#like the amount of inspiration i have 2 turn my back on on a daily basis + THE MUNDANE SHIT I HAVE 2 READ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesullengrrrl · 5 months

Text

We'll Meet Again - Chapter 2

Elaine receives a letter from an old acquaintance.

Author's note: Hello! Thank you for the likes and reblogs and comments for my last post! Here's another chapter for this story and here's the AO3 link if you prefer reading there. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 2: across the universe

RAF Thorpe Abbotts

Late October 1943

Rosie slowly turned the door knob of their barracks. He had spent most of the night in the officers’ club, talking to the men, drinking with them and he did not notice the time. It’s Saturday tomorrow, he justified. At least he could sleep in a bit, even for an hour or two.

As he entered, he struggled to gently close the door to not wake up the others. His head started to feel woozy from the drinks he had and sat down on the nearest chair so that he wouldn’t stumble. He closed his eyes and sighed. He may be tipsy, but he wasn’t ready to turn in. Not yet.

Aligned on the barrack entrance were two tables, one on each side. Rosie’s gaze turned to the other table across him, and there was a small pile of to-be delivered letters on it. He wrote his family and friends a few letters every week to give them updates of his daily life, but never about his missions. The last letters for them were mailed yesterday. Was there a person left to write?

He thought of Mabel, but according to his mother, Mabel already has a sweetheart.

He wondered if Mr. Giggles liked her new man.

A sense of longing for home slowly crept on him. He remembered the good old days that seemed to be a lifetime ago. Him at his family home, his mother greeting him when he got off from work, horsing around with his siblings, the commute from his home to the law firm, the loud music from various jazz clubs he and his co-workers visit, Minty and Minton’s, Elaine…

Elaine. Few days ago, he received a parcel from his family. It consisted of two scarves (one white, one dark blue with pale polka dots), letters from different family members wishing him luck, a letter from Minty, some smushed chocolate bars, and a few photos (it had a small note attached saying, “You might forget our faces!”).

After opening the ones from his family, he opened Minty’s letter for last. As he read the letter, he could smell the faint alcohol and smoked cigars, transporting him back to the last time he was there.

Minty was right, he thought. It was indeed a bloodbath. Sometimes he would feel bad for the mechanics who had to clean the interiors of each plane that lands. Aside from the engine problems and several cosmetic issues with the planes after it had been gunned, they had to see the amount of bullet cases and blood scattered on its floors and walls.

They had to clean away what's left of the dead men.

I also sent a copy of a photo of you and your girl there. The last line of Minty’s letter made him pause. What photo? Which girl? He felt something inside the envelope and pulled it out. It was a photo of him and Elaine, capturing the night they met. They were looking at each other quite intensely, as if the camera caught them in an intimate moment.

His younger self looked serene, almost. As if he had not heard the Pearl Harbor attack hours before this photo was taken.

Elaine was smiling at him.

He turned the photo and saw Minty’s scribble:

Thought you might need extra inspiration. I still have a copy in here, in case your girl comes around. Drinks are on me when I see you two. –M

That photo now resides in his bedside table, tucked inside a copy of Of Mice and Men. One day, the photo slipped from the book and Pappy picked it up. He took a good look at it before Rosie started to reach it from him. His co-pilot did not easily give it up and the two ran around their barracks for two minutes before Pappy gave it up. Few men gave them weird looks—Pappy was laughing while Rosie was glaring at him when they got back inside.

“Why didn’t you tell us you have a girl back in New York?” Pappy asked, his tone teasing. “I have to hear Bailey talk about his wife every damn time and here you are just hiding someone!”

“I’m not hiding her,” Rosie defended as he tucked the photo in one of the pages instead of the usual sleeve. “We’re just friends.”

“And yet I find you looking at that picture at night.”

“Hey! I don't!”

“Sure, Rosie. Sometimes, you look as if you are a war widower when you look at that picture.”

Pappy only chuckled at him and went on his way. Rosie had never been so embarrassed being seen at those vulnerable nights. When he tells Crosby about the whole thing (which includes her French exit), he cannot decipher whether his friend felt bad for him or wanted to laugh at him. Either way, Crosby suggested he write to her, even just to say hello.

Rosie thought it was ridiculous. Why would he write to someone who just left him without saying goodbye personally? What kind of person leaves someone with only a note?

Before he could stop himself, he opened the drawer to get a pen and a clean sheet of paper. Luckily, there was. Opening the night lamp, he uncapped the pen and the words started spilling. He didn't even read what he was writing and just overlined the parts that he felt were wrong to say. It’s late at night, he's slightly bloated with alcohol, and he’s…yes, lonely. He hasn’t heard from the woman for almost two years, he’s most likely not going to hear from her again, so what’s the damage? Nothing!

When he was done, he sealed it, placed some stamps and laid it on the pile of letters to be sent tomorrow.

He let out a sigh of relief. It was cathartic. Maybe he could stop thinking about her.

Tonight, even for tonight, he was able to finally let his feelings down on paper. When he finished, he slowly walked back to his bed to avoid crashing into someone’s bed frame. Without changing his clothes, he laid down and stared at the ceiling. He let himself be lulled by the air and his eyes followed the lines in the ceiling.

Few breaths later, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

—

The next day, he heard the rustle of the next bed’s mattress. He opened one eye and saw Pappy fixing his bed. “What time is it, Pap?”

“Eight. Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Rosie jolted upright and walked to the table near the doors. The small pile of to-be delivered letters were gone.

“The letters here, where is it?”

“Gene got them an hour ago!” Pappy replied loudly across the room. “Why?”

He leaned his head on his hand and groaned audibly. Pappy’s eyebrows furrowed and walked towards him.

“What’s the matter?”

“I think..." Rosie trailed off. "I just sent a letter that I wasn’t supposed to send.”

“Like those unsent letters in your drawer?”

Rosie’s head shot up. “You saw those?”

“I was looking for a pen,” Pappy explained, walking towards him with his arms raised. “Then I opened your drawer and saw those letters tied up. Is it the same woman?"

He nodded.

Pappy clapped his shoulder. “Rosie, you obviously wanted to talk to that person. Maybe she’ll write back.”

Maybe he needed to talk to Crosby. And also request for a lock and key for his drawer.

Late October 2026

Brooklyn, New York

When their schedules align, Elaine and Bunny meet up at least twice a month. The two women first met in Minton’s as waitresses. They were initially off with each other, with Bunny thinking that Elaine is a bit rude, while Elaine thought Bunny was too loud. They were once assigned two consecutive closing shifts and since then they understood each other.

Today was different. After a meeting, she opened her phone and saw several calls and messages from Bunny, asking to meet with her as soon as possible. This worried Elaine and thankfully, she was allowed to go early.

Few meters away, she spotted Bunny being served by a waitress. Two drinks–one green one and the other pink colored drink. She jogged and finally reached their table.

“Hey, Bun,” she greeted, kissing her friend’s cheek.

“Lane,” Bunny replied. “I got you this strawberry smoothie.”

Elaine sat and caught her breath for a moment. Her friend across from her, sipping her green drink.

Bunny is a 5 foot woman with a commanding presence. Her black hair is usually in a ponytail whenever at work and on a messy bun when she’s out from her shift. Her hoop earrings glittered a bit under the afternoon sky.

She is the opposite of Elaine, who stood 5 foot 5 inches, with slight medium built and wavy (now lighter) brown hair.

When Jerry discovered the photo in the wall of frames, Bunny talked to Elaine about it the next day. She first tried to deny it, but Bunny made her admit the truth. They had been working together for a year at the time and this was the first time she told a friend about her ability.

As they sat outside a cafe with their indulgent drinks, Bunny slipped a sealed manila envelope across the circular table, her hot pink nails distracting Elaine for a moment.

“Wow, THAT is pink.” Elaine teased. “Is it Barbie themed?”

“Ha ha,” Bunny replied, rolling her eyes. “But yes, I’m tired of those dark colors.”

“What’s this?” Elaine wondered, eyeing the envelope. “Is this why you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. Duke says it’s yours.”

Elaine opened the envelope and revealed another smaller envelope. It was yellowing but the red and white borders are still prominent.

Her eyes widened as she read the names written. At the top left side of the envelope, it wrote:

Robert Rosenthal

USAAF Station 139

Thorpe Abbotts

Norfolk, England

And in the middle part, it said:

Ms. Elaine Byrne

c/o Mr. H. Minton

206-210 West 118th Street

New York NY10026

United States of America

She took the letter. “Duke? The janitor?”

Bunny nodded. “Yeah. Lenny, the new manager, made him clean the scary room, you know the one that was locked after we pried it open? He went through boxes and boxes and then he saw this. That room was like a fire hazard with all the papers and empty bottles of alcohol."

Minty’s room, she thought. It has always been filled with papers and some alcohol.

“And he remembered my name?” Elaine wondered.

“He’s like the oldest person there, so he almost knows everybody. Since you no longer work there, he remembered we’re friends so he gave it to me,” Bunny answered.

“He does remember everybody…” she observed.

“Where did the letter come from?” Bunny asked.

“England,” she answered while reading it. “Rosie.”

“ Oh. Rosie… ” her friend sang, prolonging the man’s name. “You know, I never really liked the nickname. The name Robert is so hot though. You could call him Robbie when he’s—”

Elaine crumpled a napkin and threw it at her friend. “Bunny! It’s like thinking your grandpa’s hot! Or Ernest Hemingway!”

“What! He was good-looking, and so was Ernest Hemingway! I googled pictures of him and his pictures during those Nazi trials? I get why you…miss him.”

“I don’t miss him.”

“Right,” Bunny said, sipping her drink while staring at her. “Says the woman who stole the picture.”

Elaine frowned at her friend. “You know I had to. The staff won’t stop talking about it!”

“Where did you keep it then? In your journal?”

“No,” Elaine lied.

Bunny leaned in. “Don’t tell me you had it framed like a war widow and gaze at it longingly at night? Under your pillow?”

She laughed at Bunny’s cliché. Bunny joined her, the mental picture enough to crack her up. She knew how her friend can be sentimental and she’s not too far off from not doing it.

“No, I kept it in a journal,” she admitted.

“Don’t you want to read it now?” Bunny asked, pointing at the letter.

“I think I’d rather read it on my own…” Elaine remarked.

“Oh come on,” Bunny groaned. “I want to read an actual letter from a World War Two pilot!”

“Can’t I just send you a pic?” Elaine asked.

“No, I want the real thing.”

Elaine rolled her eyes. She knew Bunny would not stop hovering over her and the letter. She handed it and her friend excitedly took it from her hand. The letter was gently ripped to the side until it opened. Bunny carefully pulled out the letter and started reading. As she scanned the page, Bunny’s expressions changed from somber to amusement and…confusion.

“What is it?” Elaine asked.

“Were drunk letters a thing before?” Bunny asked back.

“I don’t know…why?” she replied, browsing the menu.

She took the letter from Bunny and her eyebrows furrowed with the scrawly yet still (surprisingly) legible writing.

