#i miss writing text message convos

[fiveht]

December 23

First things first: I made a playlist when I wrote Disarm, and it contains all the songs that play in Remus' car, plus a lot more. Just a nice little sampler of 90s alternative. I listened to it a lot while I was writing it, and it's not like, essential to the story, but just in case anyone's interested, here it is! It even includes that one Nine Inch Nails song that Remus so hastily skipped.

I've been writing less than I'd like for the past couple of weeks, due in large part to the dumpster fire that I call my personal life. But I spent this weekend hanging with my soulmate @sadbookboys and managed to get some words on paper, so to speak.

So let's call this proof of life for the sequel to Disarm You With a Smile; I'm working on it, I swear. Here's a little snippet from their first morning together, on December 23.

Sirius is a warm weight on Remus' chest when he wakes, streaky yellow sunrise slipping into the room in the gaps between the dark curtains and the wall. There's no reason to move yet, no reason to do anything, so Remus just shuts his eyes again, giving himself a few minutes to appreciate. Sirius' chest rises and falls in the deep, even rhythm of sleep, and Remus can feel it, can feel the soft puffs of air on his skin. A warm hand rests on his ribcage beneath the covers, and one heavy leg is thrown over both of his. Remus thinks about Sirius rolling over in his sleep, seeking contact, throwing himself bodily over Remus and settling there. He wonders how long they've been lying like this. His back is probably going to give some protests once he tries to move, but he finds it difficult to care about that. He finds it difficult to care about much of anything aside from the weight of Sirius on top of him.

Opening his eyes again, he looks down. Sirius' dark lashes are smudges on his pale cheekbones, and Remus gently brushes a lock of hair away from his face. This is a version of Sirius he's never seen, couldn't have seen before now, and he plans to memorise it. 

He plans to document it.

Slowly, carefully, he reaches toward his nightstand, groping around until his fingers find his phone. The light in the room is low, but Sirius is so pale, the camera has no trouble resolving the details of his face. Remus takes a picture.

He's just dropped his phone onto the bed beside him when he feels Sirius' fingers twitch, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

"Morning," he says, his eyes still closed, his voice rough with sleep and with-- well. Last night wasn't exactly easy on his throat. Remus feels a frisson of arousal skate up his spine. 

Sirius' fingers are stroking up the side of his ribcage, and Remus catches his hand, pulling it out of the covers to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"Morning, baby," he says softly, "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm," Sirius hums, tilting his face up and opening his eyes to smile up at Remus. "Your bed is amazing."

"Good," Remus says. Gently, he eases Sirius off him, rolling him onto his back, following so he can press a kiss to Sirius' shoulder, then his jutting collarbone, then the hollow of his throat. "I have a small confession."

"Oh?" Sirius says, boneless and pliant, sinking into the pillows, still half asleep.

"Mmm-hmm," Remus says, nosing under Sirius' jaw and letting himself breathe in the scent of his skin. "I took a picture of you while you were sleeping."

He feels Sirius' chest twitch with a huff of laughter. "I gave you permission."

"You did," Remus agrees, mouthing at the pulse point in Sirius' throat, his hand trailing across his chest, fingers catching on a nipple. "I just feel like I should tell you when I do it without your knowledge."

"S'okay," Sirius says, sounding a little more awake now, a little more present. "I like it."

"You just looked so pretty," Remus says, tracing Sirius' nipple with a gentle fingertip, feeling it harden into a little peak. "Soft and sweet in my bed."

He mouths a kiss into his sternum and feels Sirius' hand in his hair, just carding through it softly.

"I can't stop touching you," he says into Sirius' skin, though he didn't really plan on saying it at all. It's just the dominant thought in his mind, and has been since yesterday. It might be a problem, but he's having trouble seeing it that way at present.

"I don't remember asking you to," Sirius says, his breath hitching as Remus' fingers trail lightly down his ribs. He's so ticklish.

