#// but i'm finally getting their bios done

[quitedisastrous]

i wish i could just do nothing for a few days straight. maybe even just sleep for a few days straight. sooo excited for constant misery over the next 20 days

ranting in the tags. i would just scroll past if i were you

[kaiowut99]

Poor Misawa, you only get to read his bio in TF2 and in TFSP [shown] when you scroll down enough to show you care :')

And then you read it and it hypes him up with stuff that's true about him, only for it to mention that he gets neglected 😔

[And it's the exact same bio in TF2 too, blanks and all (though the European TF2 localization upped the blank line count from 7 to 11 for some reason, lol). The American TF2 localization (which uses "you would expect to be somewhere like Duel Academy" where I use "fits naturally in this empty space") removed the blank lines, but being faithful as I am with this, I think it's worth keeping still because it does make sense it was intentional and not a bug, lol.

[thelostrainbowthenovel]

Bios: The Feorian Rulers

- Ruling King Vulcan Von Brandt

. Age: 47

. Gender: male

. Sexuality: straight

. Family: parents, 1 older sister, 1 niece, Ignatius(oldest child), Hestia(second oldest child), Flint(middle child), Ashton(youngest child)

. Relationships: Soleil(wife)

. Abilities: fire magic(natural), hand-to-hand combat

. Physical Appearance: tall with a muscular build, short and slightly curly brown hair pushed back with spiky bangs, tan skin, dark brown eyes, several battle scars all over

Ruling king of the Kingdom of Feor, husband to Soleil, and father to Ignatius, Hestia, Flint, and Ashton. Although he is the second-born, his older sister never cared to take over the throne for herself so the role as heir was given to him during his early adolescence. He was always taught the ways of being a strong and capable leader as a prince, so while his new position as heir took some time getting used to, he accepted it gratefully as he always wanted to do best by his people. Logical when it comes to thinking, and preferring to rule with a firm approach, he comes off to some as close-minded and cold in his rule. While this is true to some extent, he is a lot more open-minded and caring towards his people than some would think, as he will advocate for new laws if he sees it as important or necessary. When he became of age he followed in the footsteps of the kings before him and joined the army, rising up in the ranks and serving as a captain during a series of battles that almost escalated into war when he was in his twenties. Fighting closely alongside him during this time was his wife Soleil and his best friend Idris Brenton, with the latter now being a general and his right-hand man when it comes to current military tactics and decisions. Although he was originally arranged to Soleil, they knew each other as children and made sure to get to know each other better during the course of their engagement, to the point they were genuinely in love when they married as adults. He may come off as stern and intimidating, but he softens up the most around his family, caring for their well-being and safety above all-else as he does not want to lose any of them for any reason.

- Queen Consort Soleil Von Brandt

. Age: 45

. Gender: female

. Sexuality: straight

. Family: parents, 2 older brothers, 2 younger brothers, 5 nephews, 1 niece, Ignatius(oldest child), Hestia(second oldest child), Flint(middle child), Ashton(youngest child)

. Relationships: Vulcan(husband)

. Abilities: flame magic(natural, depleted/no longer), hand-to-hand combat, sword-fighting

. Physical Appearance: tall with a fit, hourglass build, wavy and waist-length, side-swept fiery red hair fading into orange and yellow, fair skin, gold eyes, ears double pierced, large burn scar going from her lower-left cheek down all the way to her wrist

Queen consort of the Kingdom of Feor, wife to Vulcan, and mother to Ignatius, Hestia, Flint, and Ashton. Soleil grew up as the only daughter of one of Feor's most notable noble families, having four brothers. She did not despise being the only girl of her siblings however, as she got along fairly well with all of her brothers growing up. She knew Vulcan when they were children, back when he was just the prince and they were not arranged yet to be married. She followed in her families footsteps and joined the army when she was of age, fighting alongside her two older brothers and Vulcan. When they were both over the age of sixteen she and Vulcan were arranged to be married, doing so several months after she turned eighteen. She continued her work as a soldier for many years, even after having her first two children, before one fateful battle happened that not only gave her her burn scar, but also completely depleted her of all of her once powerful and strong magic. With no magic left, she took to wielding daggers and swords to defend herself with, being her daughter's first teacher on how to properly wield and fight with her own swords when she was big enough to learn. She also developed both PTSD and mild depression from her accident, that while she has been doing much better with her mental health in recent years, she still has her struggles with unwanted flashbacks and nightmares of the incident that have her feeling down for a long time whenever they pop up. She is a mature and wise queen, at first having a little trouble expressing herself and her emotions when she was younger, but has grown to become a lot more lively since then, even a little flirty to get her husband's attention now-and-then. While she is married into the royal family, she still has a good amount of influence. Nowadays she works on maintaining a strong presence as a role model for those in similar positions as herself when she was younger, that despite having a horrible accident that takes away a vital part of yourself, that there's other options in life out there to continue standing strong despite what others may say about you.

[galaxietm]

i feel like i need to work on getting consistently active here again lol, i miss writing more consistently and interacting with ya'll here 😔

life is starting to?? slowly get under control again (after the fucking roller coaster my life has been for a year now! wowie it's barely been a year since the ex-roommate fuckery really kicked off, maybe i'll put up a reflective post about that in a month or two lol) but now the holiday season is approaching, meaning i'll probably be working a bunch more (ahh the joys of working in the file maintenance for my store lol)

muse pages are slowly being worked on, been working on a lot of oc bios and pages this month since i made it a personal goal to get as many made / worked on and possibly finished this month as i could. after i get more finished, i'll finally wrap up work on the carr.d and share the link. (not sure how long it'll take tho lol)

[autumnoakes]

this course is pissing me offffffff :(

[perfectqueenfan]

Having the egg right at the opening at the start of your work shift, so you have to hold the egg in so you can finally deliver the egg back home.

*Sorry folks it's gonna be a long one. I got a good writing flow and idea for this.*

I knew that going into work today was probably not the smartest idea, but I needed the money and had signed on for a double shift. I started early, driving to the bakery I worked at around 7:45am. A few months ago I had signed on to help a friend out with a science project for one of their classes at our local college, which ended up being something a lot more out of the ordinary than I had initially thought.

"Human egg incubation. But not like a human egg, you have plenty of those. I found these alien eggs on the black market and need a test subject to see if these are even real. Can you help me please?" And me, being weak when it came to them, said yes. It has been 4 months since we inserted one of the eggs into my womb, at the time it was as small as a pea. They were a light green color, slightly glowing. To a normal eye, you wouldn't notice any difference with me. But I could see the beginning of a bump forming, the slight distended look of where my womb is, looking like I had just a little too much to eat. The bump was firm if I pressed against it, and I could often feel the egg shift when I moved around. It had definitely grown, I'm unsure by how much but enough for me to feel it's weight at all times.

When I pulled into the staff parking lot, I felt a sudden shift in my womb, more intense than the usual movement. Running a hand across the tiny bump, I felt to make sure that nothing was breaking before heading into work. Greeting my co-worker Annie, I moved to grab my apron when I felt a twinge deep in my belly. Placing my hand against the bump again, I felt the egg shift in a harsher way than normal. Weird, but it's not gonna stop me from getting my job done, I thought to myself as I tied on my apron and began to open up the bakery.

It wasn't even an hour into open when I had to excuse myself for a bio break, quickly rushing to the bathroom as another wave of pain washed over me. As soon as I was in a stall I unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down enough to expose me stomach and underwear. Looking at my bump, I noticed it was a bit more pronounced and I could feel the egg shift again uncomfortably, holding back a groan at the feeling. But the pain wouldn't let up, a near wiggling feeling from how much the egg was shifting again the walls of my womb. Then it all came to a crest when I felt a pop like feeling, a small rush of what seems to be blue slime coming from between my legs and soaking my underwear.

"Oh, fuck me." I cursed under my breath as I grabbed some toilet paper to quickly wipe away what would be best described as my waters, really it was a mucus sac the egg had developed around itself to keep it safe. Once I was cleaned enough, I pulled my pants back up and quickly rushed to the break room to grab my phone, texting my friend that the egg was on its way. That's when it dawned on me, I had signed up for a double shift today. Realizing that I had to stall the birth of this egg as much as possible, I put back on my apron and walked back to the counter with determination: make it thought this shift without having this egg.

