Yellow and white sparks filled your vision as Minjae took his time with you. His tongue swirled around your clit, and he slipped a delicate finger through your folds. He curled the finger inside you and left it there the more he slurped you up and let his tongue wildly flick against your raw bud. You gripped onto the arm rests for dear life and bit your lower lip painfully hard when you felt the finger slip out and his tongue replace its position.

“Darling, you can be as loud as you want. No one’s gonna hear a fucking thing,” Minjae said softly as looked up at you with devious eyes and a slight smirk, your arousal fluid completely coating his mouth.

You weren’t planning on taking him up on that until he sucked on your clit, the feeling of the suction absolutely driving you up the wall. A sweet, loud moan sounded in the studio, more gasps and moans tumbling out of your mouth when you felt him slip two of his fingers inside you, fingering you slowly but with immense intention. Your hands left the arm rests and moved to his hair, his hair bunching up in your fists as you pushed him closer to your pussy.

“Ah! Mmm— Min-Minjae,” you cried as you tugged at his hair, prompting him to look at you. “More…”

Wordlessly, Minjae delivered. He kept curling his fingers inside you every time he pulled his fingers out, and he fingered you way faster as he slurped obnoxiously, your arousal filling his mouth completely. It was when he left your clit with a sickly sweet kiss did you cum, white filling your vision as you flung your head back and moaned loudly. You squirted right into his mouth, the boy downing everything like it was his last meal. You felt your face get hotter the more lewd noises he made with just his tongue and your pussy.

You thought he would be done, but he was far from over. He barely gave you a second to rest before diving in again, his fingers ruthlessly fingering you and rubbing along your g-spot repetitively, overstimulating you to the max. You were still riding your high when he pushed further, and it felt like you were seeing heaven and hell at the same time when you came for the second time, white filling your vision as you felt your body nearly burst into flames.

“W-wait, Minjae,” you said while breathing heavily, your hands desperately pushing his head away from your cunt. “I just—”

You cut yourself off when you saw his face, your arousal dribbling down his lips and dripping from his chin, his face pink and rosy. You were completely shocked— not once had you cum like that for any boy you had hooked up with in the past, and you definitely did not expect yourself to cum that hard ever in your entire lifetime. So, when you saw that the collar of Minjae’s shirt was also drenched, you wanted the Earth to swallow you whole.

“I guess I have to,” Minjae said as he stood up. He used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face, giving you the slightest peak at his toned torso. “I’ve got to check out of the studio soon, so we’ll continue this back at my place if that’s alright with you.”

You finally understood what Junmin was hinting at. Minjae was going to be the best sex you ever had, and there was no going back from there.

“Fuck, yes, please.”

#broatz request #xikers #xikers minjae #kim minjae #minjae smut #minjae x reader #kim minjae xikers #minjae xikers #minjae xikers smut #xikers minjae smut #kim minjae smut #broatz

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janehaster · 6 months

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Solas is not the Dread Wolf

Since Trespasser, everyone is departing from the assumption that Solas is the Ancient Elven God known as Fen'Harel. What everyone should be asking, though, is: where's the evidence?

Solas claims a lot of things when we meet him again in Trespasser. He also claimed he was a harmless apostate that used to live in a secluded village during our first dialogue interaction with him. Throughout the game, he makes tons of statements which later prove to be false or misleading. And when confronted with the possibility that he's not who he claims to be, you earn disapproval from him.

(Remember the dialogue after the Wicked Eyes quest, in the rotunda at Skyhold, where he disapproves if you hint at how odd it is that he misses court intrigue if he'd never been in a court before?)

Now, Solas made several wild claims to the Inquisitor about his identity. However, we know for a fact that he is a mitomaniac (the habit of lying, of fabricating untrue stories to manipulate people's perceptions, either about the subject in order to cast them in a favourable light or to alter their perception of reality and facts), a tendency closely associated with narcissists, psychopaths and megalomaniacs. This is highly relevant to DA4 because, if he indeed isn't who he claims to be, then he is more dangerous than we realize.

Let's assume Solas isn't Fen'Harel. Instead, he was a mage living in the times of Arlathan. We can attribute his knowledge of the Evanuris to him living or working closely to and with them. Maybe he was a servant? An escape slave, freed by Fen'Harel? And in the process, he may have met Mythal and became her follower, even a close ally. That would explain why she calls him "old friend".

Solas, being simply an ordinary servant of the Evanuris, knows everything about where their power truly comes from. He knew about in uthenera, the sleep of "immortality", and so managed to wake up thousands of years into the future. He knew about the Elven orbs - the Foci - and the power they held to allow passage into the Fade from the waking world.

What he (likely) did not know is how to use some of these powers correctly. Hence, his failure in expecting Corypheus to die after unlocking the orb. In fact, the orb likely belonged to another Evanuris and he was stealing it, with Fen'Harel's followers being none the wiser.

There were other failures that Solas confesses, such as the fact that a great portion of Arlathan, located in the Fade, was destroyed after creating the Veil. Not only that, but every life form literally became Tranquil due to his actions. As he himself states, he made everything worse in the hopes of saving the world from the Evanuris. This is very telling, because if any of this is true, then it means he is incapable of foreseeing the consequences of his manipulation of magic, and he isn't such a great magic wielder as the legendary Elven God he claims to be. Or worse, he claimed to have performed these magical feats by himself when it was in fact the historical Fen'Harel who performed them.

And worst of all: if Solas isn't Fen'Harel, then he's no more than a power-hungry mage going after the powers of the Evanuris to storm the Black City and claim true godhood. That would explain why he states: "as the world burns in the raw chaos"...he doesn't really care about the consequences of his actions, not even to the Elven people, who he might be deceiving in order to get them to work for him, so long as he can control what could very well be the Heart of Thedas, the source of all life and magic and effectively become "The Maker", reshaping reality as he sees fit.

...

As usual, this is just speculation on my part. However, Solas' magical blunders and his complete lack of power after waking up from in uthenera are highly suspicious. Couple that with him being a mitomaniac and the fact that the real Dread Wolf seems to be a spirit from the Fade guarding the Black City, rather than an Elven mage and you have the perfect combination of factors for suspecting that Solas might be in fact a CHARLATAN. For all we know, the real Fen'Harel might even be trapped with the rest of the Evanuris. Until the Veil is lifted and they are freed, we won't know.

#dragon age #dragon age theory #solas dragon age #dragon age 4 #solas #arlathan #theory #dragon age lore #dragon age speculation

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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 month

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No because Karasu just has it all no one compares to him like Aoyama stressing for good reason LMAOO

Fr no in between….Mira once again serving the community with realistic dynamic representations….

LMAOOO EXACTLY that was my exact vision for Otoya!! I think it works esp well because we know he’s such a good with the flow dude…so he’d be like ok welp boxers are swag

FR im so excited for Karasu content because I’d imagine we’d get at least like two more chapters worth of Karasu panels soooo (please let him appear more in the main series too omg) another visual added to the manifestation circle

He’s so gorgeous in the epinagi series!!! I think it’s also because the artist has more time to like thoughtfully draw everything out so there’s not as many low quality npc type panels or moments LOL

LMAO good luck coming up with the au theme!! In Mira we trust part 15 but omg a title already…is this top secret….if not…..I’d love to hear it….

SHSHSH stop this has me kicking my feet we’re like y/n and tullia in the Miraverse but on tumblr LMAOOO but SAME sometimes crack is refreshing like I’ll never saw no to a goofy moment where no one’s dying but instead they’re just involved in crazy stupid shenanigans

HSJSHSJS you’re about to collect the entire bllk cast with that thinking /j it’s ok we steer you away and back to the tabietiaken side character agenda….but yeah something about ness just doesn’t do it for me LOL but FRR I remember following along with the chameleon/Charizard rebellious phase I ate up that drama

LMFAOOOOOO BRO BROCK I can’t that’s so funny….im ngl I always lowk made fun of Brock because he’d always go for all the nurse joys and office jennys and any adult female…maybe this was the first sign to your Otoya conversion HAHA ok but you are onto something….bro knows first aid and can cook well it fr is Otoya x Barou love child……kinda a player but I’d like to think he wouldn’t cheat and also husband material without all the yelling LMAOOO

Im ngl whenever I think of Brock I think of his croagunk coming to reign him in in the Sinnoh season and also his iconic line “I’ll use this frying pan as a drying pan” when they were running in the rain….so many good memories….

Ok responding to the other response here too so I don’t keep piling on asks

TULLIA >>>>> I’ll never get over her death in pi though…I was so invested I thought she’d end up happy with toge but no??? Anyways….but I see what you mean!! I think like a lot of the insert fics I’ve seen where the mc actually enters bllk it ends up just kinda following the plot of bllk but with the addition of the mc into the main character group and that setting makes it a bit hard to add canon divergent scenes that show character growth etc…..honestly the smau was perfect because we get to see the character interactions in the realm of “girls in bllk” while not having to worry about the logistical details of plot and whatnot LOL

LMAOO Otoya and Shidou a menace to everyone in bllk im crying Karasu getting constantly targeted and attacked was hilarious and it was honestly how I envisioned their characters to be like too sooooo (the head nod emojis crack me up in general they’re so goofy but SHIDOU using them just amplified the effect by like ten times)

I snorted at that part like bro really tweeted onto social media “please take me in as your child pls I need parents get married and hurry up”

THE GRAMMAR GUARDIAN + THE ALTERNATIVE INTERPRETATION OF TBE WORDS BEING A POINT OF TEASING ISAGI WAS GOLD like I read that part and really thought “this is so big brained omg this is hilarious”

PLS DO!! These were so entertaining to read LOLLL

ALSO apparently there’s some live/talk show going on in the next day or so with some of the vas where they’re gonna release new info on s2….will keep you posted if I see anything…..

- Karasu anon

words cannot describe how perf karasu is 😔 truly i feel like i haven’t liked a character this much in AGESSSS (besides nagi) like bllk really reignited smth in me!! and YES for sure there’s def a time constraint thing but also idk if you compare otoya or barou in epinagi with karasu specifically it’s just like damn…not even trying to hide who the fav is 😭 although maybe i’m just biased because he’s MY fav

i have a few titles floating around so ofc it’s subject to change especially based on what i actually end up writing abt but atm my fav is “dragonfly dance” 🤔 haven’t picked an au yet but i’m getting a very sad feel based on what’s brewing in my mind ☝🏻 not angry sad the way hollyhock is but like regretful sad if that makes sense 😰 smth abt fighting an inevitable destiny but knowing deep down you can’t really change it…we will see though maybe it’ll end up being smth more lighthearted!!

i think brock would be so happy to have a girl be into him that the thought of cheating would NOT cross his mind he’s like peak malewife material 🤩 PLS the frying pan like is so good 😭 he’s so iconic tbh the first few seasons of pokémon looking back were SO funny on a level that i as a child could not comprehend

LMAOOO i fr pulled up w a spin move there her death in pi was so brutal honestly 😓 but yk me letting my readers be happy is a new development and a bllkverse exclusive normally i’m much meaner!! and i will say that in this version in my mind mc is actually in a different wing altogether during the first selection…she was on the same first selection team as other characters we know (maybe like hiori and aryu??) and she was def on team z but not THE team z ☝🏻 meanwhile tullia was in yet another wing (maybe with shidou) so definitely opportunities to branch away from the main plot!! but then mc and tullia do end up as 2 and 3 during second selection (replacing aryu and tokimitsu) because they’re professional players so they can score 100 goals much faster than the others which means we do circle back to being alongside the manga storyline 😔💔 i don’t even have an issue with following canon because idm messing with that — it’s more so that there isn’t necessarily a CONFLICT for the mc besides being a girl?? but she’s a way better player than most of the bllk guys so it’s not a huge issue which means she doesn’t really need to develop much as a character 😬 plus my vision for her in the NEL is literally that she stays benched for the most part because loki thinks she’ll inhibit charles’s growth too much….so honestly i’m afraid a fully fledged story might not be too entertaining (although it certainly would have its moments…karasu x mc partnership plus a deconstruction/subversion of the “i can fix him” trope with nagi plus the tullia and isagi drama going on in the background) 😵‍💫 BUT smaus are perfect!!