Dear Elaine,

Where are you? It has been two years and yet! And yet I still think about you most of sometimes. Like tonight, I’m writing to you. I already sent my family and friends letters so my letter quota is done this week. I thought of writing to Mabel but So here I am writing to you.

Elaine stopped reading after that paragraph. She did not want Bunny to see her reaction towards the whole thing. After all, this letter is for her, right?

“That’s a drunk letter, bitch!” Bunny commented as Elaine folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope.

“I think I would cry if a guy wrote to me like that. Some guys can’t even spell properly, and autocorrect exists!” Bunny continued.

Elaine chuckled at her, remembering her friend’s failed dates.

“I just don’t understand how this reached me,” she admitted. “I mean, I basically ghosted him. Left him with a note that I made a waiter give to him.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bitch move.”

“I know. But what am I supposed to do? Explain to him that I didn’t mean to travel back in 1941?” she said. “‘Hey Rosie, I’m the ghost from your future!’”

“Or maybe you could just shut up, go back to 1943 and just tie the loose ends. Give the guy some closure! Give you some closure!”

Closure. Rosie’s future has already been written and Elaine is sure as hell not a part of it. However, she’s not going to deny (not in front of Bunny at least) that sometimes, she thinks about him. Did he walk the same streets? Was there like a place like Minton’s where they exist (or existed) together but in different timelines?

The name Robert Rosenthal is one name she tried her best not to type in her internet search engine ever since she met him. There was a certain romance in it, about someone being a mystery, whose memories were just hers to keep. She liked it that way.

“You’re going to England on those dates, right?” Bunny reminded her. “Are you going to see him?”

The question snapped Elaine back. “What?”

She gave Elaine a look.

“Sorry, I zoned out. What was it?”

“You are so far off. I said, you’re going to England to see your dad on those dates. Are you going to see him?”

“Hmm. Decide for me?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t know. Really. Tell me what to do.”

“You know what you’re going to do.”

“What? Oh come on, don’t let me be stupid.”

Her friend snickered. “I know you know.”

Elaine’s jaw dropped, not knowing whether to laugh or strangle her friend. “I don’t know, really.”

Bunny’s phone started ringing. She took the call and Elaine continued to look at the letter, feeling its battered texture and even smelling it due to curiosity. It smelled like old paper, stuffy and a little bit of alcohol in there.

Did Minty hold on to this letter on purpose?

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Wait for me. Alright. See ya.”

“What is it?” Elaine asked.

“Lenny wants me there early for God knows why! I should go, baby.” Bunny declared. “Bring me a souvenir, yeah?”

Bunny stood up and gathered her things. Elaine took her hand playfully, pulling sad faces. “Bunny, will you decide for me…?” She laughed and gave Elaine a kiss on the cheek, the sticky strawberry scented lip gloss can still be felt.

“Bunny!”

“You know what you’re going to do!” Bunny screamed when she reached a certain distance.

When her friend disappeared from the street, she placed a few bills for tips and took off.

There’s nothing more urgent than a letter from an old acquaintance…from the 1940s.

While walking back to her place, she thought of the letter. The last time she time-traveled was almost two years ago, when she met Rosie for the first time. Before she left Minton’s, she stopped herself from going back to ask Minty about Rosie's whereabouts. She felt bad doing the French exit even though it was the right thing to do.

Few blocks later, she reached her apartment and went straight to the elevator. When the doors were closing, she heard a man’s voice. “Hold it!”

She pushed the open button and she saw a man rushing to enter. He was panting, and catching his breath. She observed the man, who was wearing an olive button down shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. He has a thick mop of curly hair, seemingly deliberately messy and his light stubble is like a more prominent 5 o’clock shadow. He has rather sharp features, especially around the jaw and chin area, but he exudes an approachable aura. Like if you borrow something or help you reach something, he would do it with no questions asked.

She has seen him a few times in the building and sometimes in the coffee shop nearby, but never really had a moment with him until today.

The man towered over Elaine, and when he saw her looking, he smiled.

“Hi,” the man greeted.

“Hey,” she greeted back, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You haven’t pushed a button,” the man observed. Elaine immediately pushed her floor number.

“Yeah…uh, what’s yours?”

“Fifth. Same as you,” he answered.

When the elevator pinged, the man motioned his hand for her to go first. She thanked him and headed to her door. As he passed her by, he said, “Thanks, Elaine.”

He was living a few doors down from her.

“How d’you know my name?” Elaine hollered.

“I met your mom a few weeks ago. She asked me to fix something in your window,” he explained. Must be the window that has a weird sound in the hinges that I always forget to oil.

He walked towards her and extended his hand. “I’m Brian, by the way.”

She shook his hand. “I’m Elaine, but you know that now.”

Brian smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I hope that wasn’t creepy or anything.”

“It wasn’t but I’m gonna ask my mother about you.”

“Okay, all right, good point. See you later,” he said, unclasping his hand from her. She observed him until he entered his door. Better safe than sorry, she thought.

She placed her keys in the catch all bowl in the hallway and made her way to the couch. She took the letter from her bag and started reading it again, this time slower and at the comfort of her own home.

Dear Elaine,

Where are you? It has been two years and yet! And yet I still think about you most of sometimes. Like tonight, I’m writing to you. I already sent my family and friends letters so my letter quota is done this week. I was thinking of writing to Mabel but So here I am writing to you.

This war has been going on for too long. Too many brave men we had to mourn over and then still fly the next day. Some friends I made in the base are now gone and I don’t know if they’re dead or in some POW camp. Their absence is most felt at night, when the once full officers club is now half-empty. Some barracks now sit empty and too neatly, as if no one stayed there.

One time I had to tell a girl from the Red Cross that the man she danced with the night before died the next day. I couldn’t even look at her properly. It was awful.

I wish I could talk to you. I tried to have a little faith like you said, but sometimes I’m losing it. Can you help me find it? Tell me, how are you? Again, where are you? Are you still in New York? Partying in Minton’s? Minty said he hasn’t seen you Assigned to some base? Are you in the Red Cross? Are you a nurse? I don’t think you are because you might punch them once they touch you On the Pacific side of the war? Are you still there?

One morning, I thought I saw you in the base’s Red Cross clubmobile, giving away doughnuts and hot coffee. Same brown hair, pinned like the last time I saw you, alongside with red lipsticks the women wore.

When I blinked, I realized it was someone else. I hate it.

If you find yourself across the pond in England, I’ll be in Hammersmith, London from November 5 until 7. An officer recommended that I stay in Brooke Green so that’s where I’ll be. He also told me about the Hammersmith Palace Palais where he said they play jazz most nights.

I’ll meet you in Hammersmith Palais at 6 o’clock on November 5.

Please come. I want to see you If you could come, then great! If you don’t reply, I’ll never write again anymore. I promise. Tonight just felt like a good time to release whatever I’m feeling.

Yours,

Robert Rosenthal

PS. I don’t know where to send this so I’ll send this to Minton’s. I hope this reaches you. If it doesn’t I’ll blame Minty. Or the postal service first.

The letter is similarly aged like the envelope. She inspected both envelope and letter and she found that it was resealed before it reached her. Probably there was another letter but it was for Minty. Either way, the history of the letter and how it reached her was fascinating. This may be the first time she received a letter from the past despite time traveling for quite some time. Has there been recent developments in the field of time travel?

However, she considered Rosie’s invitation. It has been almost two years since they saw each other and yet, there’s a letter inviting her to London. Didn’t he think of her as rude after she left him with a note? She basically ghosted him without any chance of him reaching out. What is this, fate's cruel trick? For what? She left other people from the past like this as well, but how come her departure from Rosie seemed horrible?

Elaine laid the letter on her lap and stared at the ceiling for a while. She listened to the slow hum of the AC and the sound of her breathing, wondering what her next steps would be.

She took her phone and searched the address where the letter was written from. USAAF Station 139, she typed.

RAF Thorpe Abbotts. She clicked on some photos and articles and found it was an old air base used by British and American forces during the Second World War. Was he a pilot?

Then she typed his name in the internet search engine. Seconds later, a man in his uniform appeared, most definitely Rosie. His mustache was shaved, but his eyes had a certain twinkle in it. Bunny was right, he was handsome. He did become a pilot. A squadron commander, whatever that means! (But it sounds impressive.) Exhaling loudly, she clicked his name and read the concise version of his life.

What a life you had, Rosie.

Should I still be a part of this?

Laying her phone on the couch, she walked to her window and lit up a cigarette. She observed the sunset, its various hues of pinks and oranges illuminating the city. People are rushing on their way home, while others are taking their lovely time. Elaine imagined him among the people, perhaps the man who was wearing a suit with a leather suitcase.

She continued smoking and letting tons of possibilities pass her through.

Elaine knows what she’s going to do.

#we'll meet again #we'll meet again fic #masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #mota #mota fic #masters of the air fic #time travel au #oc: elaine byrne #time travel

17 notes · View notes

firstruleofmethclub · 5 months

Text

Tagged by @sorikas to post 5 songs that have been in my rotation recently.

Sorry it for taking like 2 weeks to post and also for initially trying to tag you as krtza. Like the deadnaming of tumblr URLs.

youtube

It seems silly to only have one Dreamkid song on this list seeing as my recent rotation has been like 95% his songs over and over. Which is especially wild seeing as he's only got like 10. But as representative of kind of the whole deal I will just use this.

youtube

2. I finished listening to a Monster of the Week actual play campaign recently, and the Keeper said he was inspired by the music of Wojchiech Golczewski (which I'm very confident he said wrong every single time), and eventually I thought "fuck it" and looked him up, and it turns out I actually knew some of his work from this exact movie, a movie which, I explicitly remember the music being the best thing about.

youtube

3. I watched a movie recently, and I honestly for the life of me can't remember what that movie was, but it had this song in it, which I immediately looked up after watching the movie (I don't think the movie was very good, but this song has hit one of my top listens in a very short amount of time because of it).

youtube

4. After being on my "My Mix" autogenerated playlist thing last year a whole bunch, I Think We're Alone Now actually did disappear from it a couple months ago. Unfortunately I noticed that and so I hit it until it came back, now it gets like, daily play again.

youtube

5. E.M.M.P.'s tracks seem like they would be great music to put on in the background while you're playing Warhammer (insert "I love Warhammer games. Love to actually play one one day" meme). But either way, when I want something instrumental, I listen to Dreamkids instrumental tracks... But when I DON'T do that, I listen to E.M.M.P., and this is probably the one that gets the most play at the moment.

I taaaaag @quannaix, @endreal, @gelfling-gxrl, @frangipanick & @spaghettithighs - yes. Five feels like the appropriate number of people to harrass for this.

#gimly #Youtube

9 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 1 year

Text

It's On the Tip of My Tongue

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Content, Aged-up Turtles, Established Relationship, Love, Romance, Cunnilingus, AFAB Reader, Masturbation, Cum Play

Synopsis: Your boyfriend goes above and beyond after offering to teach you Japanese.