Not even halfway though my first shift, I realized that was easier said than done. The egg, which turns out was massive, had managed to fully get into my birth canal and weighing heavily on my hips. I was saving my groans until I was in the pantry or couldn't be heard over the espresso machines. The worst part though, is that I was so turned on by it. The hiding, the weight and feeling of the egg shifting lower and lower, and nobody else knew that I was using all my mental strength not to give in and push the massive egg out of me. Moving throughout the motions of making yet another caramel macchiato, I bent down to grab another carton of milk when the egg shot forward, resting just behind my lips. I let out a startled yelp at the feeling, Annie giving me a weird look at my sudden outburst. "Hit my head." Was all I said and she gave a nod of understanding before returning to the customer.

By 3pm, I was sweating, constantly denying my bodies cry to push practically every minute as I moved around the bakery. My confident walk had turned into a slow, almost waddle. It felt like there was a bowling ball between my legs, and with every step the feeling of the egg shifting right at my entrance was torture. But I couldn't push, not here and definitely not right before the after-school rush of students. Standing behind the counter taking orders, a regular walked up and began chatting about her annoying professor. I felt myself relax a bit, swinging into our normal conversation. Biggest mistake. Not even realizing, my body began pushing, feeling the sudden stretch of my hole making me whimper out in shock and pain. Without apologizing, I rushed to the bathroom and quickly undid my pants again, pulling my underwear down too. I could see the tiniest bit of hard, glowing green shell peaking between my lips. Running my fingers against it, I moaned out as I pushed it back in, my body protesting as I did. Once I felt safe enough, I returned to work, only for all the progress I had just undone to return, feeling my opening begin to spread again just a bit as the egg slowly shifted downward.

Finally, after two hours of feeling the egg ever so slowly stretch me open, I left work for the day and as quickly as I could rushed to my car. The second I sat down, the angle from the seat and my jeans pushed the egg back into me a bit, causing me to groan at the feeling. I pressed a hand to my throbbing cunt, feeling the slight outline of the egg though my pants. It wasn't crowning, but it was getting close. Driving home was almost as bad as working, the constant burning and subconscious pushing but the egg not being able to move due to my underwear and jeans.

I managed to get into my home with only a slight waddle, not being able to fully close me legs with the giant egg weighing between them. I didn't even try to get to my room, heading to the couch in the living room and striping off every article of clothing on my body. I pressed one hand over my pussy again, feeling the egg against my palm. It felt like it was tearing me open, at least the size of an ostrich egg, and hand more of a bumpy texture. I whimpered for hours as I squatted and tried to push the egg out of my cunt, playing with my clit to try and ease the slide out with arousal. Around 11pm, I finally got the egg to crown, crying out as it felt like I was being split open and simultaneously orgasming, managing to have the egg pop and slip free of my poor, overstretched cunt.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

apologizing with a kiss - Joel Miller

900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts

bio : This story is part of the 900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts.

person ordering: @underneath-the-sky-again

warnings : a little bit of angst, fluff, kissing, some bad words, blood

[my masterlist]

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

You kicked open the bathroom door and ran inside. Rushing to take off your jacket and shirt, you managed to throw a few other things on the ground, but you didn't have time to think about it. When you finally got out of your clothes, you glanced at your shoulder.

It didn't look good. A large shard of glass had pierced the layer of clothing and dug into your arm, leaving an ugly bleeding wound. Blood was dripping down your arm to your fingertips and dripping onto the tiles.

With your free hand, you turned on the tap and wet a cloth to wash everything. You had to quickly dress it before...

"Baby? Are you home?"

"Fuck!" you hissed to yourself. Joel was supposed to be with Tommy, but he must have changed his plans since he showed up at home at this hour. It was already dark outside, but it wasn't that late.

"Baby?" a familiar voice sounded at the door and you heard a quiet knock "Is everything okay? I thought someone was running up the stairs."

"Yeah! I'm okay." you lied, quickly glancing at the cloth that was dirty with your blood "I'll take a quick shower and I'll be right back."

"You were gone longer than you said, I was starting to worry." Joel fell silent after a moment "Is there...blood on the floor? Baby?"

"It's nothing, Joel. I just..."

The door opened before you could say anything else. Joel was looking at you, frowning. He was wearing a white T-shirt and sweatpants, he must have never left the house and had just holed himself up in his workshop.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, approaching and carefully taking your arm in his hands, he looked closely at the wound "You couldn't have done that on patrol, right? Where were you?"

You couldn't lie, not to Joel. Even though you had already lied to him, saying that you were going on a regular patrol instead of a friend. You took a deep breath.

"I was at that old shopping mall. I had to do something..."

"Have you lost your mind?" Joel hissed angrily "I told you not to go there alone."

"Peter was with me. Nothing happened to us! It is just a scratch." You replied quickly "I bumped into a glass case and..."

"Come with me."

Without a word, you and Joel went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed. After a few moments, he appeared with a first aid kit and started professionally dressing your wound. Still silent, still angry. You felt the emotions radiating from him, but you hadn't done anything wrong. You wanted to help and...

"Ouch!" you hissed when he put an alcohol swab on your wound "That hurts."

Still silence. You gritted your teeth and decided not to show that you were in pain. It wasn't until Joel tied the bandage and the dressing was ready that you dared to speak.

"I had to go there. I know I hid it from you and I'm sure it seems stupid..."

He put the first aid kit down and looked at you. “Why did you lie to me?” he asked. Damn, you would rather have him yell at you than look at you with such disappointment.

But you knew what you did was right and if it weren't for the accident, Joel would never have found out and you could have done something for him. The little lie was necessary.

"Because you would never have let me go there alone." you finally blurted out "And I wanted to do something for you!"

"Oh!" Joel raised his eyebrows ironically "Did you want to get yourself killed or something? Especially for me?"

"No!" you snorted "I wanted to find this for you."

You pulled a small package out of your back pocket and tossed it onto his lap. He looked at it in shock. Dark eyes widened in surprise.

"You said you needed new guitar strings. And I saw this music store in the mall and thought... I wanted to do something for you, Joel! If it weren't for that stupid display case..."

Your words seemed to finally reach him, because he turned the package over in his large hands, and then looked back at you.

"I'm sorry, I was..." Joel began, not even knowing what words should leave his mouth, he was too surprised.

"I wanted to do something for you, because you're always thinking about me and Ellie. I really didn't want to lie. I just didn't tell you exactly where I was going... You'd say it wasn't necessary, that you didn't need those strings, but in reality you'd give a lot to have them. So I went there and..."

A warm hand closed over yours and squeezed it gently. You lifted your head, looking at Joel in surprise. He was smiling at you, there was no trace of his earlier anger.

“You’re going to have a heart attack one day, but… I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” he said, clearly moved. “I still think it was crazy and that you hurt yourself, but… Thank you.”

You smiled, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't mean to lie to you, Joel. It wasn't even a lie."

"It was, but... It doesn't matter." he stroked your cheek, looking at you fondly. "I'm sorry, babe."

"I'm sorry too." you replied quietly.

He leaned down and his soft lips brushed yours, once, twice, three times...

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." you repeated quietly with each kiss.

"You're crazy, you know that?" he asked. You nodded without even opening your eyes.

"But will you kiss me again? I'd like to apologize to you some more."

“God, you’re lucky I love you,” Joel chuckled.

However, he granted your request. And even though you had a fresh bandage on your arm, you had completely forgotten about the pain.

[leafbowl]

Sometimes, Tim got so exhausted that he forgot where he was. Then there were the times when he got so exhausted that he forgot when he was. This was something all of the bats were aware of and they tried to accommodate him, reminding him of the correct date.

When Harley Quinn joined the bats, sometimes Tim slipped up in the most horrible way.

"HIYA BATS!" Harley yelled as she appeared out of nowhere in the Batcave. She grinned, hands behind her back as she rocked slightly. Bruce gave her an unamused look. She over-exaggerated a pout. "You're borin', B-man." She turned to the gaggle of birds mulling about. She smiled big at them all. "Hi Birdies!"

There was a chorus of hellos, some of them half-hearted and distractedly. Tim, who was on his eighteenth cup of coffee (he had started over his limit with each person, only ever drinking a cup in front of certain people (his limit was two)), looked at her, furrowed his eyebrows and then made a face like he was arguing with himself. It confused Harley but she didn't mention it. This was normal for the bats, Timmy especially.