THE HEAD NOD EMOJIS ARE SOO FUNNY and shidou would be the one to use them unironically 😭 pls karasu getting bullied was so good LMAOAOAO when he was like “it’s just one thing after another with you today” to otoya i think that was his best line he was so done 😔💔

can’t even blame hiori for that one because his only other options for a mother and father duo in this au are tullia + isagi which would be too friendly for him, tullia + barou which is just scary (mostly because of barou), anri + ego which is even scarier because they’re BOTH crazy, and mc + nagi which would actually be a worse situation than the one he’s in…nagi is NOT cut out to be the father that stepped up 😭💔 in a world of nagiy/n shippers (aka tullia and chigiri) hiori stands alone as the sole tabiy/n shipper 😓 besides maybe otoya but tbh otoya just roots for whatever he finds the funniest at the moment

LMAOOO i think my fav parts of smaus is making random characters interact when they hardly ever do in canon…like grammar guardian isagi and womanizer otoya hardly have any scenes together in the manga but they are beefing HEAVILY over twitter!! NOT TO MENTION OTOYA AND SHIDOU GANGING UP TO BULLY KARASU AND RIN 😭 like those two genuinely do not even interact but yet they just came together so naturally in the smau and i think half of the humor is just those random unexpected relationships that end up occurring HAHAHA

ooh definitely do keep me posted!! i’m always ready for more s2 info…because it means we’re just that much closer to tabieitaken on screen + the returns of nagi and barou (and the other characters ig 😩 preparing myself for the influx of aiku and sae content that’s abt to FLOOD my dash i’m sure)

#answered asks

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lazyyogi · 2 years

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Master Mala Maker: Sandalwood Blues

Mantra meditation will always have a special place in my heart. It was the first kind of meditation I ever practiced and it was the first spiritual practice that triggered a totally unexpected awakening experience in me.

Some of my writings on mantra meditation:

Initiation into Mantra

Introduction to Mantra Meditation 1

Introduction to Mantra Meditation 2

Given this gratitude for mantra (and my affection for tactile toys), it comes as no surprise that I really love a good mala, also known as prayer beads.

A mala is used to count the number of times a mantra is repeated in a meditation session. Since there are a finite number of beads in a mala, it also serves as a timer for the meditation. After the meditation, the mala can be worn around the neck, wrapped around a wrist, or kept in a pocket. Whenever the day's events threaten to unbalance you, the mala can then act as a touchstone, helping to touch base with the awareness cultivated during your practice.

There are many styles of prayer beads. Variations include the number of beads in the mala, the materials of the beads, the colors of the cord, whether or not to have knots between the beads, and any ornamentation of the guru bead with or without a tassel.

Over the years, I have acquired a mala now and then from a variety of makers. Recently I discovered a truly exceptional maker and I would be remiss not to share his business with you all.

It all began when I was searching for a sandalwood mala on etsy over the summer. I had seen sandalwood malas before, selling for around $30 or so. So when I discovered similar appearing malas selling for over $100 at Sandalwood Blues, I was a little confused. Until I learned, unsurprisingly, that most "sandalwood" prayer beads sold are counterfeit, in a sense. Authentic Mysore sandalwood is relatively endangered, is only harvested in small sustainable batches, and as such is rather costly. It is so prized because of the exquisite natural scent that emanates from the wood.

I was suspicious but also intrigued. Was there really that big of a difference? Well, I bought a sandalwood mala from the shop and to my surprise, it was very unlike the other "sandalwood" prayer beads I had seen before. The grain of the beads was much finer and smoother while the fragrance was unmistakable. It was one of those things with an undeniable difference in quality.

Impressed, I went back to the Sandalwood Blues shop to see what else they had. And that's when I saw they had chikna rudraksha.

Rudraksha are seeds that are traditionally used as beads for malas in India. They are my absolute favorite when it comes to material. They look like little brains and, over time, the highest quality rudraksha beads will darken, harden, and take on a shine. It is like the mala transforms with love and presence. Chikna rudraksha are the highest quality of rudraksha seed. If you held a chikna rudraksha and regular rudraksha mala in your hands, you would immediately discern the difference.

So of course I bought a rudraksha mala from Sandalwood Blues as well.

It. Was. Perfect.

The only other place I had found similar quality beads was from a Hindu spiritual supply company based in India. And if I am being honest, I actually felt these were even higher quality than the Indian company's.

At that point, I was sold. This kind of attention to quality at a reasonable price is just incredibly rare in this day and age. So when I had the idea for a custom mala as a gift for my girlfriend, I reached out to the shop owner, Jarek. Just when I thought this shop couldn't impress me more, interacting with the owner and creator took it to another level.

Jarek is a kind and abundantly knowledgeable craftsman. He responds to every message the same day, often in a matter of minutes. What's more, he really understood my vision. I realized that once I conveyed what I had in mind, I could leave a significant amount of the decision making up to him and trust his process.

The mala was perfect, a gorgeous pearl and rudraksha mala that really blew me away. And when I wanted another custom mala for my Kriya Yoga practice (depicted at the top of this post), I went straight back to Jarek.

From now on, he is my go-to master craftsman for any prayer bead questions or needs. He demonstrated such superb quality in both his materials and constructions while also displaying an intuitive understanding of his customer's needs.

I always feel that people and businesses whose love and passion inspire them to go above and beyond need to be shared with others. Especially when they are masters of their art.

It makes me so happy knowing Jarek is out there making these magical creations that both support spiritual practices while adorning the practitioner with the symbolic fruits of their practice.

May his work contribute to the peace, freedom, and happiness of all beings in all worlds.

#spirituality #mala #prayer beads #mantra #yoga #tantra #meditation #buddhism #zen #inspo #mindfulness #necklace

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whumpingisfun · 1 year

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Respect and Responsibility | 1 | Doorstep

TWs: dehumanization, pet whump (of the human variety), modern institutionalized slavery, fantasy whump, overuse of magical abilities, offscreen beating

Theo is a thief. He’s had sticky fingers since he was little. Shiny things hoarded away in his room. Silverware, coins found under the couch, chocolate. His mother had teased him about being a little dragon, and he supposes it’s true in a way.

As he’d grown older, the shiny things he collected grew in value.

But he’d never stolen a person before.

Okay. Back up, rewind.

Theodoric de La Rosa is a thief. But even a thief has morals.

Theo had come to Rynthem’s capitol Zale for a heist. It was a simple one, something, something, wrongful inheritance, stolen from natives,something, something, the usual shit that a rich schmuck would do for something shiny, blah, blah, hoarding away relics that deserved to be with their culture and people where it would be properly used and kept safe, etcetera, etcetera.

This time it was a painting. And a few statues. Masks? Lots of shit.

Anyways, Theo had gone in for a painting.

He’d done all the proper paperwork, gotten all the visas squared away. Juniper had done an amazing job giving him a proper cover as someone well off and in good standing.

But the check in for Rynthem was… weird. The vibes were off. It made all of his long honed instincts rise up.

Maybe it was the person who was also behind the checkpoint desk with the chipper customs agent who signed his passport. The blue collar cinched tightly around their pale neck, the artful way their bright sunshine yellow hair swooped over their bright blue eyes, looking like they had just stepped off a movie set. The way their smile was just, this side of fake. Almost plastic. Different from the cheerful customer service smile in that there was a sense if Theo tried to get them to have any expression other than the one painted on their face… it would crack their face wide open.

“...I like your collar.” he compliments the person. “It’s a very pretty shade of blue.”

“Thank you, Mr. de La Rosa.” the customs agent smiles, widely, all teeth, instead of the person Theo had addressed.

It’s clear, in the flashing of the customs agent’s eyes, how the person standing at attention behind the customs agent looks down briefly, that Theo had misstepped. “I hope you enjoy your stay at Rynthem~” their voice is cold.

Theo clears his throat awkwardly, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. “You, uh. You have a nice day?”

Theo didn’t know it at the time, but that was the first time he’d interacted with a Pet. It wouldn’t be the last, either.

That vaguely off-putting sense just grew stronger as Theo entered Zale proper, leaving the hustle and bustle of the Transportation Hub Station.

It wasn’t obvious. Of course it wouldn’t be obvious. It just was.

It was the small things. How certain people followed others at just the shortest clip behind and to the right or left - presumably the dominant hand. The collars that Theo had first thought was just a fashion statement tightly cinched around certain people’s throats. Some even had leashes.

Hybrids, people with brightly colored hair that would have looked unnatural on other people’s faces, all with collars, all of them just slightly off, too perfect. Uncannily so.

Places in the restaurants with spots for a leash to be attached to, pillows to kneel on.

Signs in shop windows saying ‘NO PETS ALLOWED’, and places where you would tie the leash to a post. All of them human, kneeling or standing in the designated area. Waiting. Some of them drinking out of small dishes as they waited in the dry Rynthian summer heat.

What was horrible about it was that it was so normal.

It was so casual, that it took Theo ten minutes to realize that those were people that the signs referred to. It took someone exiting a store, with a collared person in tow, staggering under the immense weight of all the bags and boxes and totes.

Too perfect, too shiny, too artificial.

These people were slaves.

These people were Pets.

Theo was sick in the next public trashcan and had to go find a medical mask in a convenience store after he’d been stared at for too long for doing something so ‘unseemly’.

And then he spent the next ten to thirty minutes hyperventilating in an alleyway, because Pets were everywhere, tagging along with their owners, seemingly happy with their lives of servitude, eyes always plastered adoringly on their owners’ faces.

He dials Juniper, despite the long distance charge and the risk factor.

“Juni I can’t do this.”

“WHAT?!?? After all the extra effort it took to get you the proper clearance and identification?!” Juniper’s tinny voice echoes in Theo’s ears.

“Juni, there are literal slaves here!” Theo’s voice shakes as he tries to keep his voice down. “There are slaves, and I can’t save any of them, and I get the feeling if I try anything, they’re going to make ME disappear.”

He’d gotten the feeling from how he’d addressed the customs agent’s Pet. How he had misstepped and was on thin ice. The realization of the danger he was in was like a cold ice cube melding with the sweat prickling his body, dousing him in a terribly horrid polar plunge.

He was shivering.

“--eo, Theo, my boy, listen to me.” The calm, assured voice of Theo’s dear mentor, Professor Hale, rolled deep into his ear. “Take a deep breath.”

Oh. Right. Breathing. Breathing was a thing.

Theo sucked in a deep shuddery breath and held it, counting to five.

“There’s a good lad.” Professor Hale murmurs. “Now, let me know when you’ve calmed down. You won’t retain anything if you panic.”

Right. Right. Panic was the archnemesis of a proper thief.

Okay. Okay… shit it wasn’t okay -- but breathe. Breathe. Exhale for five… Inhale… hold, two, three, four, five… Cycling air in and out of the lungs in a measured fashion.

Stinky trashcan.

Theo’s eyes flicker around the alleyway, nose wrinkling under his glasses.

Brick wall.

Really noisy neon sign.

Gravel and rocks poking me in the ass.

…why do I feel like I’m forgetting something.

OH RIGHT AIR--

Theo coughs as he sucks in a deep lungful of air.

“You know, when I told you to breathe, I meant it, young man.” Professor Hale’s voice rumbles in his ear, slightly tinny from the connection.

“R-right--” he coughs, wheezing slightly as he swallows spit wrong. “Fuck!”

“Swear jar.”

“Damn it Hale, I’m in a situation!”

That gets a bark of laughter from the other side of the phone. It makes Theo smile, but it quickly fades.

“Professor, what am I going to do?” he asks helplessly.

There’s a pause on the other side of the phone, and Theo can’t help but picture the concentrated look on the old man’s face as he considers his words carefully.

“Theodoric, I want you to listen to me carefully.”

Theo straightens. Oh shit, full name coming out. “Yes sir.”

The smile is audible but strained in Professor Hale’s voice. “I want you to document everything you see carefully.”

Theo swallows. “...you mean…”

“Yes. I believe the situation calls for it. I know it will leave you exhausted every day, but if you take some over the counter pain management, you should be fine.”

“You mean not debilitated by migraines and able to get the goal you sent me here for.” Theo cuts in.