"But what if I can never stop?" Remus says, smiling, moving lower to mouth at the flat plane of Sirius' stomach. "What if I just have to take you everywhere from now on? Make you come to all my classes… have you sit in my lap during office hours… because I'll just go crazy if I can't have my hands on you every second of the day?"

"I'm sure the university will understand," Sirius says, and Remus glances up to see him biting his lip, smiling, watching him.

"I'll be a living example of an attachment disorder," he nuzzles Sirius's navel, pressing another kiss there. "God, you're so fucking pretty."

Remus trails his hand over Sirius' sharp hip bone, smoothing down to grip his thigh lightly.

"Daddy," Sirius breathes, and Remus closes his eyes as arousal washes over him in a wave. That fucking word. How many times did Remus hear that word from a partner, how many times did he have to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at it? What a revelation to discover that it hadn't been the wrong word at all; he just hadn't found the right person to say it yet.

"Tell daddy what you want, baby."

[r0ttenhearts]

can I request a charac using reader who has a crush on them for their own benefits. while reader is left to wonder why chrc acts like a stranger to reader in public. eventually confronting chrc and them brushing it off as not noticing, being too busy. until reader eavesdropped to a convo with chrc's friend abt chrc just using reader. and reader leaves and ignores chrc for a while and chrc slowly starts missing reader's presence, only to see reader with someone else and confronting reader about it. of course charac won't get the happy ending 😈

(preferably scara, or childe-- if u write for him.)

feel free to ignore, I think I haven't expressed my req properly 😭😭.

also can I be 🌧️ anon ? :>

thanks 🌧️ anon for the request ^^ i hope you enjoy!

not your pet, anymore

scaramouche x reader

warnings: angst, arguments, insults, suggestive mentions

“you love me, right?”

“of course i do, scara. you mean so much to me.” you whispered, fingers running through his hair as he leaned against you. his thick eyelashes fluttered shut, hand on his chest as he lay against you.

the biting cold of fall couldn’t compare to the warmth you two shared, huddled together like this. his cheeks still tinted pink from the cold air, hands cold to the touch, it was just the way you liked him to be. cold enough for him to want to sit close to you and warm up.

touches were not a regular occurrence for scaramouche, he was normally dismissive, claiming he hated the closeness of skin on skin contact. but that wasn’t said when he’d tug at the end of your sweater, asking if he could feel more of your warmth. soft pants escaping your lips, his cold hands wandering, bodies on the cold floor of his bedroom. that’s how you’d spend your days after school.

but this time, with your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as you finished up some of scaramouche’s homework he had passed on to you, something felt different. he was glued to his phone, an unusual smile gracing his lips as his thumbs danced across the device. you frowned, putting down your pen as you watched his face pull up in expressions you had rarely seen.

“who’re you talking to scara?”

“none of your business, (y/n).” he snapped, the smile he had been wearing for a few minutes dropping as his head snapped up to look at you. he sighed dramatically, getting up from the floor as he placed his phone down next to your hand, his face inches away from you.

“so damn nosy (y/n), when you should be doing my essay. are you bored? should i give you more work? or maybe i should let you suck me off, put your mouth to use. i think i like you better when you’re stuffing me in than anything you’ve ever said, anyway.” he sneered, enjoying the silence from you. a slight movement from you caused annoyance to bubbled up inside of him, his face unable to hide that itching feeling.

“you know, if you weren’t like this i’d be nicer to you, hell, maybe i’d love you. fat chance of that happening, i hate you most of the time. the only time i like your mouth open is when you’re making those pretty sounds for me, anything else is just muck.

why’re you so quiet, huh? are you gonna run off to your friends again? tell them how horrible i am? you think someone like collei will bother with you after you tell her what you do in here with me? how you open yourself to me? after swearing to her you’re done with me? you’re fucking something, (y/n). honestly, i’m getting sick of you. can you get the fuck out now?”

scaramouche’s phone buzzes, screen lighting up with a new text message. the both of you glance to it at the same time before he snatches it up, typing away a response as you gather your things without a word. biting your tongue was easier said then done, but you knew the argument would be worse if you said anything to him at all.