Shaking off his thoughts, Tim smiled softly at Harley. "Hey, Mom." He then turned and went back to his work. Harley froze. Bruce froze. Dick paled, starting to shake. The three of them all stared at Tim, Harley with her mouth open in shock. She wasn't disturbed by it, being Timmy's mother was actually one of the good memories she had with Joker. Of course, the circumstances weren't good but Timmy was a good kid.

"Hi," Harley said carefully. "You feelin' okay, sweetheart?" She thought the endearment might make this easier. It didn't. Dick looked like he was going to be sick. He kept glancing between Harley and Tim. Bruce couldn't look away from the now confused boy.

"Mhm," Tim hummed. He took a sip of his coffee and when his eyes settled on Harley again, he tilted his head rather adorably. "Why do you ask?"

"You..." Harley laughed nervously. "You called me Mom."

Timmy's eyebrows drew together. "Okay... I won't call you Mom anymore but... you are my mom." He seemed very confused but he didn't seem upset or traumatised by the fact he had slipped. He also didn't seem to be like JJ in any other way.

So, Harley nodded slowly. "Okay, Pun'kin," she said, smiling again. "Continue with ya work. Ya doin' a good job."

Tim smiled at the praise and nodded, continuing on his case work. Harley turned to Batman. He looked out of it. Harley looked at Nightwing. Dick looked... like he wanted to punch something. Harley ignored them both and went to get what she'd come for: Alfred's cookies. He had baked her favourite because she hadn't killed anyone in three weeks. Three weeks! It was exciting.

Later, after Tim had slept for sixteen hours straight and was finally aware of where he was, Duke pulled him to the side and sat him down, Steph and Cass sitting on the couch in front of him. Tim narrowed his eyes at them, knowing they were up to something. But Duke looked almost... nervous. He sat down on the couch in between Steph and Cass. "What's up guys?" Tim asked warily.

"We wanted to invite you into our club," Duke said slowly. His shoulders sagged. "We have a bit of a 'our parents aren't dead but they're absent' club. Mine are just..." Duke looked off to the side, eyes glazing over as they usually did when he thought of his parents. "Broken. We'll fix them." Cass set a hand on his arm and he snapped out of it. He turned to her and smiled his thanks. Then he turned to Tim who was fucking confused.

"What are you going on about?" Tim asked. "Both of my parents-"

"We're talking bio parents," Steph put it. She slumped back against the couch. "Also, I'm mad at you that you didn't tell me you had a bio mom."

Tim only got more confused. What were they talking about?

"We heard you call Harley 'Mom' the other day," Duke said. He gave a bit of a smile but Tim couldn't find anything funny with that statement. When the fuck had he called Harley his mother? He hadn't done that in years. It was a hard fix when he first got back but he hadn't slipped up in a long time.

"Still love you," Cass promised, reaching over to take one of Tim's hands. She smiled warmly. "Even if Quinn is mother."

Tim just stared at her. He... He didn't know what to say. Even if he told them that Harley wasn't actually his mum, they wouldn't believe him unless he told them why he had called Harley 'Mom' in the first place- and he really didn't want to do that. So he didn't. He just nodded and sagged against the armchair he was sitting in. He could vaguely recall him saying something about it being good to get his secret out.

After that, Tim started going to the club meetings (it was mostly just fucking around on an inflatable course) with Steph, Duke and Cass. He figured that they wouldn't talk about it with anyone if he asked so there was really no harm in correcting them. Besides, Harley had been his mother at one point. And she wasn't a bad mum, she was just... Harley Quinn. She didn't treat Tim any different compared to his siblings other than the fact she held a certain fondness for him that he reciprocated.

Nothing could go wrong.

Something went wrong. He got so used to thinking of Harley as his mum that he started calling her that without thinking about it. At first it was just to her, which she brushed off as him making some kind of joke or it being a way to deal with his trauma, and then it was to other people.

"What did you do today, babybird?" Dick asked as he, Jason and Tim were sitting on a roof. Jason was trying to get Nightwing and Red Robin out of his territory but the two vigilantes didn't care.

Tim shrugged, swiftly side-stepping Jason's attempt as pushing him off the roof. "The usual, I guess. Oh! I saw Mom today. She wasn't doing anything so I went up to her as Tim and-"

"Wait, what?" Dick's eyebrows knitted together and Jason paused his rough-housing with his brother to stare at Tim. "Your... Mom?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, my mom." He gave them both weird looks. And then he realised what he had done. He looked off and heard laughter echo around his mind. He ignored Junior and smiled at his brothers. "You know, Selina Kyle?"

Dick relaxed. Tim could physically see the tension seep from his body. Jason didn't look as placable. "Why're you callin' her mom?"

Tim shrugged. "She is kind of like our mom."

Tim could tell Jason narrowed his eyes at him even through the helmet. "Not really," he said, voice gruff through his voice changer. "And isn't Selina in Mexico?"

Tim froze. Dick looked between his brothers. "Tim..." He frowned. "Who were you talking about?"

Tim looked away from Dick. He needed to leave. He could feel something gnawing at the back of his throat. A laugh. Him. Tim let out a sharp breath that was close enough to a laugh to subdue the itch. "Doesn't matter," he said. He pulled out his grapple but Dick caught his wrist.

"Tim," Dick said firmly.

Tim glared at him and snatched his wrist back. "Don't touch me."

Dick reared back like Tim had slapped him. Tim gave a small gasp and covered his mouth. He hadn't meant to get angry, he hadn't meant to hiss at Dick. It wasn't his fault. He was just worried about Tim.

"Tim," Jason said carefully. "Tell him."

Tim stared at him. "No," he said. He didn't know how Jason knew but he wasn't surprised.

"He could help," Jason tried but he sounded... wrong. There was something uncomfortable about his posture. Another laugh crawled up Tim's throat and he wasn't ready for it so soon. It bubbled out of him and Dick paled. He went grey, his hands beginning to tremble.

Tim managed to quell the urge and stopped his laughter. He cleared his throat, turned, and fell off the side of the building, deciding running was the better option. Safer. It was best that Dick didn't know Junior was still in Tim's head, still lurking around. He was caged, his hands bound and his mouth gagged. Still, sometimes JJ got out of his binds. Sometimes he had enough influence over Tim that he snuck in a laugh or two, sometimes he pushed out the words Mom and Dad. He hadn't called Joker 'Dad' since it first happened. He wasn't ever going to do it again. He couldn't.

[michigo-eevee-trainer]