Also avaliable on Ao3

Written for the prompt✨Donnie's Love Language is Learning✨

I am so honored and inspired to be surrounded by such incredible writers and artist on a daily basis! This one goes out to y'all plus more specifically @amutantturtleenthusiast and @shiftandshade for literally giving me the premise on a silver platter. Both of your brains blow me away on a daily basis. Pun intended!

Last warning for the 🍋 under the cut. Minors DNI!

“What are you?”

Staring hard at the foreign letters on the package you were holding, you glared at the tiny mascot that looked like a buff praying raisin.

Donnie who was a few feet away with a basket tucked into curled arm, barely shot you a glance. “Try the tag.”

“It just says Nobel!” You gripped, turning the parcel over only to find a slew of even smaller font of what looked like walls of doodled strokes.

Sighing as if he were put out, he made the few step trek. You offered him the candy and he instead leaned into your space to review it. “Otoko Ume.” He gave a light scoff. “Man plum, I believe it’s supposed to be a manly amount of sour.” He pointed to the mascot. “Hence whatever this is supposed to be.”

“You had it before?” Turning into him brought your faces closer together.

“I prefer sweeter fruit chews.” He gently knocked the side of his head against yours and moved away.

Watching him depart with a warm smile, you went back to the candy with a tepid frown. Your brow scrunched and then rose as you snapped your neck back towards him. “Wait, did you read this?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged and went back to debating chips.

“You can read Japanese?”

“You’ve met father aka Splinter aka Lou Jitsu aka Hamato Yoshi dozens if not hundreds of times at this point.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never heard him speak it!”

He gave you a look that somehow both read disappointed and incredulous. “You do realize how that sounds?”

You grit your teeth and crinkled the packaging with nervous fingers. “Ok, look-”

He turned to you with dubious attention, folding his arms in way that caused the basket to jut out like a plastic welt.

“We’ve been together for how long?” You needed to reframe.

“Four years, 7 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days.”

He always spouted off the knowledge like it was nothing. You adored that he kept a running tally.

“And this has never come up in the slightest!?” You swung out your hand to make the point, but it just made it look like you were offering him the candy.

He reached out and plucked a corner of it between a thumb and finger to place it back on the shelf. “Can that be…?” With an extra adjustment to make sure the bag was in line with its brethren, he resumed his crossed stance as he processed the data. “Hm, you may have a point.”

Sighing out of sheer relief, you switched to eyeing him up. “Let’s hear it then.”

He gave it another moment of thought before grabbing a bag of nori shio chips. “Pa-pa tried to teach us when we were very young to varying degrees of success.”

He dropped the selection into the basket and you walked over to scan the savory snacks.

“I’m not sure to the extent, but Raph can certainly maintain day to day conversation. Dad will sometimes switch over when he’s really tired and Raph mirrors the speech. I’ve always meant to test if he’s aware he does it.”

Tempering your eureka moment, you found a bag of snacks you had always wondered about and quickly offered them to Donnie.

He scarcely glanced at it. “Kameda Kakinotane, they’re baked soy sauce rice crackers and peanuts.”

Pulling the package back, you marveled at finally having secured the knowledge that had eluded you.

“Mikey took to reading. When he was real small he’d sit in Dad’s lap and make him slowly read out the ‘pretty letters.’ He maintains accounts on multiple Japanese art sites and I’ve seen him flagging pages from imported books to look back at…” Donnie tipped his head to the side and gave a huff. “I can’t remember the last time I heard him speak it out loud. That’s annoying.”

Still putting a majority of your focus into listening, another package that had vexed you caught your eye so you moved to hold it out.

“Amanoya Himemaru, it’s a fried salty/sweet rice cracker.”

Lighting up, Donnie already had the basket offered out as you shifted to drop them in. You gave him a thankful smile which he lazily returned with a nod.

“As soon as Leo took to Señor Hueso it was all over. That peabrain of his doesn’t seem to be able to hold two languages at once; he dumped all the Japanese for Spanish, if he even had any.”

“Which just leaves the star of the family.” You shifted your body weight to one hip and Donnie regarded you fondly.

“Fluent, as you can image.” He slunk down and around you awaiting further praise.

“Of course.” You gave it in the form of a stroke to his cheek that curled down the scratch that place he liked his beneath his chin. You felt the brunt of his rumbling churr along with a softening of his features in delight.

He allowed it for a moment before reigning himself in as he seemed to remember you were out in public. “Along with a few other languages that were self-taught.”

“My genius.” You hummed, stepping with purpose towards another aisle.

He followed as you approached the daunting wall of teas. The lead position meant he couldn’t see you. Using this time, you crafted your most puppy-like gaze before rounding it on him. It sputtered out as he had already steeled his features into a hard icy line. You almost missed the days when you could routinely catch him off guard to your advantage. He knew you far too well now and though you preferred it, sometimes you wish he’d let you get off once in awhile.

“I’m not going to read off all the labels.”

Your shoulders slacked and your head rolled back in defeat. “Come on!”

“There’s an English proverb that comes to mind…” He feigned thinking even though you both knew he already had the information locked and loaded.

“Yeah, yeah…” You whined.

“’Teach a man to fish.’” He spared you by only reciting a portion.

Your displeasure distracted you for a moment and then you bobbed as the intention hit you. “You want to teach me?”

“If…” His guard lowered in a small and timid way that translated the importance of this gesture. It wasn’t some snide force of information to correct you where public education had failed. It was his family’s culture. Your heart was faulty of bursting before he even finished what he was saying. “… you would be interested in that.”

“Yes.” You had tempered your shout which was a good start, but the urge to tackle him was off the charts. You settled for pressing your arm to his free one and weaving your five digits between his three for a tight squeeze. He showed his appreciation for you holding back by pressing a kiss to your temple.

The air then rapidly change as he parted with your conjoined hands in marched tow. “Let’s begin. Dearest, you picked the perfect place to start!” You balked and he used your surprise to trade the basket into your hands. He then posed in front of the green teas and brought a finger to attention. “Here we have ‘oh-cha,’ or tea. Some might believe this refers to only green tea, but if we dig into the radicals of the characters than we reveal something delightful about the language…”

He droned into both a heady lesson in tea and Japanese that would keep you both at the little specialty grocery store until closing. After getting scolded by an employee and finally making your purchases, you’d somehow been able to coax your purple turtle back to your apartment. You’d been unable to reign that mouth of his in as he doubled all of his sentences throughout your nighttime routine. Even into the kiss goodnight under the covers did he whisper sweet nothings on that dual tongue of his. It would have been sweeter if you weren’t exhausted. You could still hear the syllables as you drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke, you found yourself snuggled in tight with a cold emptiness beside you. It wasn’t unusual as it was hard to keep Donnie tied down to a mattress for sleepy mornings, so you hobbled up to look for your partner. He was nowhere nearby and the silence that chased your search seemed to indicate he had gone out. Bleary and sleep drunk, you stared at a bright pop of neon purple on the wall opposite you. It was curious enough that you left the comfort of your covers to investigate. Against your body’s protest, you gave a half smile as it came into view. It was a translation for the word ‘wall’ with a Romanized version for pronunciation and two sets of characters. You seemed to remember something about the three alphabets, but you weren’t sure which were on the note.

Resisting the urge to take it down, you turned and caught another purple note on your nightstand. You reached to touch the one on your alarm clock and caught sight of another pressed to the surface of the table as well. Getting a sinking feeling in your stomach, you rubbed your eyes. With renewed gaze, you came to find there were about five sticky notes on the nightstand alone. Foreboding sensations tickled your fingers as you spun around and started to take in just how many surfaces in your apartment were labeled. The purple notes popped up in nearly every inch of the space in some shape or form. It would have been impressive if not for how daunting it was.

Shirking it off, you headed to the bathroom to wash up. It marked the beginning of your battle with the annotations. The one marking the mirror was set in the dead center so you had to move it to see your reflection. The one wrapped around your toothbrush had to be completely set aside and the one on the toothpaste fell off as soon as you picked up the tube. The clipping on your face wash then fell into the sink and the one on your hairbrush had picked up an errant strand to its adhesive. Trying to cool your heated nerves, you went to get dressed and thankfully found no signs of that accursed neon amongst your clothes. Suspicious, you grabbed a shirt and turned to find a detailed manifest taped to sliding door of your closet instead.

You praised yourself for not ripping the thing to shreds and moved in an angry stupor on your couch. Across from you a note clearly sat against the screen of the TV, blocking a little square of the screen in the top center. You stared at it with wide furious eyes as the lock turned at your door. You turned that same look on the only person who had a key.

Donnie slipped in with a brown bag tucked into one arm and did a jaunty little twirl into locking the door back up. He then turned with a bright smile. It didn’t falter as he passed short glance at your furious expression. He brushed past it and headed to the kitchen. Climbing up into the couch, you watched him over the back of it as he sat the bag down and proceeded to get some plates.

“If that’s breakfast than I might be inclined to not get as mad about… all of this.” Looking around it didn’t take long for you to point you the nearest glaring neon offense.

He followed your arm and then gave you a genial nod which you read as a confirmation. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet. Where you had been annoyed, suspicion took over. Doing a half roll, half jump over the couch, you joined him in the kitchen as he laid out two wrapped bodega breakfast sandwiches. The scent distracted you and you reached for one before registering your arm was in motion. He peppered a napkin on top of your plate as a precaution to what would certainly be a messy ordeal and you left him in favor of taking your bounty back to the couch.

You had already gotten a few greasy bites in when he finally came around and set his plate on the coffee table. Through your own chews you watched as he then moved the sticky note on the TV and returned to you. He took a seat beside you and muttered a phrase you swore you had heard in any number of anime before he picked up his sandwich to eat. The curious silence ebbed between bites and when you went for the remote, you didn’t find it in its typical place. Donnie was pretty good about keeping the apartment in order for easy retrievals and you swiveled your head to look for the device. You found it instantly in a green hand and watched as he flicked the TV on. It instantly came alive and within moments you found you couldn’t understand what they were saying.

You slumped back into the cushions. “Of course, you somehow already have it set to some Japanese channel!”

He responded and it took you another beat to realize it hadn’t been another comment from the TV.

“What?” You turned to him, your sandwich already falling to the wayside.

He turned to you and the aura of smugness rolling off of him was palpable. He then went on to not only repeat whatever he had said initially, but rattle off a few more sentences that you presumed were an explanation.

You gave a hollow laugh. “No.”

One of his eye brows lifted in a manner that said the opposite.

“You’re not.”

He said something else in Japanese and went back to eating.

“Of course!” You shouted and looked around frantically. In this sense he was the immovable object, so you were already on the hunt for a work around. Over the years you’d found yourself quite adept an levyig your quick thinking against his staunch attitude. He’d grown humble in some ways, but when he was hyperfocused, you had to get creative. Not finding what you were looking for, you remembered where you had started your day. You found your phone under yet another sticky note in the bedroom. Balling up the bit of paper and tossing it into the trash, you typed out a message.

You: You’re just not going to speak English anymore?