with a gentle click of scaramouche’s door, hours had gone by since you made your way home. a warm shower to rid of the nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach, along with the stickiness scaramouche had left you. you weren’t enjoying this, not one bit.

you figured you’d talk to him tomorrow in class, apologize for your inconveniences to him, and have it return to how it usually was after a fight. if you could call it one.

what you didn’t expect was to see scaramouche sitting by the green haired girl, haypasia, his usual seat empty as they sat side by side. quietly setting your things down, you still thought to say good morning to him, as a sign of peace.

standing from your seat, you meekly stood in front of him, hands wringing in front of you nervously. “good morning scara, and haypasia, i was wondering if—“

scaramouche never looked at you the whole time you were standing in front of him, his eyes glued on haypasia as her eyes bore into yours. a bitter smirk on haypasia’s face as she waved you off, scaramouche rolling his eyes before continuing whatever conversation they were having before you interrupted him.

a pain started to form in your chest. that nauseating prick that you’d feel every time you knew scaramouche was fooling around with other girls. cold sweat was all you felt as class droned on, your eyes never leaving the back of scaramouche’s head as his hand would slip underneath haypasia’s desk, sliding her pieces of paper that she would giggle at or turn red to after reading.

why is he being like this? should you have said something yesterday? would the satisfaction of knowing he practically owned you satisfy him enough to not be like this? these thoughts ran through your head until it was time for lunch, that bell being something of a savior as you were freed from seeing him there with her.

childe’s loud laughs caught your attention as he stood with kazuha, an anxious look on the white haired boys face as his eyes locked with yours for a moment. “i mean, just look at her! everyone knows scara is just using her. i heard, he’s been sleeping with (y/n) so he’s good enough to do it with that other girl, whatever her name is. you know her, right kazuha? whatdya think? did you get a piece of her yet too? or is it just scara sinking his claws in her, and something else!”

kazuha’s nervous laugh as childe punched his arm spoke volumes as you stood up, clutching the strap of your bag. kazuha noticed the tears in your eyes as you ran out of the classroom, you had heard every word that came out of childe’s mouth. excusing himself, he ran after you, his soft taps of his feet on the floor in comparison to your loud, cluttered footsteps.

scaramouche heard about this from childe, his demeanor changing once childe gave him the details on how kazuha ran after you. he didn’t know why it bothered him, but it did. no one else should be acknowledging his pet, the one that was so compliant and listened to everything he asked of you.

that’s how he saw you, and that’s all you were to him. right? that egging feeling in his chest as his messages to you were now left on seen more often than not. your cat keychain you hung on your bag that “reminded you of him” being replaced by a charm of a maple leaf, the same one kazuha had on his bag.

it bothered him. and he didn’t try to hide it. every time you’d sit next to kazuha instead of him, he’d grumble under his breath. a part of him ached to see you bare on his bedroom floor again, your fingers running through his hair, your gentle kisses on his forehead when you’d put him to bed when he was in a foul mood. he actually missed you.

but why were you so distant now? surely kazuha wasn’t giving you something he wasn’t, right? he couldn’t. you’d always declared your loyalty to scaramouche, never once breaking it.

then why did you admit you were in love with kazuha? your hands together in front of scaramouche as he scoffs, taking you by the wrist the second those words left your mouth.

“come again? i think i misheard you (y/n). you said you were in love with me just last month. so how do you even think you have feelings for that poet?” his voice wavered, eyes scanning across your face for a sign, a hint of remorse or love that you once held for him.

you shake your head, taking your hand away from scaramouche’s grip but he tightens it anyway. his eyes bore into yours, begging, pleading for it not to be true. for you to laugh it off and say you were kidding.

“he’s.. kind. it’s unlike something i’ve had before, and.. it feels good. it feels good to be wanted, scara. something i never felt with you.”