Another pause. “...well, yes.”

Theo sighs, rubbing his forehead as he sets his head back on the wall. “Okay.”

There’s an audible scuffle of the phone being argued over quietly before Juniper audibly wins by elbowing Professor Hale in the gut.

“Theo I’m sorry, I should have looked harder at where you were going, I would have NEVER sent you there alone if I’d known--”

Theo sighs, eyes sliding shut. “And have you and the Professor at risk too?” he wearily asks. “No, its better if I’m the only one here. I’ll get in, and get out, and send the prize back to HQ as soon as I can. Just… if you guys don’t hear from me again, if things go wrong--”

“Don’t talk like that.” Juniper’s voice is breaking a little. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna get home, and make us chili again. You hear me de La Rosa? You’re going to make me chili again, the really spicy one!”

That gets a laugh out of Theo. “You just love me for my food, Juni.” he teases. He sucks in a steadying breath. “A-anyways. If I don’t make it back, make sure to look after Whiskers for me.”

“I still can’t believe you named your cat Whiskers.” Juni sighs. “It’s like naming a baby Fingers.”

There’s a strangled choking noise on the other end of the line that doesn’t come from Juniper as Theo snorts and then starts to laugh hard enough tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Sure, Juni. Next time I’ll let you name my cat.” Theo wheezes. “I love you guys. I’m so sorry about the bill.”

A soft sigh. “I’ll handle it, Theo.” the Professor’s voice is warm. Soothing. Theo can hear his shoulders loosen even oceans away just by hearing the old man’s voice.

His eyes slide closed with a soft sigh. “Thank you, Professor. …I should get out of this alley.”

“Be safe, Larcine.”

He straightens.

“I will. Thank you Professor. You two stay safe, keep HQ running.”

“Yes sir, Leader sir!” Juniper cackles and then the connection crackles shut.

Leaving Theo alone, in a country run by the very thing he despised.

So, almost to present day. How about that heist.

The target? Lord Harrison Carter’s summer mansion.

Theo gets in as serving staff. New hire, sweet face, no one can resist his sweet face, and with the high pedigree and service record Juniper had forged, no one can resist his resume.

He’s put in rotation. But there are whispers in the staff room after the noon tea is served.

Lord Carter is getting a Pet.

Theo is practically invisible as he goes about the usual menial tasks the staff are wont to do. Cleaning. Tidying. Dusting. There’s a lot of dusting. Theo can’t see any spec of dust anytime he’s sent to do another round of dusting.

If it weren’t for everyone doing the dusting, Theo would think he was being hazed.

No, the hazing comes from a different angle.

It’s his face that gets him in the most trouble.

He’s pretty and he knows it. Flaunts it a little with the girls and the boys who swing that way, winking and generally getting a laugh out of everyone once it’s clear he’s just having fun and has no intentions to flirt his way into a bed.

Despite him not having any intentions, it still gets him slammed up against one of the lockers in the changing rooms.

Frankly, it gets him beat to hell and he staggers out of it, bleeding. He doesn’t remember much, after a certain point. There was the richly decorated hallway swimming in his eyes… and then nothing.

He wakes up in the hospital wing of the mansion. Bandaged and with a pounding headache he can feel through what must be a nice cocktail of pain medication because wow is he floaty.

A man, who must be his temporary boss, sits at a chair by his bedside, reading a novel that Theo is too fucked up to read. Oh. Right. They broke his glasses. Damn.

“Good morning Sir.” is what he tries to say.

What comes out is a garbled, “Gurdmurnigir.”

Larcine, one of the rising thieves in the underworld, reduced to incoherent mumbling.

Great.

“Mr. Rosa, you’re awake.” The man closes his book with a snap that makes Theo flinch. Ow. Motherfucker.

Harrison Carter is a man who, in Theo’s drug addled and blunt mind, looks sick as fuck, and not in a good way. The man is frail, gaunt, with the same air of fragility that the Professor gets when it’s a bad day and the man feels all of his many years. Thinning brown hair frames his narrow, gaunt face and his cheekbones could cut glass. The only reason Carter isn’t as pale as a white sheet of paper, is because the man still has a healthy dose of melanin in him.

His dark brown eyes are sharp, however.

Sharp and cold.

“Tell me, Mr. Rosa, who did this to you? I wish to have them… disciplined.”

Theo swallows. “Hhhhow?” he chokes out.

A hand runs through his hair. It makes him shudder at the subtle intimacy of it. Like Theo is a kid sick at home. He doesn’t like it. This old man who’s probably in his fifties, maybe sixties is nowhere near his father.

…despite having investigated Lord Harrison Carter on the outside, before heading in, the man doesn’t look a day over thirty, despite the sickness obviously ravaging the man’s body.

Chills run up and down Theo’s spine.

“Oh, you won’t have to worry about that, young man.” Carter says idly, playing with Theo’s hair. “Just let us good folk take care of it for you.”

Theo stares blankly up at the man, and then just lets his eyes roll up in the back of his head.

The next time he’s awake, he’s much more clear headed, and in much less pain. It’s a tiny little nurse on a large stool with big green owl-like eyes behind thick glasses who just stareeees at him quietly and makes notes in her little tablet before informing him that he is free to go home with two weeks of paid time off which - when she sees him about to refuse - is non-negotiable and the pay includes hazard compensation.

“The culprits who have harmed you on Lord Carter’s property have been dealt with.” she informs him primly. “When you return from your rest, you will not have to worry.

Theo smiles a smile that’s only charming in how miserable and pathetic it is. “...thanks.”

He’s trying really hard not to think about what kind of punishment his current - temporary - employer had handed out.

She hands him his glasses. “Your eyeglasses have been repaired, free of charge.” she says.

“...thanks.” He puts them on, instantly relaxing when his vision comes back into focus. No migraines. Thank Lupin.

He slowly sits himself up completely and limps out of the medical wing under his own power, and wishing that the generosity of the Lord he was working under didn’t come at a price.

There’s a box on the mansion’s doorstep.

Theo stops, staring.

There’s a box on the mansion’s doorstep.

It’s big. More of a crate than a simple package box.

He turns back around. Hands fists by his side. He can’t risk the heist. The Lucine Guild had already promised the museums and families they would get their heritage back. He can’t.

He can’t.

…

……

………

“Fucking damn it.” He turns around again, ripping off his glasses and this time, the world doesn’t go blurry, but instead sharpens. Every blade of neatly mowed grass stands out next to each other, sharpened into high definition as time unspools around him. It’s like walking through molasses. It’s like walking through air. The beat of his heart is his drum his drum his drum and he’s almost drunk from the heady beat it brings him.

He watches himself move through time, a phantom. Separate from himself as he is now, decked in purple hues. He watches as he stops. He looks back. He looks forward again. And then time shatters in two.

In blue hues, Theodoric de La Rosa goes on, never stopping. He nudges that timeline back into view as he grabs the box and wrestles it inside the haze. In that hazy, flickering timeline, the box disappears sometime later while the blue coated Theo is still walking, oblivious, visible on camera to be too far away to have even grabbed the gigantic box.

Theo is sweating.

His head is pounding. Vision swimming.

He pulls and pulls the box even as his muscles burn.

He pulls and maneuvers this box, all the way through town, inch by grueling inch, his world completely coated in red hues. All the while, the specter of his blue self haunts him, blocks ahead, growing farther distant and as that distance grows, so does the pain in Theo’s head.

The red world blurs until it is just Theo and the box. The box and Theo. Something warm and wet trickles down his neck. Down his chin. But he doesn’t have time to stop, and wipe away what must be blood from him overusing his Gift.

If he lets go, time starts for the box, and Theo will lose his chance with so many people around to see the box suddenly appear.

So inch by grueling inch, he pulls the box closer to that blue specter of a self that chose differently, of a self that Theo made real by forcing the timelines to behave as if only one choice had happened in a tree of choices.

He gets the box into his apartment. His shielded and warded apartment.

He lets go of the box, and with shaky fingers he shoves his glasses back on, sucking a deep ragged breath as he melds and slams into his other timeline’s self. The memories make him gag, as memories that are alien and foreign to him slide slick and oily into his mind.

In another life Theodoric de La Rosa never stops to help another person. He steals and steals because of his own sense of greed. Alone--

He collapses against the box, choking on bile, swallowing rapidly. His hands fumble with the mechanisms of the box, fumbling for the latch.

The last thing he sees, as his blood soaked fingers hit the right mechanism, are wide gold eyes, rainbow hair and porcelain white skin, half in shadow as the box opens like unspooling origami.

And then he is enveloped in darkness once again.

#dehumanization #pet whump #bbu inspired #modern institutionalized slavery #fantasy whump #overuse of magical abilities #offscreen beating #Theodoric de La Rosa #Respect and Responsibility #Theo and Sammy

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betweenthings2 · 4 months

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hello!!! warning you now that this is going to be the longest thing ever because i’m allergic to being concise but it’s finally time for me to actually send you an ask to gush and discuss your incredible writing. i’ve been interacting with your work on ao3 and tumblr for over a year now and i just lurk and heart everything because i refuse to use tumblr how it’s intended to be used🫣 but it’s time to show my face (even though this is anonymous oops) and say the quality of your writing is genuinely unparalleled to anything else i’ve ever read online and dare i say it comes close to/ overtakes some of the published books i’ve read and loved. you are such a talent it drives me crazy. you’ve quite literally spoiled fanfiction for me because i’ll read something for a different fandom and think “ugh it’s good but it’s not betweenthings2😔😔😔”

i saw you answer an ask a while ago asking what your goal for writing is and you said something along the lines of wanting to move people with your work. when i saw that it made me smile because you’ve achieved it ten times over and im worried you don’t realise it!!! so im going to tell you about my experience reading Roadkill for the first time (side note but in my opinion this is your best and therefore most underrated piece and i would love to talk about it further)

i remember being at a cafe that day by myself having a little drink and sweet treat and getting the email notification that you’d posted something to ao3 and nearly dying from anticipation for the rest of the day because i knew i wouldn’t do the fic justice to just quickly read it in a noisy cafe. it would be a waste of art. so in the evening i lied to my parents that i had plans with friends and wouldn’t be home for dinner and instead walked to the park near my house with a block of chocolate and sat on a park bench in the slightly-chilly-but-still-nice-out australian dusk. trust me i remember it so vividly because it’s like a core memory for me now. i’d been going through a really tough time mentally and felt super disconnected from everything and everyone. when i tell you i read all 35k words in one sitting and wept like a baby. i’m a very emotional girl dont get me wrong but the release that your writing made me feel was something so special that i’d never felt before. the whole piece is so devastating and confronting and just misery but it made me feel so seen and whole and human. if i could describe your writing in one word i think it would be human. everything is always raw and vulnerable and messy but so tender it just makes me insane. i sat in that park and cried for such a long time and even though the whole experience was so heavy and i could feel the grief you manufactured in my gut i left that park feeling lighter and grounded. i think that’s how anyone would feel after witnessing such greatness. (side note but i’ve actually banned myself from re-reading roadkill for the minute because it makes me lose my mind a bit too much but that’s just a further testament to you. can’t wait to get back to my scripture later on)

your other fics on ao3 and perfect as well and i read Second Letter From St Julian, All This Barley Getting By, I Forget A Lot Of Things But I’ll Never Forget You and Me And You vs Them religiously. they are my comfort fics through and through🩷 maybe the hyper fixation has gone too deep for me but when i’m trying to fall asleep i use the plots of your fics to expand on in my head and it’s just the perf combination to lull me to sleep.

now for imo the main event of this ask- i need to tell you the extreme and life threatening brainrot THIS specific line from Of Bouquets And Back Rubs has given me.

"Sorry," Matty apologizes.