Positioning yourself in the door of the bedroom you watched as Donnie took his time unearthing his phone from his pocket. He then regarded the text and then shot you cocksure grin before typing something out. You waited for your phone to vibrate before looking down.

Mauve Menace 💜: 言語を学ぶ最良の方法は、没頭することです。

That contact nickname had never been more fitting. You smiled regardless because it had been exactly what you expected and you copied the text into a translation window. Your gambit had worked out, but you scowled at its contents.

“Don, I love you and I want to do this, but… you gotta give me a break!” You crossed the room and over to him. Your shift in attitude had him placing his meal back down on the coffee table and extending an arm to you. As you drew close he wrapped it around your leg. “I’ll learn fast this way, yeah.” You reached down and gently cradled his chin where he was already looking up at you. “I need breaks though. My mind doesn’t work the same as yours.” You bent down to place a kiss to the top of his head which he dipped down to make more accessible. “Let’s set up a schedule and do immersion blocks during certain hours? Does that sound ok?”

Though he was still sat on the couch, he scooted to the edge and tugged your leg until your body was flush with his shoulder. He then rested his head against your stomach and thought the proposal over. You waited patiently and twirled your fingers into his little mask tails. When he seemed satisfied, he released you.

“Alright.”

“Ah, English to my ears!” You sang and dipped down to give him another kiss. He met it and you crossed him to drop back into the couch with a plop.

“The labeling…” You glanced at the closest one on the coffee table. “Maybe when I have a little more understanding I’ll come to like them, but for right now there’s way too many. I’m more of a hands-on sort of learner.” You laid your head against the arm rest and debated grabbing the rest of your breakfast.

Donnie gave a little thoughtful hum and mumbled something that you were sure was English, but still didn’t make it to your ears.

You gave your own curious response that he could either leave if he were chugging down a thought train or indulge if he were in a sharing mood.

In a mixed bag of both, he got to his feet. He continued to rattle off a series of what you now could identify as disjointed thoughts. It was the kind of thing he did when he was in a formulation state. You watched as he predictably headed to his desk. He kept his lab in the safety of the sewers, but when you’d chosen to cohabitate, you’d made sure he had space to work on any non-lethal projects.

Curious as to whether he’d go the old fashioned route of digital for what you presumed was a blueprint, you watched as he instead clambered for a box of parts. He then scowled at them, dumping the pieces into another such bin and using the now empty container to push all the work atop his desk into. It was enough to bring you to an upright position; he rarely treated his paperwork so poorly.

You were about to ask when he rounded on you with a manic eye. His body language shifted to tender, but that edge to his gaze said it was a sort of put on. Regardless, your body responded when he ghosted his hands over your shoulders and propped a knee up on the couch. Using the stability, he then crowded you and his lips pressed greedily into yours with enough pressure that you laid back down. By the time he encouraged you to slip your arms around his neck, you had almost forgotten about the strange display. His hands cascaded down your body, massaging your thighs in a way that coaxed them apart. Slotting himself there, his tongue attempted to drown yours and you had a far away thought that he was rushing when he hadn’t even seemed in the mood just a few moments ago.

A single rock into your center caused the thought to evaporate. He kept the pressure vague but ever-present as the pawing make-out session continued. You were near delirious when he pulled back. You watched with a love drunk gaze as he studied you from where an elbow held him up on one side of your head. Admiring his work, he wiped a bit of drool from your lower lip with his thumb and then beamed you an all too saccharine smile.

“I think we’re ready to begin.”

“Uh-wha?” You hadn’t regained the ability to sharpen consonants yet when he left you.

“With the lesson, darling!” He beamed as if that were patently obvious.

You stared at him dumbly and he dipped down to pick you up. One arm slipped under your knees while the other cradled your shoulders. Despite your confusion, you snuggled up to him as he carried you over to his desk. He deposited you right in the center of it and took great care to adjust your seating. When he felt satisfied, you were perched on the very edge with your legs dangling off of it. He dropped down onto his knees before taking one of each of your own in either of his hands. He pressed them together which translated all the way up your thighs. It made the slick between your legs all the more apparent.

Still trying to process what was happening, he set his chin atop your legs and watched you with what you could only describe as an abuse of innocence.

“Donnie… what’s going on?”

“You…” The angelic softness in his eyes caramelized before you as he rose up smoothly into your face. He then tilted his head as if he were going to kiss you, but instead continued, “... said you preferred experiential learning. As do I, so let’s learn.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the lacquer in his tone and he shifted back to his knelt stance. You had the faint idea of protesting, but he then hooked a finger into either side of your shorts.

“Speaking can come later. We’ll schedule it, as discussed, but there’s a little thing we should work on first…”

It took you a moment to find your voice. “Y-yeah?”

He nodded and trailed his fingers around to the button in the front. “The tongue is a muscular organ that among its many jobs helps to manipulate language.”

He was methodically about undoing the stud and you felt the need to anchor yourself to the edge of the table as he dragged the zipper down at a painfully slow pace.

“Its dexterity is of utmost importance and something I’d like to demonstrate to you along with some basic characters before you get into it yourself.”

Your nod started small and then grew eager as he trailed his hands back to your sides. Glad you had a solid grip, you brought your hips up and he slipped both your shorts and underwear off in one go. You sucked a breath in through your teeth as he set them aside, carefully, on a chair before returning to you.

“To clarify, today we’re focusing on Hiragana. Do you remember what that is?” He kissed one of your knees and your jaw fell slack.

Trying to pick it up and swallowing the rapidly accumulating moisture in the process, you licked your lips. “It’s… an alphabet?”

“That’s not as specific as I’d hoped, but you aren’t wrong.” He awarded you by slowly pulling your legs apart. Your body arched instinctively as the collected honey threaded strings between the two sides of your inner thighs. He drew close and shot it an approving gaze before turning it up on you.

“Don-” His name hitched as you melted under the searing look.

“46 characters representing syllables that allow us to write Japanese words, conjugation endings, and grammar particles.” He drawled on as he settled himself into the most comfortable position. It ended with his face right between your legs and his hands wrapped around your legs with a grip on the outside of each thigh. “Let’s start with some monographs, what do you say?”

“Yes, please, just-” You strangled the desperation and tried to translate it into your face.

A fond look broke through his molten façade and he gave a quick peck to your left thigh in what you sensed was an acknowledgement of how well you were playing along. You pried one of your hands free from the table to cover his with a light squeeze to translate something similar.

A flicked gaze back to your core and he was all burning business again. “There are a series of characters that happen to follow along the English vowels…”

You wished you could mouth a response, but the anticipation was throttling your voice.

“Starting from the top.” He closed the gap and pressed his face into your heat. Your head rolled back as he adjusted and then the scorch of his tongue darted out. He made precise strokes and it tore a sound out of you.

“Ah!”

He pulled back just enough so he could speak, “Exactly, unlike our vowels though, Japanese handles the long and short forms differently where need be. For this character, it’s that single sound.”

He immediately pressed his snout into you again and shifted the angle. His tongue dipped between your folds and you huffed.

“Oo!”

“Perfect.” His hot breath tickled you and you squirmed. “You just need to ensure the right mouth shape to make it distinct from...” He surged forward, tracing a hot line down towards your center, but not quite pressing in.

“Oh!”

He was a little slower to retreat and took his time gathering the moisture weeping there. “Do…” He swallowed. “Do you hear the difference? The う is like ‘too’ and the お is like ‘coat.’”

You rolled your hips forward, unable to answer.

“Two more, you’re doing incredible.”

His encouragement brought a pathetic whine up your throat as he nosed into you again. You seized up as he first tasted you then distinctly making the strokes that flicked directly over your clit.

“Ee!”

He rumbled in a way you vaguely understood as affirmative before going for another pattern. Its precise tongue movement didn’t rip a sound from you and for the first time you became semi-cognizant to what he was doing. Memories of him eating you out over the years reeled by as his tongue made flat stimulating laps. He’d been able to finesse his ministrations to the point where he knew exactly where to lick to get you to make the exact sound he desired. You might have been scared of his accuracy had he not finally shoved the thick of his tongue into your hole. A lengthy moan passed your lips and you forewent the table to hold directly onto his head. He awarded you with a few pumps of his tongue before pulling all the way out and putting a several more inches of distance between his face and your pussy than he had yet.

You nearly cried and a pathetic sound trickled out of you. “Eh…”

He panted heavily, shaking his head with a growl. “All five.” He gave your thighs a congratulatory squeeze. “Though that latter one may have sounded like the English ‘e,’ it’s actually interpreted as the ‘i,’ while the former is then the inverse of that.”

You rolled your head from where it was thrown back to look at him in a scandalized fashion.

He smiled darkly. “To recap, that’s い for ‘easy,’ like how easy it is to make you cum and え as in ‘wet’ and how I soak you through after just a few kisses.”

You wanted to scream at him. That fury in your eyes caught his and he gave another easy smile.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

The fury petered out and you watched for that affectionate switch to occur. Instead, his blown out pupils read that he was barely holding back. If it had been there, you might have interjected with the amount you held, instead his burning gaze brought out your mimic. “How much?”

“Let me tell you.” He murmured and shot forward. His grip on your legs was bruising and now all his ministrations were exact. A scream surged from your belly and you caught it with clenched teeth. The table rocked as he wrote out an epic with his tongue alone. You scarcely wondered how many pages this explanation would take up as the coil tightened with each twist of brush. He wove a love letter through your folds and across your clit while taking time to dot off sentences with a pump into your core. It was just enough pressure that your arms gave out and you slacked back, caught only by his wall of monitors. You had zero concern for their state as blood rushed in your ears and you could feel your peak coming on. Without your limbs to translate this, you squeezed his head between your thighs to give him some kind of signal. The fingers curled in on one of his hands and you felt the appendage then wave. Despite both your positions, you recognized it as ASL for ‘yes.’

You wanted to strangle the multilingual love of your life.

Instead, he seemed to finish his soliloquy and then attach himself directly to your clit. You came as soon as he did, his tongue eas you from the high as the spring rhythmically compressed and released. His grip on your legs soon loosened and he took great care in licking up the extra slick you generated. Satisfied, his head lolled back and he swiped that magnificent tongue of his over his lips.

His head rested against your inner thigh and you slowly regained the ability to move your arms. Once you had enough control, you used them to pull yourself from his screens and give him a sheepish look. He shrugged it off and rubbed his cheek against you to telegraph that it was alright. You smiled and reached out, needing to touch him more. Brushing your knuckles against his cheek, your tried to keep your lids open. “That much, huh?”

“That much.” He agreed.

You gave a wistful sigh and the inability to lean back properly was starting to wear on you. Donnie stood, freeing himself for your legs for only a moment before leaning down to dip an arm under your knees. This time you were ready and reached out to knot your arms around his neck. He spared you a kiss before surprising you by rotating your body so you could lay out long ways across the desk. You were curious for a moment, until he moved and you noticed that it could easily align your throat with his hips. Thinking this was what he intended, one of your legs came up in a lazy bend and you adjusted your shoulders.