“something i never felt with you”, those words rung in his head as he laughs loudly, fat tears spilling as he pulls you into his chest. your hands going to push him away as he holds you tightly, laughing through his tears.

“you promised me (y/n), you promised you’d stay. you said you’d stay with me forever, love me forever! please don’t be like them, please don’t let that be a lie.”

“let me go, scara. please.” you whispered, feeling him shake his head as his hands tighten around you.

“n-no, no.. i can’t lose you too. archons, i can’t. what did childe say (y/n)? i promise he didn’t mean it, whatever he said isn’t true! i swear.. let’s just, go back to how it used to be, yeah? you can come over like you used to and- and we just don’t have to have sex. we can do things you like! i swear.. so please..”

his tears had rolled down, coating your neck as he wept. you’d never seen him in such a desperate state. his eyes looking into yours for a hint of what used to be there for him, but there wasn’t. more tears rolled down his cheeks as he let you go. he had fucked up. again. and this time he lost you, the one thing he never thought he’d lose.

“i’m sorry, scara. i’ve moved on. i think you have too with haypasia, you’ll be okay.” you say before picking up your bag, leaving him standing there with a wreck of feelings in his chest.

“you’re just like the rest.” he spat under his breath, harshly wiping at his eyes as the tears continued to flow. a hateful sentence meant to comfort no one but himself. he knew you weren’t at fault for it, he knew one day you’d want something more of him, something he’d be reluctant to give you. the day you finally escaped the clutches of the toxic relationship he had given you, the same day he had deemed the end of his new beginning.

“i never got my forever with you, like you promised. i can’t apologize for hating you for it.”

taglist: @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @kaoriee @samarill

[chartreuxhue]

Warmer - Sova

This was supposed to be smutt, but I couldn't finish it😭😭😭 but thats okay, I GOT THIS NOW!!! (this is so ass)

Pairing: Sova x Gn! Reader

Warnings: suggestive ending

Your freezing hands reached for your tea mug, the steam being visible. Your tablet sat in your lap as you blew air into the mug, an attempt to cool it down before it met your tongue. Your soft lips meeting with the edge of the mug after what felt like an eternity. Your mind wondering as you thought of how you got here, sitting in this small small house in the middle of nowhere with a wood burner that seemed to not burn correctly. How do you burn wood incorrectly? It’s bizarre, you watched the blonde man you lived with show you how to work the damn thing. It only seemed to work when he did it. You send the metal contraption as an evil glance. You have several blankets wrapped around your body, two for your legs, one for your head and another one for your shoulders. Your clothes under the blankets weren’t yours, a larger t-shirt and sweater, along with baggy sweats that you fished out of the small but neat closet. Your tea is cooling faster than you wished and expected. You cupped both your hands around it. The wool soaks up the last little bit of heat before the cold takes it over. You had lost all prior thought of why you're here, your brain focused on one thing and one thing only, finding warmth. 

You stared down into the liquid, the faint sight of your reflection could be seen. Your shoulders slump, eyes closing as you let out a soft sigh. You can’t keep doing this, the almost negative degree weather is going to be the death of you. You can physically feel the way it seeps into bones, freezing you from inside out. You’ve simply tried everything he’s shown you, every single thing, and it's not working. You were two steps away from just sending the man a voicemail and going somewhere warm, maybe you could tell him you’re just home sick. He’d believe it, he knows you miss the warmer weather and family. You could one hundred percent hide your leave behind missing your mom, totally not the negative degree weather that comes with the night. 

You sat the mug down, pulling your hands under the blankets in your lap. What the hell are you going to do now? You’ll freeze to death before you even get the chance to figure it out. Maybe you should write a note to the man, telling him your last words if he finds your frozen body, cold and stiff on the living room couch. You tried to giggle to yourself over the idea. Him walking into the small house snow still in his blonde hair and calling out to you, only for him to find you stiff and unresponsive wrapped up in several blankets. If he were here right now he’d say you’re being dramatic and pull you under the same blanket he's using. 