George sighs, but doesn't stop. "I'm going to start talking to your therapist if you keep apologizing for things you don't need to apologize for," he says.

what the hell. you can’t just write that and expect my whole world to not revolve around it for the rest of my life. that line ping pongs around my head at all times. at work, in the shower, when i’m on a walk, when i’m laying in bed, it’s literally always on my mind. i don’t know why but i just thought you should know that’s it’s STUCK with me. like i’m truly affected. (if you ever wanted to expand on it you know you have at least one devoted fan of the idea)

hopefully this will be my first of many asks because it’s so nice to finally tell you how deeply in love i am with your words. to hold me accountable i’ll claim the matcha emoji 🍵 if that’s something you do!!!!

i just realised i didn’t tell you how your prompts make me melt but they do and i wouldn’t survive the commute to tafe without them. just little bites of pure literature you spoil us so much.

thanks for giving me something to lurk on and obsess over- it’s been an honour🩷 (also ps i wonder if you can figure out who this is based on the freaky amount of times i heart your posts. someone has to sit me down and explain that this isn’t instagram🤕)

Hi, newly christened Matcha Anon!! =)

I meant to answer this yesterday, but I just kept reading through it and being so incredibly touched and blown away by all of your kind words that I didn't entirely have a response, but I think I do now. I will also be long.

First of all, I am so touched (and a little surprised) that you find my writing to be on par with published novels, so thank you so much, that is such an amazing compliment!!! I can't believe I've spoiled you for fic. I'm getting back into the swing of things now that I'm home, so I'll have more fic for you soon.

I'm also so glad to hear that I've creating something moving. Sometimes I think I take things a little too seriously, particularly writing fic, but I'm thrilled to hear that you find my work moving. This will be stuck in my head forever:

"it would be a waste of art."

Roadkill was a lot to write because it gets so bleak and some of me is in there, but I'm so moved by your experience of reading it and honored that you would share it. That's my goal, generally--to create catharsis. And to see my fanfic called greatness? Oh my god. Oh my god. I have no words other than oh my god and thank you so, so much!!

I'm thrilled to see that Of Bouquets and Backrubs resonated with you, particularly that bit of dialogue. That whole fic was a little bit last minute, to be entirely honest and I was working so hard to make it fluffy, rather than angsty. I might expand on that fic in the future, but I also really like how it ended. Who knows what will happen. I don't.

I'm also so happy that you like the prompts! I think they're really fun to write and very low stakes for me. Apologies for not having a more regular schedule for posting anything, but there's no way I could keep that up for more than a week or two. I would explode.

Thank you so much for all the compliments and reading what I write!!! 💚💚💚

#asks #betweenthings talks

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starburstfloat · 1 year

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ok ok i’m rly late to watching their VMA perf bc i was out all day but oh my god they KILLED IT!!!

their presence was so powerful and the michael jackson influence was *chef’s kiss* they did so well!! IMO soogyu’s vocals work rly well for this type of song and i wish that could have been captured better in this stage :( that said, the camerawork was much better here!!

and can we talk about the styling and overall creative direction too??? something is definitely up with all the rain elements for tnc: freefall 🤨 loved the whole undressing/shoulder exposure going on — it’s def still following the whole maturity arc they got going on — a teasing kind of sensuality that works so well for them. such a delicate balancing act that they nail every time

you were right that the anitta interaction could have been spicier — we’ve seen the anitta solo perf behind vid with all her dancers grinding about!! Let them use their hips!! 🗣️

overall the boys did amazing and local twt is going crazy for them too 🥹 and i’m waiting impatiently for the song’s official release, and i’m sure i’m not the only one!!

Same here I've been so busy that I haven't found the time to properly sit down and analyze it but first off YES I agree their stage presence was excellent and I also loved the Michael Jackson vibes! I loved how confident they looked and sounded. The choice to have beomgyu and soobin stay in a lower register was perfect!!

Also idk who the performance director is but I want to personally thank them for giving beomgyu the coolest intro ever!!! Like!!!! Can we talk about how epic that was?!!!

That organ music opening with the thunder and lightning better be on the official track. Goosebumps everytime!

I hadn't even considered how the stage elements tie into the narrative arc of tnc but you're right that the rain and storm are probably indicative of where their story is going. I wonder what track position back for more will be on the album because if it's the first one it would tie well together with farewell neverland, of them having jumped and fallen but perhaps hitting a storm. I'm so hyped to see the track progression on this album and do more analysis! Again, whoever is the creative director here: I WANT YOUR JOB literally such a dream

In terms of anitta's part though yeah we really could have upped the spice 🙈 I mean. We all know what she's capable of. I think I was expecting more of an interactive choreo element with her but it was obvious that they've prepared choreography that would work well without her bc obviously they can't always perform this with her. Having said that I wonder who will replace her part in the live version at their concerts? 👀

Overall I'm with you on the reaction though; they killed it and seeing the locals go "damn didn't know these kpop boys were that good" is such an ego boost hahaha anywho~!! More rambles to come as the mv drops! Hope you're having a good week 😘

#txt vmas #moots

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sparring-spirals · 2 years

Note

I honestly adoring those episode, it has everything I could have hope for

FCG discovering their soul, that they developed themselves

The group fighting (literally) for Laudna

The interactions between VM and BH where perfect, Percy’s understandable anger towards the thought of being Delilah back, Vex’s guilt because she feel responsible for Laudna’s first death, and Pike just being Pike, the best damn baker

Oh, I am absolutely with you on that. GOD what an episode!!!! So many highlights!!!!!! So many fascinating character interactions and conversations and onion-peeling-layers and smidges of angst and determination and love and- nice. NICE. Im still so excited that everything is kind of coming out in interconnected jumbles, and I am absolutely going to end up writing individual metas about more of these, but suffice it to say:

(i got so excited, this got long, sorry. its basically like 5 different seeds of metas)

- I loved F.C.G's reaction to getting definitive proof they were alive. I love that it was almost less joyous and a little more scared. Because it IS scary! All this time, F.C.G has been living their life for others, divining their purpose from others, they haven't really been living like they were. Alive. Realizing you have a life on your own terms, under your own control, is freeing, and that freedom can be scary! and kind of shitty, sometimes! You have all this space to fuck up. You have all this responsibility if you do. F.C.G realizes they have a life, they are alive, their life matters. and their first reaction is "well, shit." thats SO GOOD. "Well, I have to live." "Unfortunately, true." 👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌🥳🥳🥳🥳

- I'm a little less confident on my reads of Vox Machina but from what I knew I really liked how those conversations played out. It all made sense to me. which is nice. Percy with his family and hard won peace around him, seeing his worst fears rise up and threaten. Vex with guilt around her shoulders but the chance to help. Pike with that kindness and sincerity and flour on her clothes and being unused to reviving again but so good at helping. And also Keyleth really needing a nap and a few hugs maybe. Someone get that gal some calming tea, stat. The interplay- Vex touching Laudna's ears, Pike watching everyone with entertainment, THE ASHTON AND PERCY CONVERSATION. god that conversation

- I've got so many feelings about Bell's Hells literally fighting for Laudna, fighting through a mindscape comprised of Laudna's personal demons. I've got SO many. Some people have already written excellent posts about it (@c-is-for-circinate's post here, and @mockingmolly s post here, come to mind), and I already waxed poetic about it right after the episode but like. its so good! its symbolic and sweet and weighted and poetic and like. When Pike proposed it, they all said yes, almsot immediately, with almost no hesitation. This party of people who were always so eager to dive into each others problems, to help each other, getting to LITERALLY. Dive in and fight and help and save. And they did it through a weird fucked up slumber party. perf. (and i JUST READ A OSOT ABOUT THIS and need ti add it here and its about how laudna Isnt Getting A Say In It rn as well intentioned as it is which. also makes it. kind of fucked. god this needs its own post but like. yea.)

- you didnt mention this explicitly but the ashton and percy convo and tbh everything about how ashton reacted to these massively powerful people- the unsureness and reservations then just- straight up opening up to Percy, in a way, in their fury. the changes in them moving them to anger, still, but of a different sort. pleading, but angrily, furious, trying to push reason. so offensive their defense dropped. that conversation was SOMETHING.

- Also not mentioned but like. Imogen, my gal. My buddy. my darling. oh boy.

- chet's little kindnesses and reactions through the ep were also Something

- i hope fearne steals something

anyway sorry lost the plot a little here but YES what an EPISODE i am HOLLERING and BLOWING AIRHORNS 🥳

#(i had a drink and got excited writing this sorry but YES what an episode. so much to unpack)#critical role #cr spoilers #spar speaks #ask away!#c3e36 #....#character meta #?#of a sort

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hijinxensues · 2 years

Text

The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma - Part 11

RotTMNT Donatello x OC!AFAB

Synopsis: Donatello considered himself, nay, deemed himself the greatest mind of his generation. He was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer and was a technological genius. Dare he throw in that he was a damn good brother and held the title of being ¼th ‘Protector of New York City’.

He could barely fathom that he didn’t piece together that the pretty barista he was falling for was simultaneously his gaming buddy (might I add, for the last eight years) and was working for Big Mama.

At this very moment, Donatello was sure of two things in his life. One of them being his life was a joke and the second being that he was fraternizing with the enemy.

All because he decided to run errands whilst donning his cloaking brooch.

Warnings: Aged-Up turtles, fluff, Half-Yokai OC, AFAB OC (does use she/her/they pronouns in writing), swearing

FIRST

Ch 11 – Iris

“Perf, pick me up at 6pm.” Violet leans against the door frame, one hand on the doorknob.

“That is amenable. It’s a date.” Donatello nods and pulls at his sleeves to adjust them, there were too many seams touching his skin.

“It’s a date! Bye, Donnie!” She waves at him then closes the door behind her leaving him staring at the paint chipped door.

“Angelo, there was nothing out of ordinary within the interaction, I insist.” Recalling the very last moments with Violet before being very rudely interrupted, all I’s were dotted and all T’s were crossed. Donatello knew Violet like the back of his hand. The way she tugged on a strand of hair near her face when she was nervous, the way she scowled when gave her attitude, there was a certain guffaw she did that was reserved only for Usagi’s memes- Donatello knew there was not a single thing out of place during that interaction. Not an eyebrow raise, a twitch of a finger or tilt of her head to indicate anything out of place when he said the dreaded phase that’s gotten Michelangelo up in arms.

“You can’t seriously believe that Dee! You asked her out! Like on a date.” The orange terrapin sat in a rolling chair across from him using it to spin in circles.

Donatello sighs, “Yes, a date. A hang out, an outing, an activity, to fraternize, to ‘kill time’, to socialize- Mikey, there are many different names that are associated with ‘a date’. I merely asked my friend to go to Albearto’s with me, to spend time together. There isn’t a need to read into this as deeply as you have.”

“Wait, is this the same ‘friend’ you were feeling guilty over? I knew you had a crush on them! Have you told them the truth?”

“I do not have a ‘crush’, I’m not a prepubescent turtle. I was in the middle of the reveal but then I was rudely interrupted!” He glares at his brother who shrugs sheepishly “I’m sorry! We really needed you; it was an emergency!”

“Michael, I say this with the utmost confidence that Raph getting his whole fist stuck in his mouth was something that you and Leo could have dealt with on your own.”

“You say that but you were also the one to get his fist unstuck. And we were trying! Really trying! For like, fifteen minutes.” Michelangelo whined then turned into jelly bones in the chair, “Sorry, Dee.”

Donatello waves his hand and furrows his brow, “It’s okay, Angelo. I’ll get another chance at it.”

Michelangelo nods with a smile, “You could always text them now just to get it over with, but I think it’d probably be best in person. It’s kind of a big reveal, yenno?” Donatello nods in agreeance before reaching for a small remote inside a desk drawer.

Michelangelo’s eyes sparkled as he perked up in his seat, “Hell yeah, baby! Fashion show!”

A bookshelf rotated to reveal a seemingly empty large room. Donatello pushes a button on his remote and the floor opens to reveal a stage which emerges from the floor with a metallic pole in the middle that connected itself into the ceiling. The stage is accompanied by multiple revolving clothes rack controlled by a remote. The lights for the stage and clothing rack automatically turn on to provide optimal lighting for impromptu fashion shows.

“Alright, Dee, let’s see what we’re working with!”

Donatello struts up to his stage and reaches for the stripper pole in the middle before swinging himself around, one foot perched and one hand holding on, “We’re playing it casual and comfortable!”

“Boo! Boring! What about this?”

“Fashion is cyclical and while the shoulder landing pads are most definitely in at the very moment, I’m not going as new and improved Dynamite Don.”