He watched you lazily before going for his waistband. It was a stretchy sort of garment that made for easy transition between day to day and ninja vigilantism. As he prepared to slip it off his hips, you caught the telltale outline as he shimmied the fabric.

“You dropped?” You wondered with a half-lidded gaze.

“Can you blame me?” His pants fell away and he stepped out of them. His cock bobbed lazily now that it was free and he reached down to fist the base. “You did so good in your lesson.”

“It’s already over?” You murmured, biting your lowering lip and unable to look away as he slowly tensed the skin forward.

“No and…” He gave himself a few hard strokes before blowing out a shaky breath. “It’s bad form because I would prefer the lecture had flow, but I’d like to cap off today’s teaching with something a little more complicated.”

“I like the sound of that.” You hummed in agreement, wondering when he’d let you take him.

You watched with a growing furrow in your brow as he moved to jerk himself off to a steady rhythm.

“Can I…?” You drew out the question, pushing up onto one shoulder.

He shook his head and stepped in closer. The wet slap of his fluids resonated in your ears. “I want to watch you.”

“Watch me?” You finally broke eye contact with his cock to search his face. “But I’m not-”

“You’re doing everything.” He corrected sternly.

Your mouth snapped shut and you lay back tensely. He continued to slide his fist from hilt to tip with his speed increasing incrementally.

You studied him until it came to you. “Explain it to me.”

His lips parted with a heady little chirp.

“Teach me.”

“My star pupil.” He groaned into the praise and paid extra attention to his flared head. “While we say it-” He stuttered and his hips bucked into his hand. “-casually. In Japanese culture, you don’t say ‘I love you,’ you show it. If it is said…” He trailed off, drinking you in with a long dragging gaze. “… it makes it all the more special.”

You nodded, curious if this was meant to be a demonstration. It didn’t feel quite right. Though he didn’t say it as often as you did and he was very good at acts of services as illustrated. The more you thought, the more you came to notice he didn’t fit neatly into any of the love languages. In the time your relationship had grown, you found that he completed each in his own way. Instead of overt touch, he preferred little, more meaningful brushes. He’d gone from plying you with inventions to making the occasional one that meant all the more. Quality time had been through the roof since you’d moved in together and you’d often wound up sharing space with one another, content doing separate things. Overcome with the many memories, you came back to yourself as the slap of his fist against his now soaked plastron seemed deafening. You could barely trace his hand as his pace became erratic.

“You.” He heaved the word. “You.” He repeated and turned his body. In a few last desperate tugs, ropes of his semen cascaded down your torso. You gasped at the sudden heat of them and barely registered when he shot forward as soon as the last of it ribboned out. His insane reflexes came into play and this time you couldn’t follow his hands at all as they danced over your belly. You gawked as he then pulled away, one of his fists dripping with his own release. Still feeling remnants, you looked down to find a clear set of characters spelled out in what was left.

You craned up onto your elbows in attempt to read what was written on your body without disturbing the fluid.

He leaned in close and pointed with his free hand as he mouthed, “’Eye-she-teh-ee-mah-ss.’”

You sat up just a bit more and he threaded an arm around your shoulders to support your weight. “Again.”

With his head now right beside yours, he seemed to surprise slightly, but complied.

“One more…” You urged, turning to ghost your lips over his.

He repeated the words and drank you in with a kiss.

You didn’t let it linger and pulled back. Biting your lip, you set your gaze and carefully enunciated what you’d heard. “愛しています”

His lips crushed you back into the table and you could feel him move to grab you but falter with a handful of his cum impeding the action. Clearly annoyed, he broke away to tissue the fluid away before returning with more. He wiped you clean before urging you to your feet which became immediately apparent as a transfer to the bed. He made the trek slow and you huddled close to him. “How did that not flow?”

He gave a dry chuckle and you gave into the sheets. “Only one character I taught you ended up being in the final phase.”

“い” You noted.

He had been in the process of crawling into bed with you and caught you in another crushing kiss.

Pulling back breathless, you could feel a long day of intimacies coming on and wanted to clear one last thing up before it was too late. “And watching me?”

“Working up the nerve to say something that important.” He responded swiftly with that smug grin of his. “Seeing you sprawled out for me, having let me do that to you, and indulging all my little idiosyncrasies…” He reached over and plucked a sticky note from the bedside table.

You promptly snatched it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s that kind of love.”

He grinned and you both fell back into each other’s embrace.

💜Follow me, my ko-fi, or on Ao3 for updates! Become a member on ko-fi for behind the scenes notes, processes, and WIPs 💜

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

80 notes · View notes

abolickxers · 10 months

Text

Check out "Obsidian"

If I could gather all the pieces of my heart, shattered like the broken glass at my feet.

I would. Id go back to that day, id run toward the warmth of you and I would never have regretted any moments. Id have been there no matter what. I would have never confused you with someone else and I would have told you who you are to the world, to me.

to the origin of stars, when one direction is always the root of limbs long turned flooring roof and tinder.

a light beacon a message in a dark place only in your eyes and a smile upon your face can replace the tired old distance I feel in the places we used to now. All the math and money, no amount could you use to improve all the secrets vast and known and not a little bit used to make a life for us to be authentic in a corrupt way of being. Maybe it's my heart bitter words on my tongue are worn like old cuffs with the key kept somewhere I often mourned but I could never return there as me lest I witness is all gratefully happy for the reprieve of my voice back into it's hollow, thoughts buried deep in the mindfulness on breath that I swallow and upon this chair I slouch and slump and rock back and forth the rhythm of my tongue and my teeth tarnished a d slightly yellow, nicotine stains and crooked ridges after a spell of ten years, not any bit id call mellow. And I assume my organs are quite thirsty and my muscles have been over working every fiber and protein in all that mass of I was once and the tenacity of the weight of love like a drummers bass; bellowing when I am in fear and the tiny teardrops i refuse to allow to trickle down my lids that almost 3 years noe it was a storm so mighty and shallow was the entry of 2 gods and all the world was sent me a witness i alone guarded their fight alone with my dog, so cold and rain and fog i thought i would die. The rain many feet in filled the the trash can 2 times as fast as I had blinked and it did it again. And I could hear them like a dinosaur and a truck fighting for a gift that was never intended for someone to cause me to think there is such thing as luck. Like what are the chances two flames from different hearts could come together and in a instant contain all that was ours in every facet every light every child and all the love of all you could believe torn from the arms abd heart of a family and then there was just me.

And buscuit

Afraid and cold and under the blankets. Below zero and it's something to say of love that he'd kept it. The only part of my life that I didn't need the part that would give me someone's personality. So I came on arriving as a host, like a ghost I spoke few words and was ruder than most. I want to be kind but it's difficult to swallow all the pain of watching you walk back toward a day I ran for a million races and all moments that defined home were measured with a whisper. How could I easily resist worth? Could I actually value myself if I never ask for help and so I never do any other task. I sit about wishing you'd ask. Knowing full well what demented love that a mother could bring, the love of asking the world to be selfless and consider what we don't see. What a question a rooted rotten gorge of a fount that bubbles forth from fingers to eyes and awe inspired slack jaw look as the world around me shook like a dragon had caught a crook. The little trailer rocking left and right almost like a tin can and a rock processor came into a fan and blew out chunks of tuna back into the sea and whales were once again playing and dolphins were free except the storm was greater than even that tsunami that destroyed a coastal relic a place long ago forgotten by people daily moving away from the effects of silence and outspoken. Neither language of noise or silence could be best or worst for it was obviously the actions that we curse. If it were just a thought well than we know better than to try and something other than 190% miracles with a possibility of humanity. And so the question was asked but so many forgot the chosen must live with rules that contain all your purpose and interwoven is the answer the path and the method because truly blessed is a perspective I can't achieve alone if I'm also casting stone after stone in a place I can't be good toy word if it's 2 forward and 2 times past and I was not there to speak to the man or woman that would be tasked to answer That. So too honest too alur perplexed derision or imploded affinity with motivating others to be more to themselves and know that what I have in you is hope because maybe one day I won't upon the words of love begin to chole and hold tight the breath that is his as per request we don't really live as other so and or about the same time I discovered in you something truly divine. That's a spark none ever needed. That bad as I was you had remarked that life is lived and love is a badge and as you honor all that's left behind when there is reason all people become one person one animal or one friend it's because all people have at some point a need to mend. So catalyst A please be advised your lower case self is in need of all that you confide but without either we have no word whom all the borrowed apologies will never arrive for the one who assumes that thank you is worse if you doubt but receiving love is a deceit is not anlesson i would carry about. I want a child happily and hopeful also a cloud that shines and shutters with every breath sending mist shade and rainbows on a prism of life that God designed best with me and the rest heavy lidded holding on to the cathartic equilibrium and unwavering rhythm of my portaly sighty heart and my motion all tied into a present day devotion

Needs and wants all same id you are we because I seem to be divided by asking every one else for what I can't say it's freedom of decisions is the fact that you found my thoughts and tell people I'm mad as though I were not the one who cares for you on all land ocean and air even the sight of our eyes we have shared and I am scared for the notion, that love could bring an evil or unsteady creation to the brim of a cup overflowing with nothing but trust that if I win it would be universal because love is without the boundaries that make feelings less who I am but it must have some such beast caged andbthe hungernis who iam so manifest if youudlst nut never again will I be more tjan a memory god plave your mind in safe harbours and swim to thebshores of free floating gazes soft to the touxh is the fingers lightly tapping out hebfinal beata of a heart no longer becoming of the effort. I can't seem to defeat if it is apologies I simper at the graves of those who before me would never whisper. Live your life humble out loud and proud but roar not for the reason others suffer or boast of what's best if freely no delight comes to you when a someone enjoys what you have here making the piano emp when music is the purpose of so many ears. Don't fret it is not you I don't see who I am 5 by 2 in all direction as 35 is 88 and such is the cost of being half whole and wait for the gate to be embossed for thy self is all in the wit of wisdom forgetting oneself in and on a shelf that was pitched into the flames while submerged in the surface of a perfect narrow space barely survivable at first. Expanding slowly the little earth that I am once holding the child in so many forms of womb, trickery must have been performed as incalculatable was my life that every moment was kept logged away fromy eye a s a secret I dhad secretland long stirring a choice to give all m live as is it is who m chose to do what was need at the same time what aysterry to me I know only God is divine andi a moment longer no more, the swine has slipped from my center and become beast once more emerging fresh and blessed abd begging of nothing all that she had begged as two so we may move on to tomorrow's yesterday's and nows as presented by the spoke and fully woke nonnets place abd home is the holder all names doors ans windows to vast oceans of blameless factless erosion of any claim that woukd leave that would leave any without and that which I chose when I could live without, it was thepain and stress of blessing and guessi g and productive is we and I work tirelessly and wait for a gift. A surprise that doesn't undermine all the love that I give. Mirror askew am in not welcome any one bitter enough by the anger you choose should see I speak as 2. So joy is what I give you with healthy strategies that don't harm me any more than it ever did when we are free to devour all the laughter and turn it into a wholesome platter of likely disasters made funny with a perspective lightly tart. Give up the words that mean so much that they broke your heart. A smile is better and worse even is a frown because then you know I can't see you if your upside down. I love you with eternal and limitless emotion but my small frame cannot take much more of the commotion and such is life that I will never get to live because of what people thought i was. Willing to give. Sorrow isn't easy and revenge hurts more becase the love I need is where and whom you destroy. So blah blah blah disposition I'm bored ans sick of being an imposition. Hit time to smoke again stupid your brains work too well I live a dillussion and it's all collusion and I'm a xclot in m own way and you think I'm owned by someone other than me so no u mustn't pay for a place in your own body I am forever the same l claim all so you can upkeep you but if I fall what then can we do but see helle Keller and Stevie Baskin doubt as they shout nut no words come out

#real shit

2 notes · View notes

thebahwrites · 2 years

Note

Re: the fic questions. For killshot. I'd love to know all or any answers to 2, 5, 6, 11 and 12.