Your shoulders cave inward, hunching your back as you shook from the cold. You can’t believe that he brought you out here, fully convinced you to move out in the middle of winter. Your eyes staring at the black screen of your phone, contemplating texting him. Would you be distracting him from his mission, would he be upset over it? You’d be leaving him here in this cold and almost empty house when he gets home. It’d be better than staying here in this harsher and colder environment. 

You pulled your hands from under the blanket, reaching for the phone and unlocking it. Fingers tapping away to get to the text chat titled ‘Sasha’, the last convo being 12 hours ago. 12 hours, that’s a long time without the love of your life texting you. You sighed, tapping on the message box and watching as the keyboard came up. How do you word this? You don't want it to sound like you're breaking up with him. A simple “I'm leaving,” does not sound pleasant. An “I wanna go home,” isn’t going to get the emotions across. He’ll be upset, and him being upset while out on a mission is not what you want. 

A sigh leaves your lips as you overcome the urge to leave. Deciding that maybe it’ll be better to stay, and then next time he goes is when you’ll leave. Of course you’ll have a conversation about it, planning when and how often it’ll happen. But for now, live in this cold cold house in the middle of the Russian wilderness as you wait for the man to return. 

And return he does, the sound of the front door opening  goes unnoticed along with the whistling of wind. It takes him a short time to find his way into the living room where you are. Crouched in front of the medieval style heating system he still uses. You’re wrapped up in a blanket, the thick fabric resting over your head and falling behind you like a cape. Your hand holds it together under your chin while the other pokes at the wood in the stove. You're mumbling to yourself, the same kind of mumbling you do when something is upsetting you. 

He lets out a laugh, the sound causing you to visibly jump from his presence. You whipped around to see the large Russian man standing behind the couch. Snow melting into the thick hat he’s wearing. Blond hair falling the same way it always does over his shoulders. A smile present on his face as he looks down at your wrapped up figure. An angry look on your face, he knows that look. It’s the “your medieval stove isn’t stoving” look, and it causes him to chuckle to himself. His hands reach to remove his coat before making their way to you. His hands grabbed at the wood poke, disarming you of a potential weapon. 

“Still struggling with the stove, снежная сова?” 

You nodded, eyes watching as he poked the stick into the wood. The heat seemed to multiply as he pulled the poker out of the stove. Free hand reaching for the cover and pushing it too, latching the small window shut. The room seemed to be heating up faster, a sigh of relief washing over you as the cold air was pushed away from you. Your head leaned to the side, resting on his shoulder as your eyes closed. A sigh came from you before speaking. 

“Welcome home.” 

His deep chuckles sounded in the quiet room. His arm comes around to pull you further into him. It was sweet, not often did he come home in an excited mood. With his work always having to do with the other Earth and him being Brim most trusted. It was indeed nice to see him give a genuine smile after entering the door. His arm held your firmly, far more warmth coming from him than the wood stove that sat in front of you two. His scent fills your nose as you’re taking his every being in.

“Finally,” 

He sighs, the familiar smell of the wood burning in the stove made his muscles relax. A reminder of where he is. Home, no longer out with a gun in hand or laying in those bare and cold dorms of the protocol base. He was with you, your weight on the side, smaller frame wrapped up in the several blankets he has. The familiarity reminds him where he is. A small cabin buried in the snow of a Russian winter, the one he calls home. 

You noticed his silence, the quiet lingering longer than it normally does when he returns. You move to look up at him, his eyes spaced out as he looks at the stove. The slight reflection of the fire dancing in his brown eye, he looked deep in thought, lost. 

“How was the mission?” 

You asked, unwrapping half of the blankets to give to him. He accepts, his hands working to pull the blanket over his shoulders as he thought about how to answer your question. He could tell you the truth, bring up the new agent and the future problems this brings. He could tell you that these problems will mean more time away from home and you, or he could tell you that everything went well and hopefully he’ll be able to spend at least a week or two with you without distributions. But then he’d be lying, giving you false hopes knowing damn well you do not wanna spend more time alone and cold in his cabin without him. That simple thought his fingertips tingle, a weird feeling runs down his spine and even gives him a slight headache. 