An Eclipse

Ok so this is a short story I made from one of @kyri45 asks for their Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU. They were asked what would happen when Wukong saw Macaque with white fur for the first time. And this idea stuck in my brain until I finally wrote. So here you go. My take on what happened that day. Sorry if my writing isn't very good.

~~~~~~

Liu'er looked up at the night sky. The moon was glowing brightly meaning it was one thing. An Eclipse. Liu'er let out a breath allowing his glamours to fall away. He thought back to the first time he had experienced an eclipse. How his shadow powers suddenly stopped working. How much he had panicked thinking he was losing his powers completely. It took him a while to calm down where his Mother had explained what was going on. How the Eclipse was messing with his shadow powers and he would get them back when the Eclipse was done. His Mother, or should he say the one who raised him, showed him how to get his powers back through the Eclipse. Not even his true Mother, and she was the one to teach him so much. Liu'er looked at his hands which now had white fur. The white fur was almost glowing meaning they were getting close.

It was a quiet night and no other monkey was around. Most monkeys wanted nothing to do with Liu'er anyways. Not that he minded, especially when it came to this. It would just take too long to explain if someone had spotted him doing this. Liu'er closed his eyes just taking in the calm breeze as he waited.

"Whoa!"

Liu'er flinched and quickly whipped around towards the noise. Wukong was standing there. Wukong was just staring at him with his jaw dropped a bit. Liu'er felt his nerves spike at being caught.

"W-Wait I…I can…"

"You look…" Then Wukong's face shifted from amazement to worry, "Wait! Are you aging! Is that why you're turning white?!"

"What?! No?! No No! That's not--"

"You're aging quickly! Hold on! I figure out how to--"

"Wukong I'm not aging! I'm--"

A feeling passed over Liu'er causing him to look up at the sky. The Eclipse was almost about to start. There wasn't a lot of time.

"Just One Minute!" Liu'er turned to the Eclipse.

Liu'er quickly began to go through the motion of Eclipse that he had been taught. He toned out Wukong as he needed to focus for this. As he went through this, his fur slowly turned back to black. It only took about a minute or so for his fur to become fully black again. Which was also the time when the Moon was completely covered. Liu'er gave a small sigh of relief before turning back to Wukong. His condition hadn't gotten any better. He still looked so worried but there was also a hint of confusion in his eyes.

Liu'er gave a small smile, "See? I'm fine. I'm not aging or--"

Wukong tackled Liu'er down knocking the wind out of him.

Wukong hugged him tightly, "I was so worried. Liu'er!"

"Wukong, I'm fine. I promise. I'm fine. This happens every year."

Wukong looked up at him, "What do you mean?"

Liu'er gave a small sigh before asking, "Remember my shadow powers?"

Wukong gave a nod so Liu'er explained, "When we got close to the Eclipse, my powers start going away. And with my magic going away, it reveals my natural fur color. Once the Eclipse is over, I get my powers back."

Wukong stared at him for a moment before asking, "Your fur is naturally white?"

Liu'er blinked in surprise at the question. Out of all the information he just got, that was the question he was going to ask.

"Umm…Yeah."

"But you've always had black fur."

"I glamour it to look black."

"Why?"

"It's easier to blend in with black fur."

"But you look pretty with white fur."

Liu'er looked surprised as a pink blush crossed his face. He really wished Wukong wouldn't just say stuff like that.

"Well…I…."

Wukong pleaded, "Undo your glamours so I can see your fur. Please Liu'er. Please."

Liu'er debated doing that just to show Wukong. But then another feeling passed over Liu'er. One that made him extremally tired. Oh right. He forget that getting his powers back made him tired. He hoped that stopped when he got older. He also hoped he had enough energy to at least make it to a tree to sleep.

"Maybe later, Wukong."

"But--"

"Wukong I'm tired."

Wukong seemed to realized that Liu'er was indeed tired, "Oh right. Time for bed."

Wukong let him go as he got up. Liu'er was going to get up to start walking back. That was until Wukong picked him up and placed him right on his back. Liu'er just held on, stunned, as Wukong started to walk back.

After a moment, Liu'er got control over his mouth again, "What are you doing?"

"You're tired so I'll carry you back."

"Y-You don't have to."

"But I want to. Now you can rest and I'll get you back."

Liu'er placed his chin on Wukong's shoulder, "Thank you."

"No problem. You know, I really hope that you'll show me your fur again. It really was pretty and I…"

The rest of Wukong's words were lost to Liu'er as his eyes began to close. Maybe he would show his fur to Wukong again. Maybe.

[quitedisastrous]

sitting here annoyed with myself for not starting my java assignments (tbf even though it takes me a while to get to assignments normally) as if my mental health isn't complete ass right now. "man i wish i started these assignments during the week" <- dog your thoughts were drifting away from you on wednesday and nothing felt real unless you were actively thinking about something. and then it took a few days to feel normal. no shit you didn't start them that week

[torchickentacos]

you- you bought a fetal hog from barnes and noble?????

Okay SO! Long post ahead. Storytime. A little set-up for this saga: first off, this story centers around bio 102 lab class. Second, my college has a little on-campus supplies store which just so happens to be run by Barnes and Noble. It's basically a B&N but with overpriced college-color lanyards and shitty coffee and stuff too. and pigs. SO.

Imagine. It's the beginning of my semester a semester or two ago (it all runs together, idfk). This all began in late August and ends at the dissection in October, if I recall. Now, I've taken a lab class before, I know how it works, but I've never done a dissection. I've worked with live animals in an educational setting through vetsci classes back in a high school accreditation program/courses, but I've never had to work with preserved animals, so I didn't know the ~standard procedure~ of how you would prep/find materials for a dissection. I saw 'dissections' on the syllabus and assumed they'd just provide the dissectee to you. You know. Because that's the most rational assumption. You'd think that's how that would work, that they'd just put it on the table in front of you.

...Then I read further down the syllabus and saw that students were expected to buy their own fetal pigs (out of pocket, might I add. Like, our little trio at the lab table pooled our poor college kid money until we had 80 bucks, but I'm getting ahead of myself). It was very specifically specified on the materials list, alongside buying a lab coat and a book and lab guides etc, that we would be buying a fetal pig.

So naturally I was like 'well, that doesn't sound right, but what do I know'. Reread it more closely to make sure, and yep, it's asking me to buy a pig fetus. Not covered by my class fees. What the fuck.

Out of equal parts confusion and curiousity, I then asked tumblr, like "Hey, um, is it normal for your lab to ask you to buy your own fetal pig???" Here were the responses on that.

So that was a fairly unanimous 'no', lol.

At this point, I was like, 'okay, I probably just give them the fee and they take it out of the freezer on the day of the dissection. Right?' No. Wrong. I spent a couple weeks trying to figure out how to source my own pig fetus before our professor FINALLY told us a few classes in, about a month before the dissection, that we would need to go walk over to the school bookstore and buy it there, at BARNES AND NOBLE, all the way across campus, and bring it to lab the week before the dissection so that she can put them in the freezer and have them ready for us.

So I ended up doing just that. Several weeks later, I woke up at like seven in the morning- THIS WAS A MORNING CLASS TOO which by the way, any new college students, don't do that to yourself- anyways I woke up early, got ready, got to campus, and walked into the Barnes and Noble to the cashier lady and was like "Hi. Um. I'm sorry but do you have any fetal pigs?" and thankfully she knew exactly what I was talking about lmfao, and she went and got me one and I paid with the pooled money. And I walked back across campus. With my little vacuum-sealed pig fetus in tow (which, by the way, bigger and heavier than I was expecting it to be. I was expecting maybe a squirrel sized thing but it was roughly the weight of a small pumpkin and, like, hand-to-elbow long, but I have short arms).

And, you know, I've gotten into some situations in my life (the recent accidental acquisition of a ton of sauce comes to mind) but I really think that walking across campus with a bagged pig at like eight in the fucking morning has to be in the top five experiences I've ever had. It's really high up there. Brisk autumn wind biting through my jacket, the leaves are barely hanging on, the sky was the kind of bright blue that contrasts with the auburns and umbers of the dying greenery, just an absolutely gorgeous fall morning and I'm experiencing it with a dead pig in a plastic bag as I walk down the sidewalk.

It was pretty interesting to dissect, though. My lab table named her Peppa (we also had a goldfish named Darcy, who, thankfully, got to be alive and unharmed for his experiments).

[kianamaiart]

Hey OMG every cast that is in your pilot IDWTBAMG has all played my favorite characters I'm soooo excited!

Are you good friends with all the cast members?

How did you all become good friends?

Do you keep in Contact with them?

Most of them are internet friends!! I feel like voice actors and people who work in animation tend to run in the same circles haha