My beloved ❤️❤️❤️ LES GO! I love these I'M SO EXCITED TO TALK ABT KILLSHOT

Under the cut cause I ramble so much...

on killshot!

2: What scene did you first put down?

A scene that never made the final cut! It was an Iceman scene and it was something based on a movie I'd just watched and I thought 'hah that'd look cool written down' and when I did I realized I had a whole fic idea. I still have it written but it'll likely never see the light of day, which is sad because it's actually so good!

5: What part was hardest to write?

There are two death scenes down that haven't been posted yet that to me were really gut wrenching, there's another scene that also isn't posted yet that is very raw and had me rewriting it about three times. of the posted ones, funny enough the Rooster/Charlie Hard Deck scene, not because the scene itself was hard but because I wasn't satisfied with how it turned out. Still don't love it but it's posted so!

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It's the fic that made me want to go back to writing fanfics! I woke up that day, had the idea for a scene and inspiration just hit me violently and when I realized, I had a whole... lore and ideas and just REALLY wanted to write this specific story with these specific characters! And I had stopped writing six years ago, so really, this one fanfic is the brain worms that brought me back into fanfiction, fandom culture and writing! I can't even explain, it just happened! And I'm so very happy about it.

Also what makes it different from the others is that not only it's this very specific niche AU so dear to my heart but it's also my experimental little piece. With narration and writing style, everything about it is just... me coming back from writing for myself for the past six years and trying to put in practice everything I've learned since!

I feel I'm improving by the day, too!

11: What do you like best about this fic?

The literal amount of effort I've put on it, I have the exactly eight (08) docs of things detailing lore, timeline, powers, character dynamics, design, ideas, removed scenes, scenes to be added. I have just SO MUCH for it, it's a pet project I've just... loved since day 1?

12: What do you like least about this fic?

The non-linearity. NO, HEAR ME OUT. At the same time I love it because it's a cool narrative resource, it's also ASS to keep it organized. I have to make sure whoever is reading can understand more or less where these things connect, which means I have to connect them.... AND IT'S SO MUCH ASS. It's HARD AS FUCK. I love and hate it so much, I curse myself daily trying to keep track of what the fuck scenes and moments I've written.

#bah answers #abt: killshot #insert that mean girls gif #i just wait for people to ask me abt killshot so I can talk about it #also that Ice scene #god I want someone to read it so bad

3 notes · View notes

cristel-is-noveling · 1 year

Text

The September Plan (coming to you this August!)

After the Great July Burnout, I had to decide between taking time off, or focusing on other aspects of the novel. I ended up doing both. I took eight days off between August 1 and August 10, and I spent the time since then focusing on research.

No regrets, research needed to be done. Not only that, it needed to be sped up. There were whole plot points hanging entirely on research that I wasn't (and still am not) even close to finishing.

The break was also beneficial in that it let the boys in the basement do their job, and I came out of it not only full of new ideas, but also a whole new concept of what this novel is, not in terms of story, but as a speech event. Why is this story being told, and to whom? All very interesting stuff I may write about at some point.

But back to the point of this post: The idea was that, come September, I was going to Officially Come Back To Writing (I say "officially" because all this inspiration did turn into a few frenetic writing sessions). It just looked like a nice goalpost, you know? New month, new schedule.

Well, screw that.

I just finished one of my reference books today, and wouldn't you know it, this also looks like a nice goalpost. The new schedule is going into effect starting tomorrow, August 27.

🌹🌷🌻 The September Plan 🌻🌷🌹

Research, regrettably, will still take up the majority of my noveling time. Otherwise I'll never be done with it, and I'll keep writing myself into walls of underdeveloped worldbuilding. I already marked everything I could as to be decided, but there's no ignoring those holes anymore.

Thankfully though, this latest surge of inspiration means I have new stuff to work on, so writing can again be a part of the picture. I will, however, not impose a word-count goal on myself. I'll make up a dummy NaNo goal to log everything that does get written, but I won't be shooting for any particular number. The catch, however, is that I have to write every day, for a set amount of time.

So my daily six poms are going to look like this from now on:

🍅 Sprints 1 & 2: Reference Material

Craft books, history, psychology. The next book on my TBR is Spiral Dynamics, so I'll be going with that until something better comes across or I decide it's not relevant enough and DNF it.

🍅 Sprints 3 & 4: Writing

A whole hour. Seems sensible enough. I tend to be at my most awake during this time, and will probably be inspired after the first two sprints.

🍅 Sprints 5 & 6: Biology

This should theoretically be the priority, but there's only so much of this I can take in a single day. A little less attention-intensive than writing, though, so a nice way to come down from the session.

#journal entry #writer #writing #writing process #writing progress #journal #journaling #productive #writeblr #planning

1 note · View note

ivant1ll · 2 years

Text

Late Night In Shibuya

. . . Content Desc ~ ꒰⸝⸝◡.◡꒱

⤳ IM ON A BIT OF A WRITING GRIND AFTER SOMEONE LEFT SUCH A NICE REPOST OF THE LAST FIC SO LET'S GO!! (woohoo to productive days!!) . . . LOADING . . . ୭ .｡* ramuda amemura & reader raid a convenience store at 2 am " ｡.｡ this is a . . . regular ol' funky fic, no relationship, rather ramuda is your best friend !! .｡*ﾟ+ TW + info : none ! honestly after the last post i just felt like writing something chill, so. . . if you're expecting anything crazy to happen (other than literally ramuda being here) then that won't be happening this time !! WORD COUNT : 2010 (it's 1am why must i do this to myself)

BRO I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN FIXATED ON THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG !!! like, i love the idea of doing the funkiest stuff ever with ramuda, and honestly just being a menace<3 . . . BUT LET'S GET INTO IT !!! ENJOY ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎

People have always told you that you tend to be quite the night owl, always getting lost in new ideas or projects you felt you wanted to take on. Away from the world in your own little wonderland almost as you'd be in your room doing just about anything for hours at a time. It would just so happen to be the middle of the night when you suddenly noticed the time.

What did today's idea happen to be? Well, you had actually decided on something quite different to do. You had recently taken up a slight hobby of photographing streets and other things worth your attention all around Shibuya during your daily commute. You had gone home today and realized it would seem quite fun to draw some of the things you spotted.

"I don't have much experience with drawing but... maybe I can find some inspiration for a decent technique to use?" You begin pondering to yourself the many possibilities as to how this could turn out. In a blink of an eye, just as just about any other time, you were already in front of your apartment.

Once you finally arrive home, you place all of your photos down on your desk. Reaching for a pencil, you begin tapping it against the wood of the desk, or more or so your new lab where you plan on experimenting with any unique drawing ideas that pop into your head.

As you tinker away at your desk, as always, time passes by. You seem to be lost in your own little world, not letting even the slightest interruption in, one of which that you don't notice being your phone ringing. Without someone physically there to bring you out of your constant state of focus as you continue drawing. In the blink of an eye, the sun hides away over the tall building surrounding your apartment which is oh so small in scale, and the moon appears, shedding its light all over Shibuya.

You are suddenly snapped out of your trance by a slight vibration from your phone which had paused the music you were playing. You quickly blink as you're brought back to your senses, turning to the small device to your right, you pick it up and the screen lights up. You are then reminded of the true amount of time you were lost in your little wonderland. 2:34 AM...

"Oh damn... I must have lost track of time again" You sigh to yourself, but then let out a small chuckle, "I guess I shouldn't take so many pictures next time, wouldn't want to be sitting there for even longer if it wasn't for my phone. Speaking of that, who texted me?"

You proceed to open up the notifications bar to see you have not only received a few texts, but you just happened to miss 6 calls aswell... from none other than Ramuda. Ramuda always happened to be really persistent when he wanted your attention, him being one of your closest friends made it impossible to not show him the attention he is looking for. You can't even tell for yourself, even now years after meeting Ramuda why you took such an interest in him and became as close as you are now to the boy. You just know one thing for sure, he is definitely someone who catches your interest, something special about him that draws you in closer to want to be surrounded by such a presence.

"Crap! I hope he didn't need to tell me something super important... do I call him back even this late? I mean, he could totally still be up around now as he often is but I wouldn't want to be rude calling him so late..." You begin rambling to yourself before you are once again caught off guard by another notification on your phone, you choose to read it.

Ramuda☆

Y/N!!! R u like dead or something??? I'm bored soooo.... (assuming you're up lol) I'M OUTSIDE YOUR HOUSE!! Come outside if ur awake \[^◡^]/

You had no choice but to be at the mercy of the tiny menace, especially when he was bored. You were no stranger of course to the amazing adventures that you and Ramuda could get up too when you both had too much energy and too much time to pair.

"So that's what he wanted... guess I shouldn't keep him waiting, it's not like I have anything better to do" You think to yourself as you begin to get a sweater on to fight off the slight evening breeze. To not keep Ramuda waiting, you open your windows to look down on the sidewalk, where you'd assume Ramuda would be waiting. Just as you thought, opening the window and feeling a slight cold breeze hit you, you spot the pink haired boy standing below your window, lollipop in hand.

"Hey Ramuda!" You call out to get his attention.

He suddenly perks his head up to look at you, and his face lights up yet... he seems to have yet another mischievous look on his face.

"Y/n, hey~! You took sooo long, leaving little ol' me out here in the dead of night, how mean~." He teases at you.

"Well then, 'little ol' you' should have just come inside and knocked on the door!" You return with another tease as you then return inside to quickly slip your shoes on and leave to catch up wtih Ramuda. After finally making it downstairs, you are greeted by a sudden hug from the pink haired boy,

"You seem mushy tonight Ramuda, something up? ... Why are you even out at this time?" You ask him.

"Well... I can't say for sure why I'm up! I tried thinking about things to do for such a loooong time, but it's like I couldn't get any ideas. I just cant handle being so bored so, I thought me and you can go run to the store and get some snacks~! You were inside your room all day doing things, no?" Ramuda tilts his head and asks, though he probably already knows the answer.

"Heh, yep... you know me!" Suddenly, you get an idea. "Hey Ramuda, you draw a lot of sketches when you're designing new outfits, you should help me out some time to learn how to sketch. I've been meaning to try and learn more about drawing before I stepped in head first into such a big project, so maybe you can help!" You give him a slight smile as he smirks in response.