“Valid, it’s a bit busy for Albeartos, even though the original Dynamite Don outfit was debuted there. Ok, ok, this?”

Golden flare bell bottoms with a purple floral-patterned shirt, tucked in with the first three buttons undone. Donatello struck a pose, akin to a disco dancer and nodded his head downwards so his shades covered his eyes. “Great choice, I do look fabulous in florals- but not what we’re going for. Maybe a roller-skating slash disco themed date?” He rips the outfit off himself and holds a new top and a bottom on his person, “What about this?”

“So, it is a date?” Michelangelo waggles his brows at him completely ignoring his follow up question.

Donatello pinches the bridge of his nose, “Angelo, ‘a date’ can mean many things as I said earlier. This is closer to a social interaction and gathering of two individuals than a romantic endeavor.” Donatello turns to face himself in the mirror holding up the next outfit choice, a collared shirt paired with a purple pullover sweater and slacks. He struck a pose and shook his head, “Too formal.” He put the fit to the side to hang up later.

“Google would say otherwise.”

“I doubt Google would have anything to say about my exemplary wardrobe.”

His younger brother clears his throat and begins to recite off his phone, “‘What is a date?’, the first answer doesn’t count because it’s ‘the day of the month or year as specified by a number’ but the second result on Google is ‘a social or romantic appointment or engagement.’” Michelangelo puts heavy emphasis on the word ‘romantic’ then turns the phone around so Donatello can read the words himself.

Donatello stumbles over his feet in a dash to get to his younger brother and snatches the phone out of his hand. His eyes scan the Google results page rapidly as his thumb scrolls down the page.

Dating is a stage of romantic relationships in which two individuals engage in an activity together, most often with the intention of evaluating each other's suitability as a partner in a future intimate relationship. It falls into the category of courtship, consisting of social events carried out by the couple either alone or with others.

go out with (someone in whom one is romantically or sexually interested)

Dating is fun and physical intimacy is definitely achievable during those kinds of casual relationships, however in a certified relationship, it is easier to maintain physical and emotional intimacy.

A date is where two people get together to get to know each other, to see if they’re compatible, often with the hopes of getting into a romantic-sexual relationship with each other.

Donatello’s brain goes full blue screen.

Donnie.exe no longer functioning.

“Uh….Dee? Are you feeling ok?” Michelangelo approaches his brother slowly, his hand gripping the phone so tight he was surprised it didn’t snap in half. Donatellos form hunched over and staring intently as his eye followed the text on the screen over and over again.

“Perchance is Dr.Feelings available for an appointment?”

Donatello is sitting stiff as a board in front of a projector that materializes suddenly in the lab. His younger brother suddenly in round frame glasses (they reminded him of Violet, but what didn’t remind him of her these days?) and a mustard-colored turtleneck, he stands next to the projector, the screen reading: ‘Dating for Dum-Dum Turtles 101’.

“Can we skip to the chapter about lying about your physical appearance due to a mystic artifact?”

“Nope! But there’s an easy answer to that and you already know it, which is…” the smaller turtles points to him to finish the answer.

‘To….ignore them for as long as I breathe so I never have to admit that I’ve made a mistake in regards to not being forthcoming about who I am physically because I’m deeply insecure about not only what I look like as a mutant, but also about who I am personally because what if she’s disappointed upon finding out who I am.’

“To tell them the truth.” Donatello settled on this for his answer. Michelangelo nods encouragingly, “Exactly! Didn’t you say your friend already knew everything about you except your physical appearance? I get that it’s scary, especially after all this time, but I’m sure she’ll love you the way you are!”

His heart jumps at the choice words Michelangelo uses, love, has he ever loved anyone that wasn’t family or considered family? Did he even know what that felt like? How is an emotion as visceral as that quantified when everyone had a different meaning for it? He tucked those questions very far away under some mind cabinets to maybe unpack with Dr.Feelings at a different time.

Donatello played it cool and shrugs, looking over his cuticles, “Thanks Angelo, can we move on to ‘Dating for Dum-Dums’?”

Nodding, he changes the slide again, “What I originally wanted to ask was, did you want to take her on a date?”

It’s not that he was adverse by the idea of…. potentially exploring romantic advances toward Violet, it just didn’t seem morally just given the circumstances. Ironically, he was the most morally ambiguous amongst his brothers regarding most things, but Donatello was a generally honest person. He was also aware that starting romantic relations with them while not being forthright was very problematic. April always said he was horrible at lying but here he was, head barely over the water line, drowning in his so-called ‘little white lie’.

Did Violet think he was taking her on a romantic escapade? He’d be offended if that is, in fact, what she thought. He had such better taste than a first date at Albearto’s.

Donatello chewed at his bottom lip, “No, I don’t want to take her on a date.” Speaking it out loud felt like a lie.

“Okay, so you don’t have feelings for her?”

“….No…?”

Michelangelo facepalms and sighs, “Okay. I’m not going to meddle with that big brain of yours because I know what you’re like when you’re in denial and there probably isn’t anything I can say to change your mind.”

“Denial!?” his hands grip the side of the armchair he’s in. Donatello Hamato was not in denial.

Dr.Feelings pulls at the bottom of the projector screen and lets go letting the screen roll up and into itself and the set up magically disappears. “I know you don’t like being under prepared and whether you want to recognize this is a romantic-date or not is on you, but what I suggest is that you get her flowers! That way you’re prepared for any circumstance! If anything, she’ll perceive it as a nice gesture from a friend.”

Were ‘friend bouquets’ a real concept? There were instances where friends would send each other flowers, but normally for special occasions.

“You are right, I do like being prepared for any and all circumstances.” He mused thoughtfully, he could take a visit to his greenhouse and pick out a personalized arrangement just for them.

“Perfect, I’ll pick out your outfit for tonight and you go make an arrangement for her. You need to leave,” Michelangelo looks at his empty wrist, “in an hour.”

Donatello bolts out of the lab to leave Michael with his selection of fine clothing for any occasion. The doors to his greenhouse were attached to his lab, the doors making a whoosh sound as they open then closed behind him once he fully entered.

The greenhouse was Donatello’s safe space, his brothers knew not to come in here (unless explicitly invited) and he often lost himself in tilling and pruning when he needed a moment away. He didn’t use the space for fresh produce and mostly focused on flowers, shrubs, and fruit trees.

He took a gander checking the temperatures for the day, adjusted a few and moved around a few grow lights to optimize space and growth for a few of his lemon trees before moving onto rows and rows of flowers organized by annual versus perennials, where they were in growth, hybrids (flowers he’d grafted together) size and temperature needed to thrive.

Picking up shears he gravitated towards the Asters, a perennial flowering plants in the family Asteraceae. He gently thumbed over the thin purple petals and cut a few of the stems at an angle before setting them aside. Dainty blue flowers catch his eye next, Forget-Me-Not’s, genus of flowering plants in the family Boraginaceae, he takes extra care into handling and setting them down the flower so much smaller than his hands. Followed up with a larger white petaled flower with a yellow centre, Gardenias, genus of flowering plants in the coffee family, Rubiaceae. Flower language could vary widely, but he knew the most common iterations of it for most, if not all, of the specimens he carried in the greenhouse.

Asters, love and patience.

Forget-Me-Nots, fidelity and loyalty in a relationship, despite challenges. (He pretends to not know that the classic tiny blue flower also represented ‘growing affection between two people’.)

Gardenias, Trust, respect and clarity. (He also pretends to not know that the alternative meaning is ‘secret crush’. He has his emotionally unavailable bad boy image to uphold.)

He barely had to think about the flowers he wanted in the arrangement. Donatello added in a few leafy steams to fill it out, placed it perfectly in the middle of a brown papered square, bundled it then tied it off with a purple ribbon. He holds the bouquet at an arms length and gingerly inspects his work looking for imperfections- the bouquet had to be perfect. It wasn’t the prettiest arrangement he’s put together given the variance in shapes and colors, but it would have to do. What did April tell him? It’s the thought that counts? He nods as he recounts the memory, he liked being calculated. He brings the flowers to his chest careful to not squish any and makes his way out of the greenhouse.

“Donnie! I thought you’d gotten lost,” his little brother jokes and lays out an outfit on the desk, “Here, you have to dress for the occasion.”

Donatello sets the arrangement down on a chair and rubs the fabric of the button down between his fingers, “Thank you Mikey, I shan’t ruin tonight!”

There’s a hand on his wrist to halt him as he picks up the button down, “You know, I think you owe me, Dee. I’ve been helping you out with this mystery person….and I think I deserve to know my new best friends name that I have yet to meet, but will be meeting soon.”

Donatello rolls his eyes; he supposed his brother did deserve to know. “Violet.”

“Violet,” Michelangelo softly repeats, “Oooo, I can’t wait to meet her! Dee, you gotta bring them around when you’ve told her the truth!” He claps excitedly and throws himself onto his older brother to engulf him in a hug, “I’m so glad you found someone.”

Donatello chokes on his spit in the most inelegant way, “Mikey, she’s just a friend.” He shrugs him off and puts his focus towards the clothes laid out in front of him as his younger brother giggles around him.

“A ‘just a friend’ that you made a personalized bouquet for?” He wiggled his brows suggestively. The purple terrapins’ cheeks glow, “You’ve been banned from the lab starting now.” Mechanical arms pop out of his battle shell to hoist him up and carry him towards the door.

“Have fun on your date, I’ll keep Raph busy, hurry up and sneak through the garage,” his voice sounds far away before he yells out, “Love you, Dee!” The mechanical doors whoosh shut and Donatello makes quick work of clipping the brooch on, getting dressed in slacks, a button down (the top three buttons undone to be scandalous, a tip he learned from Warren Stone) and a coat. He does a double take at his mask, wraps and tech bo before shrugging, ‘they’ll be safe in the lab’, he didn’t need them tonight.

He checks the clock, ‘perfect timing’, and hustles towards the garage and zips away before anyone can notice.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, the sensation no longer unfamiliar considering how often he was in his brooch form. Given all the video chats and in person time he has with Violet, he’d argue that he actively wore his brooch around fifty percent of the time. He’s never gotten so much use out of the mystic artifact.

The car slows to a step as he parks next to the curb in front of her apartment. Anxiety crept up his spine and made itself home in his throat.

Inhale, exhale.

He steadied his breathing then squeezed his fists together tightly to help ground him. There was barely a reason to be nervous, even though he had yet to decide if he was going with tonights ‘date’. Donatello’s stares at the flowers gently set down with car in the passenger seat. He could just put them in the trunk and forget about them, pretend they didn’t exist.

He sighs, that didn’t feel right.

He checks the digital clock in the car, T-minus three minutes to pick up. He had three minutes to decide where he was going with this. Frustration threatens to boil over as he smacks the steering wheel, “Okay, if she doesn’t ask, it’s not a date- easy! We will be just two people ‘hanging out’.”

“But if she does ask…..pull over, do the reveal? And then say yes?”

He tapped into his tech gauntlet and ran his Genuis Built, trademark pending, dialogue simulator, typed into it and waited for the results. The gauntlet glows purple and holographic results begin to filter through for every possible way the conversation could go.

Donatello scowls as he reaches the end of the page, it was a 50/50 chance that Violet would get upset about him omitting the truth, the alternate being she wouldn’t be upset at all, albeit surprised. That didn’t help him at all! That gave him even less to work with given the percentage chance of them getting mad, and never forgiving him effectively erasing her from his life. It could swing either way and it was too risky to do the reveal now before Albeartos. Pulling down the visor in the front seat he fluffs his hair out with a hand then gives himself a once over in the small mirror.

He steels himself, cursing under his breath he presses the ‘call’ button to alert Violet of his presence. It goes to voicemail and he pockets the phone. Donatello exits the vehicle with bouquet in hand and leans against the passenger door facing the apartment building.