“It could have been better.” 

He casts his gaze down at you, that same soft smile on his pretty face as he sits down next to you. He’s coming to terms with everything, more problems with Omega world and even his counterpart, but when you ask he just wants to tell you everything will be okay. Even though he knows it won’t, his mind is busy with more things than needs be. But he smiles at you, deciding that if you probe for more answers he’ll give in, but if you don’t then it will not be your problem to think about. 

He notices how you move closer to him, your arms no longer securing the blanket to you. Instead they wrap around his torso, burying your face in his shoulder. No words, no movement from you. Your warmth is better than any fire he’s sat around in the past week, and it brings him back to you. His own arms finding their way around you, pulling you into his lap. You fix yourself, no longer hugging his side, but now being able to fully bury yourself into him. Your cold nose meets the warm skin of his neck, and he laughs. Hands resting on your hips as he looks down at you. 

“You really are cold.” 

Cold you were and he was warm. Your hands find their way up the back of his shirt, causing the man to slightly shiver. A little giggle leaving your lips as you run your freezing appendages over his back. The little shivers from him caused your hands to continue their assault, you wanted to hear him shiver again. Your fingertips putting pressure on his skin, nails ever so softly scratching at the surface. His lips met your shoulder, an attempt to relax and hopefully spot himself from groaning. A simple action that motioned for you to continue.

Flattening your hands on his back and gliding them up between his shoulder blades before landing above them. Your thumbs work into the tense muscles of his shoulder, trying you hardest to release some of the tension in them. You’d push your thumb into them releasing the knot and then soothing over the skin. The motion causes the man to completely relax in your hold. Shoulders going limp and torso falling into your own. He lets out a low groan. Your hands coming to a stop and pulling him falling into you, a small hum leaving your lips as you smiled.

His hands tighten around your waist as he fully sits up again. An evil looking glint in his eye as he looks down at you. You swallowed, unable to read what the large man's next moves were going to be. His hands move to your thighs as he moves to stand up. Making his way to the shared bedroom, before he throws you down on the bed. A squeal leaving your lips. He still stands between your lips as his hands now rest on your knees. An evil grin on his face as his hands run up your thighs and to the hem of the large t-shirt. That evil glint in his eyes turning into lust, he’s been away from you for far to long. 

“Forget about my tense muscles, маленькая сова. We need to warm you up, can’t have you freeze on me.” 

Translations маленькая сова - Little owl снежная сова - Snow owl

[ask-locke]

Sup, yall can call me Locke

Saw a friend of mine made an account, so Im joining the crowd

Feel free to send me a message, I know Ive got a reputation. Im sure most of what youve heard is true

(Rules, Disclaimers, and Information below)

📍This blog is 18+ only

📍Due to the subjects of the game DoL, there will likely be upsetting themes such as noncon/dub on and violence, continue you at your own risk

📍This specific character may contain themes of cannibalism, necrophilia, animal abuse, and pseudoincest. He is not a good character, continue at your own risk.

Locke the Predator

A 20 year old that refuses to move out of the orphanage and has continuously failed his classes to make sure he can’t be counted as a proper adult. He does not care that he has to keep paying Bailey to stick around, that’s what he wants. Why he chooses to stay despite clearly having the ability to leave is unknown, and when asked he merely smiles in a wistful manner.

His fame is also rather… mixed. Some say he fights to save people, others say he’s just as bad as Whitney’s gang, and some say he’s the worst thing to run into when you’re alone at night. He spends a good amount of time in the forest, seeming uncaring to the possible dangers, some even say he has tamed the wolves, which is just silly! It is not uncommon to see him walking dogs for the pound, and same say that they’ve seen him in Briar’s club at the edge of town. But the sources saying that are unreliable.