"Well then, why didn't you just ask me sooner! I'll get around to helping ya with it, promise~! Now come onnn, we can't just stand around here forever y/n!" Ramuda pops the lollipop back in his mouth and he tugs on your wrist to lead you over to the convenience store. Unable to really say much to the unexpected gesture, you simply go along with it and you too begin your journey. Meaningless chatter wouldn't meant much on your on or with someone else, but it always seems to be the case that when the meaningless chatter was with Ramuda, it would always go crazy in one way or another. Whether it would turn into another "adventure" or some of the funniest moments ever, there would never be a dull moment talking with Ramuda even about the simplest things. The fact that both of your personalities went together so well made it even better, Ramuda's more loud vivacious personality with you more laid back, yet still equally talkative.

"Ramuda... do you not get tired skipping all the way down the streets? Let alone walking-" You say as you let out a few tired pants.

"Well, I guess you could say I have a decent amount of energy! Maybe you're just a lazy couch potato~ Y/n, all that sitting around doesn't get tiring at any point?" Ramuda asks followed by a slight snicker.

"Well, I suppose so, maybe you should take me to places more to cure me of being such a 'couch potato', at least I don't spend all day eating more sweets than actually food!" You make a jab that Ramuda is quite used to hearing from people.

"Well well y/n, you aren't my mom! I'll eat what I want~! Not like it's hurting you is it?" He laughs once again giving a look where you can't tell if your comment genuinely annoyed him or if he is just playing around as always.

"Well, I suppose I can't control you, where even is this store? We've been walking for quite a bit, I was assuming you would have taken me to the one closest to my place..." Scared to know how much more walking can be in store, you ask.

Just as you ask, Ramuda once again grabs at your wrist and brings you to turn a sudden corner, catching you off guard once again. "We're actually here now! I heard this store has much more main brands of snacks, so I thought it would be best to go over here! Assuming... you brought your wallet right? Cause well, I won't be paying for you if you didn't y/n~!" He looks at you briefly as he gives an almost grand reveal of quite a small convenience store.

"Well.. knowing what can happen when I go places with you, yes.. I do have my wallet.." You give a playful smirk. "So... what are you gonna buy in here?"

Ramuda gives the same almost annoyed yet silly look ever, "Y/n.. is that even a question? Candy, duh~! What else would I be here for! Now come on come on come on!" It almost seems like he jumps as he grabs onto you once more. As grown as Ramuda is, it is still quite funny watching how excited or determined he can get when presented with something he wants. It's almost as if he jumps at the opportunity faster than anybody could even process it, which is of course why you're in this situation. An as always excited at the idea of sweets Ramuda has pulled you out of your house in the middle of the night for a snack run... it's not like you could complain though.

In the blink of an eye, the classic ding of the door alarm goes off and you both step into the store, greeted by an as always uninterested employee. Ramuda's eyes light up as he rushes over to grab just about any treat possible.

"Ramuda?! Don't other people shop here too.. you're.. literally taking everything.." You ask only being able to ask to yourself "What the hell is this boy doing?"

Ramuda giggles as he responds with a devilish smirk, "They should've gotten to the snacks first then~! First come first serve is how it works y/n! Someone as cute as me deserves a nice snack anyway, pass me the chocolate bar over there!"

"This menace... what have I gotten myself into..." You think to yourself. "Well then.. whatever you say Ramuda, I can't really complain. The little convenience store spree continues, almost feeling surreal how much energy you both suddenly got going crazy in the store buying things. In the blink of an eye, Ramuda is carrying more candy than you can count and you are both at the register. The anticipation of trying to find out "How much will he even spend..." finally hits you. At this point you can do nothing more than gulp, yet Ramuda has the same content smile as if he won't be paying for all of this.

"That'll be 5,450 yen (about 40$ USD), you two got a party coming up? Pretty sure Halloween isnt for another like 5 months..." The cashier asks trying to process how someone could buy so much candy at once.

"Nope.. just hungry!" Ramuda replies as confident as ever.

"Wh- how the hell can he say that so confidently? Beats me..."

You both pay, even Ramuda to your slight shock. Your return to your apartment begins. The pink haired boy begins skipping his way ahead of you, bags in his hand which would make constant rustling sounds from all the contents inside.

"Well then, don't you seem satisfied. Convenience store raid successful?" You smirk as you look towards your friend.

Ramuda just smiles, a smile you're oh so used to seeing yet it always means the same thing. "Yep, success! Thanks for coming with me y/n~" Ramuda had a fun time hanging out with you.

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic #hypmic ramuda #ramuda x reader #brainrot #ramuda #ramuda amemura #fling posse

72 notes · View notes

rizubaby · 3 years

Text

Polyamory | Mondo, Leon, Shuichi & Rantaro.

genre ; nsfw headcanons.

request ; some NSFW headcanons for Mondo & Leon and Shuichi & Rantaro in a polyamorous relationship with the reader.

tags ; gn!reader, boyfriend(s) experience, polyamory, mentions of jealousy/slight competition, rough sex, praising, degradation, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of sex toys, vulgar language.

note ; since the request didn't specify, I went with a gender neutral reader to make it inclusive for all. Hope that's ok! Also, AHHH I had so much fun writing this!! I immediately got some inspiration for Mondo and Leon, so I couldn't wait to start writing! In any case, I did my very best and I hope you like it. ♡

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

Mondo and Leon

Honestly, being in a polyamorous relationship with these two is so chaotic omg

I mean, they love each other A LOT, but there's some unspoken rivalry between the two of them

They love you most of all, so they'll do anything to get your love and affection

It just so happens that these two can get a little jealous fairly easily, even of each other (guys, you're boyfriends. Come ON)

Both of them are show-offs, especially Leon. So when you spend some quality time with him or show him some love he'll tease the hell out of Mondo, and it pisses him off so much lmao (because he wants some love too!)

This happens a lot, mind you, but it almost always ends up with you guys having sex again lol

Even so, you're very close and in a wonderful and loving relationship

Leon's love language is quality time (as you might've guessed), and Mondo's is definitely physical touch. The guy is all over you every chance he gets

He likes slapping your ass the most hehe

Oh, and the sex is GREAT. You have nothing to complain about in that regard let me tell you-

While you do have sex just one on one with either one of them, you definitely have threesomes the most, duh

They're both very rough when they want to be, and it is so hot, but they also balance each other out wonderfully

When Leon's slowly making his way inside you (which can be quite painful sometimes), Mondo's always hushing you and giving you soft kisses all over to soothe you

Or when Mondo's mercilessly ramming into you from behind while he's pulling your hair, Leon's underneath you either playing with your nipples or caressing your stomach and planting hickeys everywhere

Like I said, b a l a n c e

They love penetrating you both at once, though it doesn't happen very often (since they're like,, literally ripping you in half)

Ooooh, blowjobs too! Imagine sucking one off while you're stroking the other, you're all hot messes by the end of it

They're both very lust-filled individuals, so there's usually not a ton of foreplay before the main course

BUT IT'S A FUCKING BUFFET

Funnily enough, the slight competition these two have doesn't translate to bedroom activities, as they're too focused on making you feel good and giving you tons of orgasms (which usually ends with them accidentally overstimulating you lol)

Leon likes to watch a lot too; while Mondo's eating you out or fucking you hard, he likes to stroke himself and watch as you drown in the feeling of pure extacy

Seriously, the faces and sounds you make is enough to make the both of them cum instantly

He likes to get himself so worked up, so when it's finally his turn he can go all out and it feels fucking amazing

Mondo loooooooves making out with you. Yeah, it's that simple

The feeling of your soft lips on his, your tongue, the soft whimpers you let out while you're kissing, fuck

When making love with you, he'll drunkily plant sloppy kisses all over you and cover your entire body in hickeys

Lots of biting and dirty talk too

"F-Fuck, you feel so damn good baby... You ready to cum for me?"

THE MOANS THESE DUDES PRODUCE ARE TOP TIER

Like seriously, you'll get weak to your knees in an instant

Also, Leon likes to cum on your face or chest area the most, while Mondo prefers cumming inside :)

Mondo is actually really good at aftercare, he's so caring and gentle (especially after some wild ass sex)

He takes good care of you and asks you every 2 seconds what you want/need

Leon likes to lay there for a little bit and recover for a bit next to you, gently caressing your face and praising you

When everybody has rested for a bit, you'll shower or bathe together (and probably fall asleep on the couch afterwards)

Rantaro and Shuichi

Such good boyfriends, awe

The amount of sappy shit these two do and say on the daily is almost overwhelming

They're like, so in love with you and with each other,, I'm soft

Shuichi is the type to take care of you a lot and helps you out with everything, be it housework, cooking (oh, you love cooking together!) or anything else

Rantaro is the type of guy to show up randomly after work with flowers for the both of you, he's so sweet

Their love languages are definitely acts of service and quality time, respectively

They both are very big on words of affirmation too; they want you to feel loved and appreciated

SUCH GOOD BOYFRIENDS OMGGHFHDSJF

Just like Mondo and Leon, they balance each other out amazingly, it's literally heaven on earth

Shuichi is very much a switch (we know this), and Rantaro is such a great soft dom

When it comes to sex, all you really do is have threesomes because you all enjoy it the most with all three of you and it wouldn't feel as good with one of you not present

Sex is often very romantic and sensual, but there's plenty of room for rough fucking as well

Shuichi definitely loves to praise you and be praised, his words are so kind and loving

"I love you so much sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this..."

Rantaro loves praising too, but when he's in the mood for some really hardcore sex, he really gets off on degrading you (but like, in a sexy way, not a mean way)

"Who are my little naughty sluts, hm~?"

Rantaro has a really broad spectrum of kinks, he's into a lot of things

Whatever you're into, he's ready to go

He owns a few toys, so if you're comfortable with that he'll add some extra spice in the mix every now and then

(So watch out for being tied up or having a vibrator stimulate you until the batteries run out)

Though the sex on it's own with these two is already fucking incredible

Shuichi is such a pleaser. He'll do anything for you; eat you out, caress you, kiss you, edge you, etc

Overstimulating you is secretly something they both love to do, so be prepared for that

again, the SOUNDS THESE TWO MAKE-- *faints*

Rantaro's raspy grunts and Shuichi's soft moans are so fucking good together, my god

You always always ALWAYS have at least three orgasms when you have sex with these two, because they just love seeing you writhe and squirm afterwards

Rantaro loves cumming inside your mouth. God he's so naughty we love to see it

Shuichi doesn't really mind where he cums, the sight of you enjoying his seed anywhere is already enough for him and makes him weak to his knees

Aftercare is so wonderful with these two, omg

You'll all be snuggled up against each other and kissing each other lovingly after another intense lovemaking session

They'll keep telling you how much they love you and that you did very well, you mean so so much to them

Rantaro usually takes care of you and Shuichi after a particularly rough session, getting some towels and a damp cloth for any scratches/bruises/etc.