The tight feeling in his chest returns tenfold but he doesn’t have time to log it on his spreadsheet before Violet flounces downstairs, a bounce to her step as she nears him. She looked as close to perfection as humanly possible. Violet stops in front of him, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocks on the balls of her feet, “Lookit you, wow!” she tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear, the same thing she did when she first met him at the coffee shop, “You look amazing, Don. Maybe a bit over dressed for an amusement park?” She winks then giggles with a doe eyed look. Her pupils dilate as she holds his eye contact, a physical tell of the oxytocin and dopamine, the ‘love hormones’, running through her system. The disguised turtle is stunned into silence at his friends flushed cheeks and pushes the bouquet into her hands. He catalogues the way her face is framed by flowers he picked for her and squirrels it away to look at later.

‘Say something. Anything!’

“Michael insisted I dress for the occasion.”

‘Oh gods, anything but that!’

Donatello catches a slight quirk to her brow out of curiosity then rapidly bends at the waist hiding a wince, “After you!” He felt like he was going to combust. If he wasn’t careful steam would go flying out of his ears and nose at his own blunder.

“So, ‘for the occasion’, huh?” Violet has a leading tone to her voice but avoids his gaze. The bouquet resting on its rightful owners’ lap as she fingers the ribbon holding the arrangement together. He almost misses the way she tugs on a lock of hair as he pulls the seatbelt taut over himself.

This was it. He was never so unprepared in his entire life; he would like to think he was better than this but the way his mind went blank as everything around him constricted said otherwise. Donatello set his mouth in a thin line and started to slow the car down to park it, he would tell her now even if he wasn’t ready to lose his best friend.

“Just kidding! I know we’re just going as friends, relax.”

“Right!” he chimes in mechanically, “You and me? A couple?” a forced laugh rips from his throat, “What a laughable notion.” Saving face never hurt so bad before.

Perfect. Having Violet confirm they were only friends took the pressure off him immensely. This is exactly what he wanted, so why was it so hard for him to breath. He even admitted to Mikey that he didn’t want to go on a date with them. He felt his tech gauntlet vibrate against his arm, most likely to tell him he’s lightheaded and to take his blood pressure.

“That’s me, a joker! Super hilarious.” Violet says steadily, keeping herself occupied as she looks out the window.

Deep breaths, nothing could possibly go wrong after this. Everything was sorted (mostly) and tonight would be like any other time he’d been with Violet. It would be easy smiles and banter the rest of the night.

Donatello reaches for the volume button on the dashboard and turns the volume up slightly, the silence in the car beginning to feel like suffocation.

“Gigachad Theme – Phonk House Version? Exquisite taste, good sir.” Violet remarks playfully. The thrum of the bass washes over them both, it was an instrumental piece he often put on in the background when tinkering and even had it on ambiently while playing Minecraft.

“I’m not a fan of the song title being ‘Gigachad’ but it is a groovy beat. The beat is addictive.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve had a nightcore phase.”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut then.”

She laughs, and Donatello loosens the grip on the steering wheel for the first time since he’s started driving. He turns his head to smile at his companion, relieved at the mood turning around. Violet averts her gaze quickly as the traffic light turns green and he starts driving again. The knot in his stomach was slowly leaving him the closer he got to Albeartos.

“I’m a musical theatre connoisseur.” He pitches to bring back the conversation.

“You? Donatello ‘knows all the words to Hamilton’ Hamato? Who would’ve thought.” Violet jokes as he pulls into a parking spot. Donatello hurriedly steps out of the car to open the door for her and as he reaches for the handle, she lets herself out of the vehicle. “It’s not a date, Don. No need to play the part.” The pat on his shoulder burns like rejection and all he can do is nod as he follows her to the entrance to Albeartos.

“Okay, well where do we start?” Violet twirls, her hair whipping around her face, she adjusts her curly hair, so they don’t get stuck on her glasses frames. This was going to be the best not-date he’d ever taken anyone on. Violet’s friends would be so jealous to hear about it afterwards.

“Based on our previous conversation, you’re the one who seems to love amusement parks. I figured this would be best suited for your discretion!” he folds at the waist and outstretches his arm in grandeur, as if to offer the whole park to her. He banishes the thought of offering the world on a silver platter to her if she’d only ask.

“Letting me take the wheel, huh? Alright! Rides first!” Violets hands nearly brush against his palms before wrapping around his wrist to pull him along.

There was a system to the madness, his Violet was so clever, they started off with the most intense rides, only taking small breaks in between for some sips of water to avoid any ‘TummyTello’ incidents. He begrudgingly had to indulge her in a less exaggerated ‘TummyTello’ story to get her off his back about needing smaller breaks in between rides as his stomach was doing somersaults in between the low gravity and merely glancing at his friend (more data for the spreadsheet). Donatello didn’t have much of a sweet tooth but did indulge in sharing some popcorn in line, their fingers brushing against each other occasionally sending a shock to his senses. Violet catches herself on the bars after one of the more extreme coasters, her cheeks flushed, and the sound of her laugh causes him to break into a grin himself as he watches her adjust her glasses before reaching for him to ground herself as she leaves the steel bars.

He stares at Violet fondly and adjusts her grip to his bicep to keep moving, “Are the animatronics ruining it for you yet?”

Violet shakes her head before giving his bicep a light squeeze, “Nah, the animatronics I guess give the park a bit of flare. I think it’s time for some churros though! You promised.”

Donatello’s eyes catch something off in the distance on a coaster across the way. He glances at Violet to ensure she isn’t paying attention and turns back around to look harder at the coaster, squinting his eyes. He wished he had his goggles with him to see farther away. Holding in a groan he recognizes the mechanical bug wings and flat top fade. It was the fake Youtuber and wannabe Twitch streamer, Baxter Stockboy, online alias Stockboii. Whatever he’s up to, it isn’t good.

Turning his attention back to Violet, he moves slightly to obscure her vision, “Churros! That’s right, absolutely. I’ll go get them for us!”

“Sure thing, bud. You alright?”

“Yes! I am simply ecstatic to retrieve a churro. The churro I promised to get you.” Hands on her shoulders, he spins her around and gently pushes her in the opposite direction, “You’ll have to wait all the way over here though, okay?” he gives her a pat, pat and then a firm squeeze to her shoulders, “And face this way! There’s a lovely view of the pier!” risking a glance he notices Baxter attach himself to the tracks, “I’ll be right back!”

Violet tries to turn her head to face him and, in an effort, to stop her from catching on, his hands find both sides of her head and rights her to look forward. Donatello’s face is dangerously close to hers, the smell of vanilla clouding his senses as he lowers his voice, “You don’t want to miss the pretty lights at the pier, right?”

She stiffens as her breath catches in her throat and nods.

Spirits, he’d do that to her forever if it meant getting that reaction.

Donatello takes a few walking steps while watching over his shoulder to ensure Violet doesn’t turn around, then moves into a light jog and starts scanning the area for a bathroom or a booth to hide behind.

‘Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom, c’mon….bathroom!’

“Yes!” he exclaims and makes a dive to reach the door before someone else does, “Occupado!” Donatello slams the door in front of the next person in line, “My sincerest apologies! I’d recommend using a different bathroom.” He listens to the disgruntled person slam on the door and take their leave.

All he needed was ten minutes to sort this and get back to Violet.

7:00pm, Grimacing at the tiles of the public bathroom he delicately strips out of his slack being very careful to ensure none of it touches the floor. He hangs them over a stall door and makes quick work out of his button up before hanging it over the door as well leaving him in his compression shorts and socks and shoes. Pulling his feet out he takes his socks off and steps on his shoes before taking the brooch off.

Reprimanding himself for being grossly underprepared for something like this to happen as he was sans mask, goggles, wrappings and tech-bo currently, but not for long as he uses his gauntlet to summon his battle shell. He luckily had back ups stored in something akin to safe houses around New York for emergencies. He shoves the brooch in his pants pocket and steps outside the bathroom, luckily no one is outside. By some miracle he finds a spare ‘closed for maintenance’ sign nearby and he sticks it on the door.

Hearing the telltale whir of his battle shell, he leaps up in the air as it attaches itself to his soft shell. A spare tech-bo sprouts out of a smaller compartment along with a mask with already drawn on brows.

7:03pm, opening his tech gauntlet he goes through his contacts as he makes his way towards the coaster. The first five people that pop up are his brothers and April, he decides against this, he didn’t have time to entertain or create a congruent story, even with Mikeys help, to why he was here ‘by himself’. He scrolls further down quickly to the Joneses’ and rings Junior instead.

“Pick up, pick up.”

“Donatello?”

“Junior!” the relief he feels when he picks up on the first ring is almost enough to forget the stress he’s under.

“What’s up? You don’t normally call me.”

“Baxter Stockboy is interfering with one of the coasters at Albeartos, how fast can you get here?”

“Five minutes, but why did you call me? I’m sure Leo can make a portal and get there immediately to help.” There’s shuffling on Casey’s end of the call signaling Donatello that he’s getting ready anyways to come out.

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite nephew slash friend slash family member who is capable of keeping a secret and who travelled back in time to save the world?”

“…No..but thank you? What’s the secret?”

“I’m accompanying a friend here on a casual excursion and I’d rather not let my brothers know.”

“Master Donatello, are you on a date?” The suggestive tone to his voice is hard to miss and he facepalms.

“You have three minutes left to get here, it’s the coaster at the far end of the park, not near the pier, the other direction. I’ll apprehend Stockboy and you take him to the station for me. Don’t tell my brothers.”

“Already on the way!”

“You’re the best, Junior!”

There’s a crowd gathering around the coaster as Baxter seems to be hovering over the tracks dismantling portions of it. The workers try their best to disperse the crowd and evacuate the ride as his battle shell whirs to life lifting him up face Stockboy.

“Stockboy.”

Donatello’s mechanical arms spring forth and grab Stockboys wings and pulls him off the coaster. His other two mechanical arms start to piece together the tracks at rapid speed.

“My rival! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?! I’m going to film the greatest clickbait video you’ve ever seen! I’ll hit a million views on Youtube!” Baxter wriggles to get lose with no avail, “It’ll be called ‘not clickbait: crazy rollercoaster goes off the tracks’!” his hands move farther apart from one another as he says the title.

The last bolt goes in and Donatello quickly descends and looks for Casey in the crowd. “While I most definitely would love to school you on the way algorithm and clickbait works, I do not have the time nor the energy. Insert clever monologue here.” Baxter clutches at his chest and gasps for air in dramatic fanfare as he’s lowered directly into Casey’s grip.

Catching Casey in the crowd he dives directly to him, Baxter swinging in the wind being held by the wings by his mech arm.

“I got it from here, Donatello. Go on and enjoy your date!” Casey dismantles Baxter’s wings and cuffs his wrists behind his back.

“Not a date! And consider your hockey stick upgraded by next week, Junior!” Donatello speeds off to the bathroom and flings himself into the stall.

7:08pm, he had two minutes left.

Exiting the building he ensures the signage remains outside and uses a lockpick to lock the doors just as a precaution and to keep his battle shell safe while in his brooch form.

7:10pm, ‘right on time’, rounding the corner he deftly weaves through the crowds and slows his steps down to maintain the air of ease. Running a hand through his hair to tussle he speaks up, “I’m back, my sincerest apology for the intermission on our evening.” Donatello feels the slight flush up his neck and cheeks.

“Did you eat the churro on the way back, or?”

“The churro!” he exclaims, “I knew I was forgetting something.” How could he forget the one thing he was meant to retrieve!? Even if Stockboy served as a mid evening distraction, he should’ve known better. It was one of two conditions that needed to be met in order for Violet to go to Albeartos’ in the first place. Internally he scolded himself to be more mindful of the requirements set for a successful evening.

He counts himself lucky as Violet waves him off dismissively, “Hey, it’s not problem. Were you having like a, TummyTello moment?”

His face burns with embarrassment, “Yes. I was most definitely having a TummyTello moment, I was using the…. lavatory and just…. forgot.” He wanted the ground to swallow him whole, maybe Stockboy could dismantle the ride with him on it so he’d plummet to his death.

The lightness of Violet’s laugh brings him back, “Gross, I hope you washed your hands after. All good, lets just go get a churro now.”

Violet stops abruptly and reaches into her fanny pack, “Here, it’s an Imodium.” She presses the tiny white pill into his palm, “It’ll help so you don’t have any more TummyTello moments. Happens to the best of us.” Nodding dutifully, he thanks her and takes a swig of water pretending to take the pill before tossing it discreetly over his shoulder as Violet makes her way to the nearest churro booth.