I knew Anairis' fiancé, AJ first! We've been mutuals ever since we both worked on Pokémon Path to the Peak (i was a storyboard artist/writer and he was the voice of Joshua). He's been so kind and encouraging about pppidwtbamg since I started posting about it and was the reason I was able to get in contact with Anairis to voice Aika! And Anairis has been lovely. Such a sweet person and super hardworking VA. I was able to meet them and AJ in person at Anime Impulse a couple months back~

Marieve's a friend of mine from Big City Greens! I'm a storyboard artist/director on the show and she voices Tilly. We first met at our S1 premiere party~ She was so helpful in regards to this pilot. I'd initially just asked if she had any voice directing tips but she told me she could just do it with me and also voice whatever characters I needed~

Shara's also a friend I know in person! I think we first met irl at party Sarah Natochenny hosted when the finale for the Pokémon Journeys dub aired~ We've hung out a few times since then! She's a delight and when I posted the bios for these character she said she wanted to voice DeVoid (before I even decided I was gonna make a pilot) and of course I was like "YES"

I've known Michele since 2020 and she started streaming. I've been a guest on her streams a few times and we still message a bunch! She's super supportive of my art (and the jessiexdelia stuff) and I've done con prints for her a few times~ She's always checking in on me and my girlfriend and making sure we're doing good heehee

Aleks has been a long time twitter mutual of mine! We've commented on each others' posts and dm'd here and there~ I did a print for him a while ago too when he announced he was the voice of Leon in Evolutions and Piers in Pokemon Masters.

I didn't know Christine personally prior to this project so I was really happy that she was down to help! We talked a lot when we had our in person recording session for the pilot and I found out we had a mutual friend! We're all planning to hang out soon~

Bennett's also someone I didn't know personally prior to this project but I've been a big fan of her voice work for a long time! We didn't get to talk a whole lot but she was so encouraging about this pilot and said that she loved the script which made my life. Super easy to work with and an INCREDIBLE comedian/improvisor. Her improv as Zira was some of my favorite and a lot of it made it into the pilot hehe

[hyaciiintho]

🌸｡*ﾟ+.-sweats profusely as he adds one more and contemplates REAL HARD on another-

🌸｡*ﾟ+.-giggles cutely as he adds, not one, but 3 ace attorney muses to his list- (◕‿◕✿)

[hrts4hanniehae]

seventeen and how they would launch their relationship with idol!you

PAIRING. seventeen (ot13) x idol!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, scenario imagines WARNINGS. kissing, social media, staying the night, WORD COUNT. 991 words

rereading it makes me feel like they r all OOC pls give feedback in my ask box

choi seungcheol

he would hard launch

when your managers both give the go sign, he would immediately post his favourite date pics with you on to his instagram and weverse.

his captions would be one emoji.

he would tag you in his instagram bio and become upset if you don't do the same.

the rest of svt wld be so done with him because he wld just be spamming his story with all his favourite pics of you for his highlight he titles "y/n"

yoon jeonghan

he would soft launch after begging you not to post anything for one month

when your managers both give the go sign, he would just post a picture of your hands touching onto instagram, captionless.

then he would watch his instagram comments get flooded

a month later, he would post a picture of the both of you, again, captionless but tag you and turn off his comments so yours would be flooded.

when you asked him why he did that... "because it's fun." he says before kissing you.

joshua hong

he would hard launch

when your managers both give the go sign, he would post one picture of both of you on his instagram story before going offline for 1284284 years again.

the launching is left to you...

but when you post, he's the first to comment and like it.

he loves you but not social media.

wen junhui

he would start a lovestagram

he would firstly make you post the same stray cats as him just hours apart, then the same restaurant, then the same shops.

he would then wait to see if people began to catch on, then he'd reveal the relationship.

you find it funny how serious he takes this.

kwon soonyoung

he would hard launch

he prepared matching tiger shirts for this very moment.

he would post a dance practice you both had while wearing the shirts, in which the vid ends with an off screen kiss. that the other svt members can be heard to be groaning at

he would tag you in his instagram bio and add a tiger and a heart emoji

the rest of svt wld be so done with him because he wld be recording "horanghae" videos for you even more.

jeon wonwoo

he would soft launch

since you both met due to your love for gaming, he would just subtly change his gamer tags to match yours

he would add the words "player 1" to his instagram bio and you would add "player 2"

he would then start a "gam3 boi" and show off your characters in [game] having a cute house together and being married

after a while, you both decide to post a picture together and finally fully reveal your relationship.

lee jihoon

he would soft launch

he isn't the type to be super affectionate, so at most he would start by liking your instagram posts.

after a while he just decides to repost your posts on his story

once the speculations that you were dating became more apparent, he would finally let you convince him to start a lovestagram with you.

it's kinda cute because he secretly likes it a lot.

xu minghao

he would soft launch on weibo

he would start by posting pictures of himself at museums that you took, then take photos for you which you would post on your instagram

after that he would subtly hint his presence in the photos he takes of you. like maybe a fraction of his reflection in a window, or his shoe in a photo of you petting a cat.

soon, people would catch onto his presence and your relationship

kim mingyu

he would hard launch

he would tag you in his instagram bio and start pouting if you don't do the same.

he would just announce it on his weverse "I'm dating y/n."

after that he would keep posting stories of his dates with you and clips of your performances that he really likes

lee seokmin

he would hard launch

when your managers both give the go sign, he would immediately post his favourite date pics with you on to his instagram and weverse.

his captions would be along the lines of "my precious sunshine"

he would be so happy after that, because he gets to tell the world that you're his!

he would post videos of your best concert fancams and caption them with hearts.

boo seungkwan

he would hard launch with a lovestagram

typical photos taken by both parties.

he would caption all the posts with a heart emoji.

when people would begin to realise the photos match up, he would officially reveal it .

you would post your photo with the caption "i don't love anyone more than boo~" and he would be all smiles for a week.

vernon chwe

he would just wait for dispatch to announce it first before posting anything

after that then he would post a solo pic of you he took when you stayed over at his house with the caption "pretty u" which is quite cute.

he would still pose the same even when you take selfies together and that makes your pics look like you edited him in, so they're not postable. so you just take and post boyfriend pics of him.

lee chan

he would hard launch

when your managers both give the go sign, he would immediately post his favourite pics of you on to his instagram.

his captions would be lyrics from your hit love songs

he would get teased nonstop when his hyungs see the post, but wouldn't care because the smile on your face seeing those posts are worth it..

in turn, you would caption boyfriend pics of him that you post with "my otter" or "my chan" or you would tease him with pics of your good fits with "oh my god! look at my fit!" and the other svt members would comment "it's good!" (pls get the ref...)

[nocturnebite]

Clickbait [+..••]

(is this real) - gamer! Ni-ki x fem! reader

synopsis: He wasn’t supposed to swipe back. But now you’re trading late-night calls with a too-perfect gamer, and it feels real—until his past comes crashing in. Was he genuine… or just another kind of clickbait? fic notes: dating apps... ew || banter || mild trust issues || fluff :3 wc: 4.87k

ash's notes: this idea has been in my head for so long and i really wanted to write it and now i'm finally done! i've got so many drafts i need to post it's unreal. but i hope you enjoy this little story :3 !!

“Okay, spill. How was it?”

You blink at your friend, the flickering glow of the café’s fairy lights reflecting in her eyes as she leans forward, resting her chin on her palm like she’s about to hear the juiciest gossip of the year. The table between you smells of burnt caramel and overpriced matcha, and you’ve barely touched your drink. You draw a slow breath, the kind that tastes like disappointment, and offer a flat smile.

“Just more clickbait,” you say.

Your friend groans like it physically hurts her. “No way.”

You nod, slouching in your chair as if gravity itself has finally gotten too heavy to resist. “He said he was six feet. He was five-seven, max. His pictures were from, like, 2018. And he talked about crypto for an hour straight. I didn’t even know people still did that.”

She winces. “Oof.”

You sigh again, softer this time, letting the frustration settle in your chest. “I’m so tired of people pretending to be someone they’re not. I get it—it’s a dating app. Everyone's performing. But why does it feel like I’m the only one actually showing up as me?”

Your friend plays with her straw, thoughtful. “So... you’re giving up?”

You shrug. “I think I’ve officially retired. I’ll knit. Adopt a cat. Maybe start writing angry Yelp reviews.”

“Oh, come on.” She bumps your arm. “You can’t just quit. I had a good date last week, remember? It’s not all trash.”