I mean, those rings are bound to leave some marks, especially when he's been very rough

He'll get you some water too (because hydration is important!) and then come back to cuddle up next to you again, slowly drifting asleep in each other's arms.

#danganronpa smut #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa v3 #dr1 #drv3 #mondo owada #leon kuwata #shuichi saihara #rantaro amami #mondo owada x reader #leon kuwata x reader #rantaro amami x reader #shuichi saihara x reader

525 notes · View notes

monkey-d-addy9000 · 3 years

Text

Hey~ some young EraserMic fanfics.

First of all, sorry for my english, it's not my native language

Since I don't find many young Erasermic fanfics, I decided to share with you some of the ones I liked the most and, who knows, with this encouragement, some writers feel inspired and decide to write some more? I don't know, I think it's just an appeal from a disaster girl.

Anyway~

Summary: As far as camping goes, it’s probably within Yamada’s Top Three Least Favorite Things To Do list.

But maybe this camping trip wouldn’t turn out so bad, so long as he has Aizawa by his side.

Second part:

Hizashi apologizing to Aizawa for making him insecure. Read Murphy's law first to understand.

Written by @tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land

----------------------------------------------------------

Summary: “I thought you might wanna hang around someone who didn’t hate your guts!” Yamada yells. “But I guess you just get off on everyone hating you!”

“I don’t care what people think about me,” Aizawa hisses back, just as coldly.

Yamada's relationship with Aizawa is on thin ice, to say the least. Too bad class trips, technical mishaps, and simulated natural disasters don't consider personal vendettas when putting a damper on your day.

I highly recommend this story as it is a twist of feelings and emotions. I could feel on my skin every sensation I read. All the effort the author puts into their stories is almost magical.

Written by @tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land

----------------------------------------------------------

5 times Hizashi drops everything to take Shōta somewhere where he can rest comfortably, and 1 time Shōta picks everything up to allow Hizashi some repose

Hizashi being cute and careful with his "friend".

Written by @tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land

----------------------------------------------------------

I smiled on every line of this story. Just two cute boys being cute.

Written by @ill-go-with-that-then

----------------------------------------------------------

Just a warning: it's hot.

----------------------------------------------------------

Summary: 8-year-old Hitoshi Shinsou is Quirkless—at least, that’s what his foster dads have been told by the orphanage. Hitoshi never speaks, he signs, although there were no mentioned disabilities or medical conditions on his file to explain this. He’s seemingly capable of speaking, but it’s a mystery as to why he doesn’t. One day, however, a ruthless gang member breaks into the Aizawa-Yamada residence, intent on revenge for Shouta's capture of their brother, and upon seeing his foster dads in trouble, Hitoshi is left with no choice but to reveal his ‘villainous’ Quirk to save them.

I was so moved by this story that I had to reread it 4 times in less than a month to relive every good feeling that was transmitted to me.

----------------------------------------------------------

“What are you, scared, Aizawa?” Kayama leered, leaning in too close and poking at his side.

Shouta swatted her hand away. “Why would I be scared?” he scoffed. “They’re just mirrors.”

Hizashi fidgeted, leaning closer in a way that would be imperceptible if Shouta weren’t ridiculously over-aware of him. “The place looked deserted when we came in… maybe we should leave? We could still make it to the party!”

“We can’t leave without solving the maze,” Shouta said, irritably.

Don't trust your eyes...

Ma babys are scared and in love

Written by @ill-go-with-that-then

----------------------------------------------------------

He tries to put all the enthusiasm he feels into it, to reassure Shouta that this step in their friendship is wanted and welcome.

It seems to work. Shouta’s shoulders relax, and he grins up at Hizashi, wiping his hair out of his eyes. He misses a piece, and Hizashi has to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from giving in to the strange impulse to tuck it behind Shouta’s ear.

It’s different, after that.

Another point of view.

Ah, young love. These boys are so soft. I can't handle that anymore. If you want to scream because you can't handle the amount of cuteness, you must read this.

Written by @ill-go-with-that-then

----------------------------------------------------------

One In A Billion summary: Mic as a weapon is too much to handle. Aizawa as a meister is difficult to get along with. What will happen when these two odd souls are forced into taking on one of the names at the top of

Death's hit list?

It's Soul Eater AU time!!

Clarity summary: Mic had his secrets, this Shouta knew. Even after all this time, when their souls resonated, there were places Shouta felt he couldn’t go, places Mic blocked from him. Shouta had these places within his own soul, too, but whenever something was truly important, Mic always seemed to know how to gently tug the truth out of him. Shouta, unfortunately, had no such similar tact, and usually he didn’t need to; Mic was open about so much.

How bad could Mic's secrets really be?

I was fine, until Yami quotes the song Clarity, and Yamada enjoying the song claiming to remember Shota when he hears it? I almost screamed. I love this fanfic from the bottom of my soul.

Written by @yamiheart and @nartothelar

----------------------------------------------------------

Those were the cutest young Erasermic stories I've read. I just wanted to share with you a little bit of my daily dose of love.

And yes, I reread them every day because they are the ones I liked the most. It's so well written that it really makes me feel every emotion as I read this.

Oh! And I will be updating as I find new good fanfics

#erasermic #bnha #present mic #eraserhead #yamada hizashi #aizawa shōta #Erasermic fanfic #young erasermic #maizawa #bnha fanfic #shinsou headcanons #shinsou hitoshi #dadzawa #parent erasermic #Soul eater au

144 notes · View notes

felassan · 4 years

Link

Article: ‘Mass Effect 3 Could Have Had A Completely Different Ending’

The Mass Effect 3 ending has been a controversial subject for nine years. As it turns out, it could have been completely different.

This article is part of TheGamer’s Mass Effect week.

Highlights:

This [the RGB endings] wasn’t always the case. According to Mass Effect 3 writer Chris Hepler, the end of Shepard’s story could have been radically different.

Hepler started working on Mass Effect right at the beginning. Although he wasn’t formally part of the team yet, he did additional design, chipped in for playtesting, and offered a fair amount of writing feedback during development of the first game. He had a much more active role on Mass Effect 2, writing the Codex entries, the Galaxy Map, and spearheading the Cerberus Daily News initiative. By the time Mass Effect 3 rolled around, Hepler was writing EDI, Thane, Citadel missions, and was generally considered to be the project’s “loremaster.”

“The ending relies on space magic, and the lead writer, lead gameplay designer, and executive producer all just embraced that and owned it from the get-go,” Hepler tells me. “‘Any sufficiently advanced technology’ and all that. They wanted and got a really big decision that affects the whole galaxy. If you give it a moment's thought, none of the three options are perfectly moral or the ‘right’ answer for everyone. Destroy may not solve the problem of AI and organics; Control rewards the Reapers; even Synthesis, which is harder to get than the other two and sounds like it'd be permanent peace, basically violates the entire galaxy's bodily autonomy without consent. So that part, I think, works.

“Did it satisfy the fans? Hell, no, not at first, and I found a lot of the criticism to be legitimate. The Extended Cut gave us a second chance to make an ending that acknowledged many more of the players' choices, and was about as good as we could reasonably make given the decisions we'd already made. I felt a lot better about myself and us as a team after the EC came out.”

Hepler explains that fans had observed several hints throughout the trilogy that pointed in completely different directions. For example, there are aspects of the lore that actually lean towards the Citadel species allying with the Reapers in order to collectively tackle a dark energy anomaly, as opposed to the Reapers remaining as the Big Bad right up until credits roll. Hepler confirms that there are explicit lore details that lean into this idea, but that he never personally heard about capitalizing on them. Remember, this is coming from the Mass Effect loremaster - if he says there is lore to back up a dark energy anomaly that only the Reapers can save us from, it certainly exists.

“Now, what would I have done?” Hepler asks. “I wouldn't have done space magic at all. I planned to write three Codex entries on the Crucible rather than one, reflecting on what scientists think it is at first, what it appears to be once construction has really made progress, and a third detailing how it will kill the Reapers, readable right before you return to Earth.”

Hepler explains that he wanted to take inspiration from Nancy Kress’ novel, Probability Moon, in order to have the Crucible use a strong nuclear force as a weapon. Kress’ superweapon is designed to create a massive burst of energy that is completely harmless for objects that have a low atomic weight, like organic flesh made of carbon chains. This means that the vast majority of Citadel species would be virtually unaffected by a blast from this weapon.

Objects with a much higher atomic number, however, would be annihilated by the beam. This weapon is constructed in such a way that it emits life-killing radiation for anything made up of heavy metals. “So cybernetic creatures like the Reapers and husks would have their organic parts fried because they're right next to the heavy metals, but the organic creatures a safe distance away, like a civilian population, would be just fine,” Hepler says.

“The rebuilt Shepard, who had a fair bit of cybernetics, would die heroically, but that was always likely to be on the cards. In talking with Ann Lemay, another writer on the project, we theorized that the metal most likely to be the atomic weight cut-off-point was niobium, which today is used in piercings and surgical implants because it doesn't rust and you can embed it in flesh without ill effects. It's even blue when exposed to oxygen, like the glowing blue husks we've been fighting since [the first] Mass Effect. So it would make sense as a building block for the Reapers and their ultimate weakness.”

So, what happened? Unfortunately, Hepler never got to pitch his ending. The design leads moved lightning quick with their Destroy/Control/Synthesis trifecta, to the point that the whole premise had been approved before Hepler even got around to finishing his second Codex entry. As a result, he hadn’t got a full description of how this pertained to the entire galaxy yet - although looking at it now, it could have borrowed from the best bits of each ending. The Reapers would be neutralized, but the tech would be there. Given that Mass Effect is largely about the coexistence of humans and cybernetic creatures, it would also have had an impact on other aspects of the universe - what would happen to EDI?

“I [also] had some concern that Nancy Kress might notice and sue us if I didn't do my homework,” Hepler says. “And there was no time to do that homework, which would be me telling all the leads to hold off for a week while I exchanged a crap-ton of emails with my subject matter experts. ‘Sufficiently advanced technology indistinguishable from magic’ was far easier and had much more project momentum. “I recycled some of the strong-force-as-a-weapon tech into the Reaper infantry weapon, the Blackstar. In retrospect, I wish I'd spoken up more, or thought it all out faster, but them's the breaks.”

As well as Hepler’s own ending - which obviously never made it into the final game, despite sounding as if it had a lot more hard science behind it - Hepler is a big fan of the popular Indoctrination Theory. However, he was pretty open about the fact that this wasn’t something BioWare consciously designed.

“The Indoctrination Theory is a really interesting theory, but it's entirely created by the fans,” Hepler says. “While we made some of the ending a little trippy because Shepard is a breath away from dying and it's entirely possible there's some subconscious power to the kid's words, we never had the sort of meetings you'd need to have to properly seed it through the game.

“We weren't that smart. By all means, make mods and write fanfic about it, and enjoy whatever floats your boat, because it's a cool way to interpret the game. But it wasn't our intention. We didn't write that.”

[source]

#bioware #mass effect #video games #long post #longpost

461 notes · View notes