“It’s ok Don, when we need to go, we need to go! I’m not judging you.” A mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she teases him.

“That’s enough.”

“Donnie,” she turns to face him and uses her hands to make a funnel around her mouth as if to whisper something, Donatello leans much farther forward than he needs to meet her face, “everybody poops, it’s okay, buddy.”

“I am begging you to release me from the chains of my mortal body.”

Violet bursts into giggles while leaning her weight into the space unoccupied where his arm and body meets. Was she always this warm? Warmth flows from his chest up to his neck as his hand hesitantly finds purchase by her waist. Had she always fit so nicely into his arms? This is casual, he reminds himself. Friends did indulge in physical affection; he can’t count the number of times he and April cuddled. Even himself and Cassandra had shared an occasional cuddle, their shoulder pressed against each other during a movie marathon or while reading comics. There’s a distinct mood change as Violet sighs and pulls away, his hand now cold and a bitter taste in his mouth he ignored from the rejection.

After a short wait, Donatello says a quick ‘thank you’ and hands his friend the sugary snack. Violet lights up and squeals before taking a first bite, “Thanks, Don!” He returns her thanks with a smile, mentally checking off ‘Acquire Churro’ in his mental list. One out of two done. A bit of a hiccup with Stockboy, but he was back on track and nothing else could possibly ruin this….excursion. Donatello only needed to complete one more task, winning a carnival prize, to ensure victory for the best not-date slash friend-excursion Violet ever had.

“Bite.” She offers the stick to him and he plays into his disinterest to earn a pout and a glare before encasing her hand gently with his own to steady it before taking a smaller bite. Violet’s hands were small compared to his human ones; he could barely imagine how petite they’d be against his mutant ones. The thought alone makes him bite down on his lip to conceal a groan while a flush dances up his neck. He does a double take at his own reaction and stamps that down quickly. Friends didn’t think about other friends like that, he’d have to reference the friendship to romantic interest pipeline later to confirm.

“The sugar granules sticking to everything really makes this a treat.” He busies himself looking anywhere but Violet and willing his mind to clear itself.

“Oh, fuck off, more for me then! Wouldn’t want you to have another TummyTello moment anyways.” His brain is still rebooting and fails to produce a witty remark.

Gathering his wits, he trails after you to a standing table occupied by none other than Foot Brute and Foot Lieutenant, sharing…. a candy apple and a soda? Immediately his senses are sharpened as he takes in his surroundings and the nearest exist as well as the restroom he had used for his battle shell if needed.

“C’mere. There’s some room.” A hand pulls his sleeve to place him beside her and he makes an effort to set himself between her and the table instead, his gaze not leaving the two Foot clan members. Violet furrows her brows trying to catch why there was such a distinct shift in his mood but finds nothing. Who does he call if it goes south? Mikey? He already knew where he was and it’d be an easy cover if Raph or Leo found out. Call Casey again? He’d most likely be close by and would most likely have his hands free if he passed Stockboy off to someone else.

In his peripheral he sees the churro and takes a bite wordlessly while glaring, the two didn’t seem to recognize him (why would they?), and he wasn’t the most intimidating either as his human self but he was steadfast. Feeling a jab in his ribs he shifts his attention to his counterpart, “Dude. Knock it off. Sorry about him, he has no manners!” Violet scowls at him before laughing sheepishly to cover up for his ‘poor manners’. Foot Lieutenant quirks an eyebrow at him before taking a bite of his apple slice menacingly.

Donatello puts an arm protectively around Violet’s shoulder without breaking his gaze, “Lets pick another table.”

“Donatello!” Violet scolds him and it feels like his knuckles have been thwacked with a ruler. His grip loosens but doesn’t leave, he tries a different way to prompt an escape by pushing into Violet to get her to walk. Violet angerly shrugs his hand off her shoulder and glares up at him with a fire in her eyes, “It’s fine! You’re worked up over nothing.”

Foot Brute shrugs nonchalantly, “We look a lil funny, we get it.” He wants to scoff, as if they didn’t nearly cause the end of the world a few years back. He bites his tongue so he doesn’t chime in with a ‘yeah, you do!’ to upset Violet further. Foot Lieutenant pipes up, “Yes, we’re an odd sight to see indeed.” He waves his hand in the air dismissively and continues eating.

“There are weirder things in New York.” Violet responds politely with a smile.

Discreetly, Donatello pulls his phone from his pocket and opens a text thread to Michelangelo.

‘Foot Brute and Foot Lieutenant @ Albeartos. Churro booth, west side, by pirate ship. ASAP. No shell. Brooch on.’

‘OTW, hang tight!’

The cold shoulder and blatant dismissal of his concern makes him flustered with anger more than it stings with rejection. Did she not trust him?

He scowls and keeps his eye out for Michael, his body still in front of hers but turned away with his arms over his chest. There’s light conversation at the table he doesn’t pay attention to.

His acts on instinct.

“Don’t touch her.” He latches onto the offending wrist so tight his knuckles turn white. His thoughts spiral, Violet was going to get hurt, if he let his guard down for a moment longer, she would’ve gotten hurt. His chest is tight and he wills his breathing to even out and taking slower breaths lest he gasp for air. How dare this cretin who was almost responsible for the apocalypse reach for his Violet? How dare he, how dare he, how dare he-

“Donnie!”

He’s brought back to reality; his grip loosens immediately at her voice. Liquid drips off the table and churro long forgotten on the ground. “Violet, I-“ Frantically he reaches for spare napkins on the table realizing the mess he’s gotten himself into.

“Save it, Don.” The napkins are snatched out of his hands and he curls in on himself, dejected. Your hands touch briefly but it isn’t warm this time. “Apologize to them if you’re going to apologize to anyone.” Violet didn’t understand, they were going to harm her. That’s what the Foot Clan did, they harmed. She didn’t know what they were capable of, what they’d done. If he could just explain himself-

“I’ll be right back.” Violet glares icily in his direction, pools of hazel brimming with tears.

Violet disappears from view and a flash of orange and red make their appearance. He knew his brothers ninpos like the back of his hand. There’s no time to dawdle, reflect on his thoughts or chase after his friend.

The youngest brother swoops down beside him and Donatello makes a b-line to the washroom he’d used last, fingers already working on his buttons. He’d help his brothers to take the Foot down and then run after Violet. There was only two of them, so it’d be quick.

He changes into his gear, pockets his brooch on his person for easy access before storming out of the bathroom and catching up to Raphael and Michelangelo.

“Why’d you bring Raph?” whispering through his teeth to the orange terrapin.

“Sorry, Dee! He caught me sneaking out and came with. I said you were taking a ‘self care day’.”

Foot Brute and Lieutenant raise their hands palms facing up, “We can’t have a single day off without you turtles harassing us?”

“Day off? Crime doesn’t take a day off!” Raphael does a Superman pose.

“Why aren’t you in uniform?” Michelangelo interjects and points at their winter clothes.

“We’re doing a staycation!”

Donatello checks the time on his tech gauntlet, “You don’t expect us to seriously believe that do you?”

Raph scratches his chin uncertainly, “Well, they are bundled up in regular clothes. Maybe they’re telling the truth?”

Michelangelo lowers his weapon, “Dee…”

Donatello scoffs, he didn’t just “ruin” the entire evening for two criminals on a ‘staycation’. “Even if they were on a ‘staycation’,” he makes air quotes, “they had rudely interrupted my da-“ Michelangelos’ hand slaps over his mouth, the words hanging in the air.

“Interrupted his day!” Michelangelo covers for him. “Remember? I told you Raph, he’s having a self care day. His day has been ruined.” Donatello nods tight lipped. Spirits, he was so stupid. The eldest brother nods slowly and shrugs then turns back around, “We can’t fight them over nothing though, they haven’t technically done anything.”

Foot Lieutenant moves around the table slowly with his hands up, “Are we good to go, folks? You heard the big guy we haven’t done anything.”

Raphael eyes them cautiously but side steps to let them pass, Michelangelo following suit casting a furrowed browed look at Donatello. Donatello clenches his fists as he begrudgingly side-steps, but not fast enough as Lieutenant trips over a table leg and stumbles into him before righting himself and walking off with Foot Brute in tow.

Donatello lets a ‘tsk’ fall from his lips as he glares holes into the pair walking away. All this trouble for what? For nothing? He wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He must look crestfallen since a large hand rests itself on his shoulder, “Don’t worry Donnie! Your self care day isn’t ruined with us around! Let Miguel and Rapharoni take care of ya!”

He needed to find Violet.

Michelangelo is on it before Donatello even needs to spare him a glance, “Raph, a self care day is usually done by yourself! Dr.Feelings prescribed it. I’m sure Donnie-boy can continue on with his day in peace.”

Raphael strokes his chin thoughtfully, “You sure you don’t want us to stick around?”

Donatello’s already making steps away from them, “Ah, yeah I think so Raph.” His hand makes a move for his pants pocket and feels the flat expanse of his thigh instead of a telltale feeling of the brooch underneath fabric. Immediately his eyes are searching for the perpetrators frantically as he pats himself down to ensure he didn’t just place the brooch in a different area. “Mikey, they took my cloaking brooch.” He feels as though his head been dunked under ice water. Raphael’s voice is warbly and he can’t make out quite what he’s saying.

“Mikey, I need the brooch. They must’ve grabbed it when they bumped into me. We have to get it back, I can’t- Violet, she-“

Donatello feels Raphael’s squeeze around him firmly while dragging his hands along his battle shell, “I don’t know what’s going on, but Raph’s got you, ‘right? We’ll get it back.” Donatello presses his snout against the comforting presence of his brother and inhales deeply, feeling himself relax head to toe.

Michelangelo’s gives an affectionate head bump and nuzzles his snout into his forehead, “We got you, Dee.”

Inhale. Exhale.

His family has him.

Raphael slowly releases his arms around the smaller frame, “Okay, we know they went vaguely that way, so they can’t be far. Mad Dogz, lets roll out and get that brooch!”

If he was in a better frame of mind, he’d let the warm fuzzies wash over him. However, right now, he doesn’t let that distract him. Checking his tech gauntlet, 7:50pm, which meant it had roughly been ten minutes since Violet stormed off. If she was cleaning herself off, it probably gave them another ten, fifteen at most, to get the brooch, change and then meet her back here at this table.

The three of them split up, Donatello taking an aerial approach, scouring the nearby areas. Pulling his goggles down he let them do the work to finding the culprits.

“Gottem!” Michelangelo’s voice rings in his ears, his voice projecting from an internal speaker attached to his goggles. His tech gauntlet glows to life, and he follows the moving dot on the interface to his brother. He zips down and joins the fray with his brothers.

Golden chains whiz by him and encircle Lieutenant of the pair while Raphael battles Foot Brute off to the side, his sais equipped and swinging. Lieutenant manages to origami and summon a few origami foot ninjas that all pounce towards Donatello at alarming speeds. Goggles still equipped he lets his scanners run over Lieutenant to pick out the mystic energy of his brooch and his screen hones in on his front pocket in his coat. Found it.

Deftly he moves from one foot to the other dodging the ninjas dust kicking up from every step as he approaches the struggling Lieutenant in Michelangelo’s chains. His hand reaches forward and grazes the fabric of the jacket, and he goes flying as a large body collides with his side throwing him a few feet from the action as he tumble rolls in the ground.

Donatello coughs as his battle shell takes most of the brunt landing on his back then glares at Raphael who’s already spewing sheepish apologies while he strides over to come help him to his feet. Using his tech-bo he swipes at Foot Brute to launch him farther from him and Raphael helps him up.

“Donnie, catch!”

His hand flies up and he grasps around the tiny artifact with a grin, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Flappy hands ensue for only a moment before he faces his oldest brother, “I’m guessing you guys got this?”

Raphael salutes, “We got it, Donnie.” A comforting hand on his shoulder, “And whenever you’re ready, Raph is ready to listen. We’ll keep this a secret for now.” He winks with his signature snaggle toothed grin and Donatello isn’t sure what he did in his past life to deserve his brothers in this life.