“Yeah, and I’m thrilled for you,” you say honestly. “But you’re, like, the one-in-a-million success story they use in the ads. I’m the cautionary tale.”

“Stop it,” she says, dragging out the last word like a scolding mom. “You’re gorgeous, funny, smart. You deserve something good.”

You smile, a bit tired around the edges, and tilt your head. “Tell that to the last guy who said ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ on his profile.”

She groans and grabs your phone from the table. “Let’s just look, okay? You don’t have to marry anyone tonight.”

You eye her skeptically. “You’re relentless.”

“And you’re tragic. Come on.”

You sigh but relent, taking the phone back. The app lights up like a slot machine as you open it. Familiar profiles slide past your thumb: shirtless mirror selfies, vague bios with gym stats, a suspicious number of “entrepreneurs.”

Some match with you. You don’t swipe back. Some are clearly bots, or worse—people who look like they borrowed someone else’s face.

And then you see him.

Your thumb freezes.

Tall. Jet-black hair, slightly tousled like he just got up from a gaming chair but still looks model-ready. Hooded eyes. Full lips. That smirk—cocky, unreadable, like he knows something you don’t.

“Holy—” your friend leans over the screen. “Swipe. Now.”

“No,” you say immediately, locking the phone like it just burned you. “Absolutely not. He’s definitely fake.”

“Are you kidding me? That man looks like a Greek god and you’re not even curious?”

“He looks like trouble,” you mutter. “He’s hot. He knows it. Probably a Twitch streamer with a Discord full of girls who call him ‘daddy.’ I’m not signing up for that.”

Your friend laughs so hard she nearly spills her drink. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” you insist, though your heart is pounding for reasons you can’t explain. “It’s written all over his face.”

“But what if it’s not? What if—plot twist—he’s the one that breaks the pattern?”

You hesitate.

“Just swipe,” she pleads. “Worst case, you don’t match and never see him again. Best case…”

You shake your head, but you can already feel yourself giving in. Still, before you can decide, your friend snatches the phone and swipes right with a dramatic flourish.

You gape at her. “Did you just—?!”

“No match,” she says, showing you the screen. “Happy?”

You exhale, weirdly deflated. “Honestly? Yeah. I mean, he’s probably got a million people trying to match with him.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it just wasn’t your moment.”

You nod, lips pressed together as you slide your phone into your bag. “Well, I’m done for the night. I’m going home, washing my face, and watching something stupid.”

She stands with you, grinning. “Good. You deserve to turn your brain off. But hey…” she pauses, her smile softening. “Don’t give up completely, okay? I’ve got a good feeling.”

You roll your eyes but give her a hug goodbye.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

That night, you toss your keys onto your desk, the screen of your phone lighting up just as you’re about to plug it in.

1 New Message - [Tinder]

You frown, opening it automatically, expecting another “hey cutie” from someone who can’t spell your name right.

But the screen shows something else entirely.

You matched with Riki.

Your heart stops.

Your hands go cold.

You blink at the message, then again—just to make sure your eyes aren’t playing tricks.

The same face. The same smirk. The guy who was too good to be true…

Matched with you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

You don’t open the message right away.

You tell yourself it’s because you’re busy—brushing your teeth, feeding the dog, picking at dinner you don’t even taste—but deep down, you know it’s because you’re scared.

You already decided not to get your hopes up again. You’ve already been down this road before—the one where a hot guy matches, flirts, builds you up like you’re the only girl on earth, only to ghost you the second things feel real.

Still.

You tap the app. His message is waiting.

Riki: Thought I was imagining things for a sec. Didn’t expect the girl with the death-glare profile pic to swipe back 😅

Your nose scrunches. Death glare?

You flip to your own profile, stare at the photo your friend picked—half-smiling, eyes a little dead inside.

Okay, fair.

You: Yeah well. Didn’t expect the cocky gamer guy to swipe either. So I guess we’re both glitching tonight. Riki: I’m not cocky. I’m just... factually confident. And good with my thumbs.

You roll your eyes and try not to smile. You fail.

You: That’s exactly something a cocky guy would say. Riki: Damn. She’s clever too. I’m in trouble.

You don’t respond right away. Not because you don’t want to—but because something in your chest tightens at how easy it is. The flow. The banter. Like slipping into an old sweater you forgot still fit.

And somehow, it stays like that.

No “wyd” texts. No pressure. Just long, meandering conversations that start late and end later. You find out he streams sometimes, but only for fun. He has a little sister he’s protective over. He learned to cook because his mom works nights. His favorite genre is horror, but he’s a total baby when it comes to jump scares.

He doesn’t ask for selfies. Doesn’t hint at anything sketchy. In fact, half the time it feels like he genuinely just wants someone to talk to.

Which is kind of nice.

It turns into a rhythm: He messages. You reply. You laugh. You tease. You talk until your phone is warm in your hand and your eyes sting from lack of sleep.

Riki: You’re fun. You: You’re not what I expected. Riki: That’s either the best compliment or a red flag in disguise. You: I’ll let you know which later.

It’s two weeks in when he says it.

You’re half-asleep, curled in bed, squinting at his message through one heavy eyelid.

Riki: Random idea You should come visit sometime

You blink. Sit up a little.

You: …what? Riki: Like, no pressure. Just throwing it out there. I’ll even pay for the flight if it makes it easier.

You stare at your screen like it just called you by your middle name.

You: Uhh. Red flag alert. Guy offering to pay for your flight? That’s how true crime documentaries start. Riki: Rude. I don’t even own duct tape. You: That’s exactly what someone with duct tape would say. Riki: Touché.

You toss your phone onto the bed, pull the blanket over your face, and scream into it.

Then obviously you FaceTime your best friend.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

“You’re being dramatic,” she says, chewing a mouthful of chips. “You two have been talking nonstop for, what, three weeks?”

“Two and a half.”

“Exactly. That’s like, seven months in internet time. Honestly, if you were dating IRL, people would be asking when the wedding is.”

You throw your head back with a groan. “It’s not like that. We’re just… friends. Kind of. With... light sarcasm and subtle tension.”

“So... dating.”

“NO!”

She levels you with a look. “You like him.”

“I like the version of him that lives in my phone. That doesn’t mean he’s real.”

“Then FaceTime him.”

You blink. “What?”

“If you’re nervous he’s not who he says he is, video chat. If he’s a catfish, boom—case closed. If he’s real... then you’ll know.”

You sit with that for a second.

Then you do it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

The first FaceTime is awkward in a cute way. He’s lounging in a hoodie with messy hair and a controller in his lap. You’re in your worst pajama shirt, already regretting not putting on concealer.

But he smiles when he sees you—no hesitation, no filters, no pause.

“Yo,” he says like it’s no big deal.

“You’re real,” you blurt before you can stop yourself.

He laughs. “That’s what I was gonna say.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

One call turns into two.

Two turns into three.

Three turns into four—until it’s a quiet comfort, this unspoken ritual of being online together, even when you’re not talking.

You study. He games. Sometimes he curses under his breath. Sometimes you hum without realizing it. Neither of you hangs up first.

The screen just stays on.

And somewhere between late-night calls and sleepy “goodnights,” it stops feeling like a maybe.

It starts to feel like something real.

One night, while adjusting his mic and opening some game you don’t recognize, he says it again:

“You should come visit.”

This time, it sounds less like a joke.

And more like a hope.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

“You should come visit.”

It’s not the first time he’s said it. 

But this time… it’s different.

His voice is soft through your laptop speaker, his hoodie bunched up around his elbows as he clicks through some loading screen. You’re lying sideways on your bed, textbooks open, highlighter uncapped, but your focus vanished the second he said those four words.

You don’t answer right away. Just chew your lip and stare at the screen where he’s pretending not to look at you.

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve asked”

“I’m serious,” he says after a beat. “I mean… if you want to.”

There’s that voice again. Casual, light, no pressure. Like he’s talking about ordering takeout, not asking you to fly across the country and see if he’s actually the person you’ve been falling asleep on FaceTime with every night.

You close your textbook.

“Riki.”

He glances over. The game’s paused now. You can see the flicker of the screenlight reflected in his cheekbones. He looks tired. Warm. Real.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not like… secretly plotting to harvest my organs, right?”

He snorts. “I literally stream Minecraft, not organ trafficking.”

“Not a convincing alibi.”

He grins, then sobers. “I get it. It’s a big ask. But I meant it when I said I’d help. I’d book the flight. You’d stay at a hotel if you want, no pressure. I wouldn’t be weird.”

“That’s what all the weird ones say.”

“Okay,” he says, deadpan. “I’d be only a little weird. Like, manageable-weird. Charming-weird.”

You laugh, and that’s the problem.

Because you like him. More than you meant to.

You liked the idea of him at first. A distraction. A match your friend forced. But now… it’s not just the banter or the voice you’ve memorized or the ridiculous way he says “dude” when he’s excited.

It’s how he makes you feel like the only person in the room—even through a screen.

And that? That’s dangerous.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

The next day, you bring it up to your best friend over lunch.

Her response is immediate: “You have to go.”

You blink. “Okay, but what if he’s not—”

“You FaceTime him literally every night.”

“What if he’s different in person?”

“He watches K-dramas and talks to your dog through the phone. You already know him better than half the guys you’ve actually dated.”

You stare at your untouched sandwich.

“I just…” You swallow. “What if I go and it ruins it?”

She’s quiet for once.

Then: “What if you don’t… and it ruins you?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

That night, you don’t say yes.

You say, “I’m thinking about it.”

You say, “It’s a maybe.”

And he doesn’t push.

Instead, he smiles at you—gentle and slow, like he knows you’re a scared thing on the edge of something, and he’s not going to rush you off it.

“I can wait,” he says simply.

You believe him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

The next week, something shifts.

Not in a dramatic way—no confessions, no intense moment of clarity—but in all the quiet ways that matter more.

You fall asleep on call, and he whispers, “Goodnight,” like a secret. You wake up to a message from him with a screenshot of a dumb meme he swears “just felt like you.” He starts calling you by your name more, not just your username.

One night, in the middle of a game, he glances at his screen and says, out of nowhere: “Do you always look at me like that?”

You blink. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying not to.”

You don’t have an answer.

So you call again. And again.

By the time it’s the sixth night in a row, you’re not even nervous anymore. You’re just… used to it. Comfortable. You study, he plays. You breathe. He listens.

Sometimes you don’t talk for twenty minutes.

And it feels like home.

That night, he says it again—quieter this time.

“You should come visit.”

And this time… You don’t say no.

You just look at him—pixelated and beautiful—and whisper, “Maybe.”

And he smiles like maybe is everything.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

It starts with a ticket in your inbox.

No subject line. No message. Just an email that reads:

“Your flight to Seoul has been confirmed.”

You blink.

Then your phone buzzes.

Riki: Don’t panic. You can still say no. I’ll cancel it in a second if you’re uncomfortable. Just… wanted to make it real. In case you say yes.

Your heart is doing weird things.

You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard, your thoughts a loud chorus of what ifs and you’re crazy and this boy could be everything or nothing or both.

You: Give me three days. If I don’t back out by then… I’ll go.

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

You don’t back out.

Your friend screams when you tell her. She helps you pack—overpacks, really—like you’re heading into battle instead of a long weekend. She even shoves a tiny pink can of pepper spray in your purse “just in case he’s secretly a weirdo.”

(You both know he’s not. But still. Pepper spray is ✨ aesthetic ✨.)

The night before the flight, you barely sleep. You FaceTime Riki and end up playing “21 questions” until 2am, your voices slow and sleepy.

“What if it’s weird?” you ask.

“What if it’s not?” he replies.

You hate that that makes you smile.

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

At the airport, your nerves riot inside you. The terminal smells like pretzels and nerves and new beginnings.

By the time the plane lands, your hands are cold and your thoughts are loud.

You look around baggage claim, eyes darting.

Then—you see him.

He’s leaning against a pillar, hoodie half-zipped, hair tucked under a black cap. There’s a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He’s scrolling his phone, one hand in his pocket.

He doesn’t see you yet.

And in that second, you think—he looks like trouble. But the good kind.

Then he looks up.

And smiles.

Not the polite kind. Not the awkward oh-hi-nice-to-meet-you kind.

The I know you already kind.

And just like that— You’re not nervous anymore.

The first five minutes are weird.

Of course they are.

You both talk too fast. Or not at all. He goes in for a hug, and you kind of flinch, so he backs off and jokes, “Guess I deserved that.” And you say, “No, I’m just—processing,” and then neither of you talk for five minutes straight in the car.

But then he says, “You hungry?” And you say, “Always.”

And suddenly… you’re fine again.

The first night is a blur of fast food eaten in his car, music playing low, and a midnight walk through a neighborhood you don’t know but don’t mind getting lost in.

At one point, he bumps his shoulder into yours and says, “You’re taller than I expected.”

You deadpan, “You’re not.”

He laughs so hard he nearly drops his drink.

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

The next day, you hang out at his place.

He’s more nervous than you’ve ever seen him—rambling about his cable setup, offering snacks every five seconds, adjusting his monitor like he’s auditioning for HGTV.

But you sit on his bed, cross-legged, and just watch.

And after a while, he calms down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he mumbles.

You shrug. “You’re real.”

He gives you a look. “Still convinced I was a catfish?”

“No,” you say. “But this part still doesn’t feel real.”

He sits beside you. Not touching. Just close.

“Same.”

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

At night, you fall asleep on his couch watching him game—your legs draped over his lap, your heart refusing to chill out. You pretend to be tired just to stay where you are.

He doesn’t move.

Just shifts the blanket higher over your knees, one hand resting lightly on your shin. You catch him glance at you once. Twice.

But he never says what you both know.

Not yet.

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

And then—on the last night—you’re both lying side by side, watching some movie neither of you are really paying attention to. His fingers are brushing against yours on the bedspread. Barely. But enough.

He turns his head. “Hey.”

You look at him.

He looks nervous.

“Do you ever think… if we’d met in person first, it wouldn’t have worked?”

You blink. “Why?”

“I think I needed to know you before I liked you. Like, for real. The real you.”

You smile. “I was a mess when we met.”

He laughs. “You still are.”

You kick his leg. “Hey.”

He looks at you then—really looks.

“Still the best kind of mess I’ve ever met.”

Your breath catches.

But before either of you can say anything else—your phone buzzes. Loud. Jarring.

You frown and reach for it, expecting your friend checking in.

It’s not.

It’s a direct message request.

From someone you don’t recognize.

And it says:

“You think you’re the only one he’s talking to?”

Your blood goes cold.

You look up.

And Riki—still smiling, still relaxed—doesn’t notice the shift in your face.

Yet.

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

You read the message again.

“You think you’re the only one he’s talking to?”

The screen blurs. Your chest tightens. The room—warm and dim and full of the scent of Riki’s hoodie you’ve been curled in—suddenly feels foreign. Hollow.

Riki says something beside you. A dumb joke. You don’t hear it.

“Hey.” His voice cuts through. “You okay?”

You lock your phone and force a smile. “Yeah. Just my friend checking in.”

A lie.

You’ve never lied to him before.

It feels worse than the message.

You try to ignore it. Brush it off. A troll. A bot. A jealous girl with no life. Whatever.

But the message festers.

The next day, you wake up to another.

“I hope he told you about me. Or about our FaceTimes.”

You don’t reply. You can’t.

You don’t know what to believe.

So instead, you test him.

“Hey,” you say casually, the next time you’re lying on the couch with him.

“Hmm?” he says, eyes on his screen.

“You ever… talk to other girls on here? Like, before me?”

He pauses. Glances at you. “You mean on Tinder?”

You shrug. “Or in general.”

He leans back. “I mean, yeah. Before you. But nothing like this. Nothing real.”

You nod. Try to smile. But the words loop in your head.

Before you. Before you. Before you.

But what if before never ended?

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

By the third message, it’s not subtle anymore.

“He sent me the same flight email. I still have it.” [Attached: a screenshot]

Same subject line. Same dates. Different name.

You feel sick.

You don’t want to accuse him. You don’t want to need to.

So you ask.

“Riki… have you ever done this before?”

He blinks. “Done what?”

“This. Flying someone out. Meeting people from the app.”

There’s a beat.

Then: “Why are you asking?”

He doesn’t deny it.

And that hurts more than any answer.

You go silent.

The car ride back to the hotel is heavy.

He notices. Of course he does.

“Okay,” he says, pulling into the parking lot. “What’s going on?”

You don’t look at him. “Just tired.”

“You’re lying.”

You snap. “So are you.”

He goes quiet.

The kind of quiet that confirms everything.

You swallow. “Someone messaged me. Said you were FaceTiming them. Said you flew them out. Same message. Same dates.”

His jaw tightens. “It’s not what you think.”

You laugh, sharp. “That’s funny, because it looks exactly like what I think.”

Then—softer: “I didn’t expect this to be perfect, Riki. I just didn’t want to be stupid for trusting you.”

He doesn’t say anything.

And that silence? It feels like betrayal.

You go inside the hotel alone.

The second the door closes behind you, you slide to the floor.

You don’t cry. Not yet. You’re not sure you’re allowed to. Not for someone who was never yours.

But your phone buzzes again.

Riki: I didn’t lie. Not about you. Can we talk?

And you don’t know if you’re ready.

But your heart?

It already misses him.