Donatello knocks his head against Raphael’s and tosses an up-nod to Michelangelo and darts off tripping over his feet on his way to the bathroom for what felt like the hundredth time.

8:20pm, he slams the door behind him and curses his luck for tonight. He chants a mantra of ‘don’t panic’ in his head as he pulls his legs through leg holes and arms through sleeves along with everything else then bypassing a mirror and running out.

Violet is oh so conveniently not by the churro stand he curses under his breath as he runs down the path to the exit, weaving through the thinning crowd. He wished he had his goggles and battle shell equipped to fly; it would be so much easier.

He sees curly hair and an oversized coat in a purposeful stride to the exit and the anxiety comes back full force. “Wait! Letty!”

He knows that she hears him as she stops abruptly and turns around to face him with her shoulder back and her chin held high with glossy eyes and a scowl, “What is it now, Donatello? You ditch me and-“ her breathing is ragged as she stops mid-sentence and gestures wildly at him. His hand flies to his chest, no, the brooch is on. That’s not what she’s staring at. “What the fuck is going on!?” She all but shrieks at him.

He looks down and does a double take as the humiliation hits him like a truck. It sinks into his skin and holds him his chest and throat in a vice. Shirt rumpled, inside out and with the buttons were mismatched to the wrong hole which led to the bottom of his shirt being wildly uneven. His pants equipped but backwards. He remembered his socks, but not his shoes. Of course, he remembers the socks. But not the shoes. Mutant turtles did not wear shoes.

“Ha ha, I can totally explain this!”

He can totally explain this.

His hand is still hovering over his chest, all he needs to do is pull the brooch off.

Violet stares holes into him and waits for his explanation.

The Violet of his mind yells at him for lying and he never hears from her again, and so his hand finds his buttons to fumble with instead to buy him time. “Okay, listen. I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while and-“

“And?”

Just like it did the other night, his tech gauntlet glows underneath his sleeve and he knows she can see it to. He catches the slight exhale she does as she tries not to deflate, and he tries to start over but his phone buzzes in his now front pocket.

He opens his mouth to start over but closes it as his phone starts to ring. His brothers needed him. They wouldn’t call him if they didn’t.

Was it too much of an assumption to think Violet needed him too? Wanted him? Even as a mutant turtle? Was it too far-fetched? Was the danger associated with his hero duties ‘too much’ for Violet? Was it safer for her if they just parted ways here instead?

The thought makes him breathless, and he decides he can’t bare with that idea. He needed her too.

He memorizes the way his favorite strand of curly hair fell between her eyes, the way she always needed to brush it out of the way because it was too long and a nuisance to you, but you also never wanted to cut. The soft curve of the apple of her cheeks and the arch of her cupids bow when she smiles for him. The scent of lilacs and vanilla swarmed him, encircled and held him close. Her gaze was hardened and targeted at him, but Spirits, her eyes were his favorite. They reminded him of lightning, even as they shone with unshed tears (that he caused, and it makes him ill to think about too long). He liked to think he could recognize her gaze anywhere.

“I’m really sorry, I have to take this.” He hopes she can hear the regret laced in his tone as he sprints in the other direction.

The Violet of his mind smiles at him and tells him to go, says that she’ll wait for him and that it’s okay with a wave and a lighthearted grin.

Not bothering with undressing his backwards pants (the texture was driving him insane now they he knew the seams were all wrong), he pulls the brooch off and summons his battle shell, equips his goggles and abandons his shirt on the way and quickly reaches his brothers and unleashes the rage.

The Foot had called for reinforcements in the time he’d gone and come back. He assisted with the fight, clearing his mind of everything but using his skills to ensure his and his brothers’ safety. Zipping around the battlefield he shares space with Michelangelo who swings a foot ninja in the sky for Raphael to smack down mid-air.

“Didn’t go too well, huh?”

Donatello hated how easy he was to read.

He dodges and flips a ninja over his shoulder, “I think that’s the understatement of the century.”

“It’ll work itself out, Dee!” Ah. The optimist of the family. “You just gotta hope!”

Donatello rolls his eyes so far back into his head he’s surprised he still has the ability to see once he’s blinked.

Raphael sends Foot Brute into a nearby stand, stuffed toys that were meant for prizes scatter amongst the ground, a stuffed corduroy frog with a tiny crown sewn atop his head hits him in the shoulder. “Hope hasn’t failed us yet, Donnie!” He clocks that Raphael really doesn’t know what’s going on but is just as supportive.

“Just win me something at one of those rigged carnival games.”

“You’re a genius, Raph!”

He picks up the stuffed frog with a mechanical arm and it’s tucked safely away in a compartment in his battle shell. He didn’t really win it, but it still counted if he shifted the requirements mildly. Winning against the Foot Clan warranted a prize and the stuffed frog that laid in his mechanical shell was prize enough for him.

Hope.

He could still turn this around.

A grandeur apology, from the heart, with the second half of the requirement. Followed up by the truth.

Donatello effortlessly dodges and parries his way through enemies, and on the third call to Violet she finally picks up.

“What?” Her voice feeds clear in his ears from the goggles. She’s mad. Noted and very reasonable.

“There are not enough words to express how deeply apologetic I am for how tonight went. Let me make it up to you.” From the heart, that part is important. Something Dr.Feelings had told him long ago. The silence on the other end is weighted and he’s mildly distracted as he ducks and uses his tech-bo to block with a grunt.

“….Okay, where are you?” He couldn’t believe that she’d be willing to meet with him still, after everything and the thought makes him feel fuzzy. He’d go up to her in his mutant form, just rip the band aid off.

His attention is needed elsewhere for but a moment and he swings down, his ninpo materializing at the end of his tech-bo in the form of a three-digit hand and slams down on the opposing forces coming closer to Raphael, “Phalange sandwich!”

How many of these stupid little origami ninjas were there!? He felt like he’d been fighting for a lifetime.

“I-….is there… like, a finger sandwich place at Albeartos? Do you want me to turn around and meet you there?”

He facepalms hard forgetting Violet could hear him and yells in frustration to himself, “No!”

“Ok! I won’t turn around then.” She huffs annoyed.

Frustration was building quickly, and he was running out of patience for this, “Er, yes! Turn around! I was…speaking to someone else!” Can’t he do anything right?

“Who’re you talking to? Who else is there?”

There’s a looming presence behind him that takes Donatello by surprise as Foot Lieutenant tries to take a peak at his tech gauntlet over his shoulder while simultaneously throwing a punch he narrowly dodges, “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s none of your business!” He yells and promptly slaps a hand over his mouth realizing his mistake.

“Excuse me!?”

Scratch that, he could not turn this around.

The ringing in his ears is sudden and incessant. Chest constricting uncomfortably, time slows down as he watches his brothers continue to dwindle the Foot Clans numbers, the park guests long gone from the area.

“Listen, if this is your weird way of doubling down that you don’t have feelings for me, this is in crazy bad taste.”

Why was he breathing so fast? The rhythmic thumping in his ears was too loud. Everything was too loud, so why did Violet sound so far away? He’s in an out of focus but he manages to fight the breathlessness for a moment, “No! No, of course not.” What was the question again? Feelings? Bad taste? He can’t remember.

In the peripheral, Foot Lieutenant and Foot Brute tied back-to-back on a large pole to hold them there. Good riddance. The rumble of Raphael’s footsteps is what he grounds himself to first, then Michaels concerned expression comes into view. His tech-bo is gently taken from his hand as he gently shoves Michael backwards, he’s too close. He could barely make out the words Michael was saying to him, their eyes wide and pupils dilated. Raphael’s mouth moves but he can’t hear him either over the thumping in his ears.

“Can you just tell me what’s going on!?” Her voice is clear and concise. She’s upset with him, but he’s thankful as it’s the only voice that brings him out of it.

“Galileo, Newton and the stars above, just shut up for two seconds! I can’t even think!”

Raphaels’ and Michelangelos’ hands retract from him as he catches his breath.

“‘Shut up’? ‘Shut up’!? You literally called me! Fuck you Donatello!”

The line goes dead.

He indistinctly hears Raphael ask what was going on. Asks if he’s okay. Is he? He doesn’t think he is. He needed to get to Violet. Raphael urges gently for him to talk to them. He can’t, words still escape his dry mouth.

His hand hangs limply beside him, tech gauntlet still on the screen for Violet’s contact. Michelangelo’s hand finds his elbow, calloused fingers rub on the inside of his elbow in an attempt to soothe him.

There’s more mumbling and he can’t quite remember how he got to his car, but Michael loads him into the back seat. The younger brother buckles himself in and turns to him, “Raph is just going to take care of the Foot clan guys, okay Donnie?” His voice is soft, the way an adult speaks to a child after a nightmare.

He concludes he must’ve nodded since Michael smiles and adds on, “I’m going to take you home, ok?”

Home.

His mind goes to his lab, then to the couch in the living room, well loved from numerous turtle piles and movie nights. There was a purple beanbag for him with a bundle of fleece blankets folded for him- the perfect texture against his shell. It quickly pans over to the kitchen cabinet where all the teas and coffees are stored. Leo would always go for hibiscus, something sweet for a tea. Raphael liked herbal teas and Michael would drink anything given he could put too much sugar in it. He kept the coffee pods in there, he loved the convenience.

Donatello’s startled at how quickly the visage morphs into coasters placed on top of the fridge, fluffy slippers (just for him) and the sound of a Keurig as background noise paired with the soft citrus smell of a Clementine. The TV is running, there’s a gentle breeze from the balcony door accompanied by the soft yellow glow of fairy lights. There are too many trinkets everywhere, too messy for his taste to leave everything out, but showed that the space was well lived in. Everything is cozy.

His hand brushes against paper and he straightens up, startled out of his thoughts, before glancing down.

Asters, Forget-me-nots and Gardenias. Wrapped in paper and fastened together in a bouquet with a purple ribbon.

His vision is blurry, his eyes glassy but he doesn’t let the tears fall.

He’s never felt so homesick.

TBC

A/N okay, good god this took me AGES to write and mainly because i dont think i characterize donnie very well and it puts me in my head alot. SIGH. but anyways this turned out alright, i suppose. LOL i hope yall enjoy it atleast!

If you read this chapter and the last one back to back, you’ll notice I’ve written the way Letty and Donnie see eachother different. There are portions where in the last chapter it’ll say that Violet chuckles and from Donnies POV, he views it as her giggling. It’s kind of a play on how you see people with rose colored glasses when you have a crush on them lmao. I pepper these in the chapter and I’ve also peppered in the same verbage Letty uses in Donnies POV too to display how they’re vaguely thinking the same things as well.

I’m not sure if anyone has ever been in such much denial with being in-like or in-love with someone but I have and I’m drawing directly from the experience (dw i got there lmao my person and I are together not for two years and counting haha). But being in denial of your feelings the way Donnie is makes him a horrible narrator (thus all the crossed out dialogue he perceives as intrusive thoughts he should not even entertain) and makes him extremely inconsistent in terms of referring to him hanging out with Letty as romantic or not. So I hope that makes sense on why he’s so all over the place. He literally can’t keep it together LMAO I hope Donnie isn’t becoming to repetitive but HES GOING TO RESOLVE IT SOON. You know our boy needs to think really hard.

I’d also like to say Violet is also conflicted in terms of coming clean, but I feel like it doesn’t hit her as hard as she’s practically pretty much always had a soft spot for him. Her reveal also isn’t as “large” in terms of the fact that she physically still has the same face etc and her rose colored glasses just aren’t as pink because she can admit that she does /like/ him. Donnie is literally changing into a completely different person and species whenever he uses his cloak and this ilicits a much larger concern for him. He also can’t quite pin down /why/ he continues to lie (obvi bc he likes her but lmfao hes getting there), which adds onto his stress.

If this “date” had gone well, they would have made the reveal this night but I still want to write these two fucking idiots so I needed to make this horrible for both of them so I can continue to write them. (: LOL

@maribatshipper @goldenpanda16 @moonlightmarauder @samilucas67

#Donnie #tmnt donnie #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donatello #rise donatello x reader #rise donatello x oc #rise donnie x oc #tmnt #rottmnt #the cloaking brooch dilemma tmnt #donnie x oc #donatello x oc

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