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

You don’t answer his messages.

Not at first.

Not because you want to punish him—but because you’re scared that if you open the door, you’ll let him talk you back into something that maybe wasn’t even real.

You need space. He gives it to you. For about twelve hours.

Then your phone rings.

It’s your friend.

“You need to check Twitter,” she says.

Your stomach drops. “What?”

“Just… look.”

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

It’s a clip.

From one of Riki’s streams.

He’s laughing in it, leaned back in his chair, wearing a hoodie you recognize because you wore it two nights ago.

One of his friends says something off-screen:

“So you’re just gonna disappear for four days and not explain why?”

Riki shrugs. “I’m flying someone out.”

“A girl?”

He grins. “The girl.”

The chat explodes. Emojis. Screaming.

His friend hoots. “You’re in love.”

Riki doesn’t deny it.

Just goes quiet for a second. Then says, low and sure,

“She’s different. You’ll see.”

You stare at the screen.

Your breath stutters.

You scroll down. The comments are a storm. Most of them are pure chaos and ship names and thirsty fans screaming “SOFT LAUNCH???”

But some…

Some are ugly.

And one account keeps showing up.

One you recognize from the message requests.

@ KikiLuvsRiki: don’t fall for his act. i used to be “different” too. he just wants content. @ KikiLuvsRiki: bet he sent her the same flight confirmation template he used last year LMFAO.

Your hands shake.

Then a post from her, timestamped four hours ago:

“Imagine thinking you’re special to someone who rehearsed the same lines with me. He just swapped the name.”

There’s a screenshot attached.

Of a flight confirmation email.

But it’s dated last year.

Same airline. Different destination. Different name.

But the same tone.

You click the profile.

Scroll.

And what you find?

It’s not a random hater.

It’s his ex.

That night, your phone rings again.

Riki.

You don’t want to answer.

You do anyway.

“I should’ve told you,” he says, voice low, rough. “I just didn’t think she’d find out. I didn’t think it would matter.”

You sit on the edge of the hotel bed, silent.

“I mentioned you on stream. I never do that. You know I don’t. And I didn’t even say your name—I was just… talking. I couldn’t help it. I was excited. I’m always careful, but this time I wasn’t.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah,” he says, barely a whisper. “Because of you.”

Your heart twists.

“She saw the stream,” he adds. “And I guess she still had old screenshots or whatever. She’s not wrong—I flew her out once. A long time ago. We weren’t even a thing for more than a couple weeks, but she stuck around online. And when I stopped responding, she got weird.”

You exhale. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was scared you’d think I was doing the same thing again. That I was collecting girls off the internet and making them fall for me or something.”

“And aren’t you?” you ask, voice quiet.

Silence.

Then:

“No.” “I wasn’t trying with anyone else.” “I didn’t even plan to swipe on your profile. I saw you, and it just—hit me. Harder than I expected. You weren’t just pretty. You looked real. Like someone I could ruin myself for if I wasn’t careful.”

You bite your lip.

He continues. “I didn’t swipe right first. But when we matched… I knew. I’ve never been like this with anyone else. Not even her.”

Your chest aches.

“But I should’ve told you,” he says. “That’s on me. I’ll make it up to you. Or I won’t. If this ruins it, I’ll live with that. But you deserved the truth.”

You let the silence sit.

It’s not that you don’t believe him.

It’s that you want to.

And maybe that scares you most of all.

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

The airport feels colder than it should.

Maybe it’s the early flight. Maybe it’s the sleep you didn’t get. Maybe it’s because you thought he’d fight harder.

You roll your suitcase forward.

Every step feels heavier than it should. Like maybe your heart stayed back at the hotel. Or in that voicemail you haven’t listened to yet.

“I get it if you’re done. But I’m not.” “Not with you.”

You clench your jaw. Shake your head. Keep walking.

You did what you were supposed to.

You gave him a chance to explain. You didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene when your feelings got kicked around like some bonus level prize in his online world.

You let him talk.

You just didn’t stay.

Not this time.

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

Your gate is five minutes away.

You wrap your arms around yourself and try not to think.

The check-in lady takes your ID.

“Round trip?” she asks, typing.

You hesitate. Then shake your head.

“Just one way.”

She nods, unfazed. Prints your ticket.

You turn around—

And nearly crash into him.

Riki. Standing there. Breathless. Hoodie crooked. Hair messy. Like he ran.

And didn’t stop.

You freeze. “What—how did you—?”

“I tracked your flight.” His voice is hoarse. “Don’t be mad.”

You blink. “Are you serious right now?”

He swallows hard. “I wasn’t gonna let you leave thinking I didn’t mean it. That you were just some... random screen name.”

“Riki—”

“No,” he says, stepping closer. “Let me talk. Please.”

Your heart races. Your throat tightens.

He exhales. “I don’t care who’s watching. I don’t care if this is pathetic. I’ve never wanted something like this before. Not like this. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You don’t say anything.

He runs a hand through his hair.

“I messed up,” he says. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve known she'd try something the second I opened up. That’s on me. But don’t let her be the reason we don’t happen.”

You feel the tears sting before they fall.

He sees it.

Softens.

Steps forward like he’s trying not to scare you off.

“I’ve never had what we have,” he whispers. “The FaceTimes. The quiet. The way I don’t need to perform when I’m with you. You didn’t fall for the persona. You fell for me. And I—I need you to know I fell right back.”

You sniff. Wipe your eyes.

“And if that means I have to fly to every city you run to just to say it again, I will.”

You meet his eyes.

“I wanted to believe you,” you say. “I still do.”

“Then do,” he whispers. “Let me prove it.”

You pause.

Search his face.

And for the first time in days, the panic starts to melt. The ache eases.

Not completely. But enough.

You step closer.

And his shoulders drop—like he was holding his breath for too long.

“I hate you,” you whisper.

He smiles.

“No you don’t.”

You shake your head. “I don’t.”

Then, softer: “You’re lucky I like dramatic airport gestures.”

And when you wrap your arms around him, burying your face into the hoodie you never gave back—he just holds you.

Not like he won.

Like he’s grateful you stayed.

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

BONUS :)

Later, after the flight you didn’t take…

You’re on his stream.

Just your voice.

He reads a question from chat:

“Are you guys together now?”

He looks at you off-camera.

Smiles.

Then to the chat: “She’s sitting right here, isn’t she?”

You groan. “You’re so annoying.”

He grins wider. “But you like me.”

And you don’t deny it.

Not this time.

tl: (read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )

[saintspeils]

✮ How I shifted ✮

✧ (And how you can too) ✧

╰☆☆ To start ☆☆╮

i'm sure you've heard HUNDREDS of shifting stories that tell you "all you need to do to shift is simply just decide to." believe me, i get the frustration you feel after hearing/reading that. And while I agree that the common statement is true, it doesn't do much to help you understand it better.

so, i'd like to go in depth about what it means to decide to shift, my first shift, and what i believed changed in me to make that my first successful shift.

My first shift

my first shift was actually at night. i had just eaten dinner while scrolling loablr (love y'all) and wanted to hop into the shower. all those people telling you about their first shifts that ended up being when they least expected it? they meant it 😭

anyways, after i had gotten into the shower, i stood there for a minute with water dripping down on my back. i sort of just zoned out and started to think about shifting as a whole.

it finally hit me, somehow. shifting isn't hard at all. Simply decide to shift, decide that, you, in that moment, have just shifted. truly believe that no matter what you have shifted. And from there i imagined my dr, feeling all of the sensations on my body and looking around my dr room.

and so i decided to believe i had shifted, ignoring the water pounding on my back, and only focusing on my dr. and GIRL, when I tell you what came next was REAL i mean itttt

like no joke it was that deciding factor that accepting shifting was something i had just done was all i needed.

"but sophie! how do i do that!?" ☆☆╮

╰☆☆ well, it's easy.

all of those descriptions you've heard about what shifting really is? That it's just some divine thing that happens when you completely let go and the universe throws you into your dr? that you'll know you shifted when it happens? throw them out of the window immediately.

throw them out of the window. and once you do, decide that shifting is what you make of it. decide that shifting is simply not believing a thing about what this reality has to say. it's what you believe it is.

example, decide that shifting is imagining your dr and taking note of your surroundings. decide that feeling remnants of this reality while imagining your dr don't matter. if you decide that your interpretation of shifting is shifting, you'll have shifted. and in turn, you'll truly have changed your perspective.

the pure satisfaction that comes with your first shift is completely unmatched. so to end this off, im not going to tell you to keep trying, and youll shift eventually. im going to tell you to decide what shifting is to you, and decide you are going to do exactly that.

so go on, don't be shy. go get ur first shift right now and change that part in your bio that says you've never shifted.