Recently, however, some people are attributing the streets having less rapists to him. But that doesn’t make them safer, especially with the rumors that there’s a wild pack of dogs in the alleys at night. A number of bodies have been found thus far, and a number of people have gone missing. There is no correlation amongst the victims.

Locke is Large, Male, and Defiant. He uses he/him pronouns but doesn’t particularly care either way. He currently has no official romantic partner, but he is very interested in someone.

Tag Directory

#ask-answered - Asks that have been answered

#me - Posts by Locke

#vibes - Vibes/Aesthetics/Text Posts that Locke likes

#convo - Interacting with other dol rp blogs

#not-locke - Posts that are not made by Locke

<OOC>

Howdy hey I’m Hemlock ( @hemlocks-hidey-hole ). This is my second dol rp blog, my first being @ask-poethetic

Anything I write that’s OOC will <look like this>

[itsmarsss]

me reading the chapter actuauly

ogm omfgdsjg; d i cant this is so much blitzo constantly thinking of readers words and them lingering in his mind omg i need them to make up i cannot stand this wht he hell he think that no one will be there to cross out the o but i guarantee reader with her saggy ass and titties (as an old lady) would cross the rings to do so

him hating the weekend sfngdg i canot your depictions of him feel so in character it makes me think you are a writer for the show i cannot believe that this fic is literally changing my life (for the better) ofmfks

SEEING THAT TEY TEXTED CONSISTENLY AND IT MADE HIM NOT HATE WEEKENDS AS MUCHDSG and they made it a habit to spend the weeksends together to hate them less i cannot stnat this omsg my heart

"Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs" this took me out SO BAD lmfao i just stared at my screen like

BUT THEN IMEDDIENYL HAD TO TURN AWAY BC OF THE "PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT FOLDER"

mars when i actch you mars i will fnaf jumpscare you irl this is not it. BABRIE AND HIS MOM WHAT IF I BROKE DOWN??? THEN YOU FOLLOW IT UP WITH "blitz is a 35year old single father who kills people...But in this moment… he just wants his mama." LIKE??? HOW DARE YOU ???? THAT IS SUCH A SORE SPOT BC I FEEL LIKE CRYING EVERYTIME I HEAR AB OLD POPEL MISSING THEIR PARENTS AND IT SLIKE FUGHG crying as i think ab it actually whi cant stand this

then his thought process the whole party omg he literally just wanted an escape to not feel. i cant do this anymore him asking loona to call him dad i crided

then when they leave he pulls out his phone to draw and i jsut sdjfdg i died

NOW FOR THE CONVO WITH STOLAS?? UFHH you probably grabbed it from the many ss of their messages that are shown but still omg his immediate backtracking made me want to pull my hair out bc no thats not how you talk UGHHH

then him asking loona if she would be there when he is old and she is like "ill be there dad" i cant i fucking hate this show why would they do that to me (then he vomits)

literally me after reading blitz portion

FIZZ FIDNING READER OGM he must've felt bad bc he was liek "fuckk that was the chick with blitz and stolas oph shit fuck cock"

reader having no one other than ozzie (in that moment) to go to ufhg (get this woman some friends) and their whole convo what if i

her asking ozzie if he thinks she stupid bc blitz words are echoing in her mind just as much as hers did in his omg i need them to kiss and make up please someone grow communcation skills FUCKING

stolas message with her is so late i cant stand this i think i wills start fcrying again

also her expecting a "fuck you" message from blitz only to get something that made her feel better mars stop this

this is madness when i get you i am shaking you really hard LMFAO

anyways those are my thoughts plz tell my u times this bc idk how long this took

this is the most in-depth comment anyone's ever sent me for my writing and i actually wanna cry

every time you talk about how invested in this you are and how much you love it i feel like crying djmdjmvjfk its just like i cant believe someone would care enough to leave me THIS this is so cool and so fucking nice!!

the thing about how he used to hate weekends because it meant he'd be alone and how he stopped hating them once reader came into his life came from a little blurb thingy i never ended up posting, and i felt it fit right into this chapter!

i liked writing this one a lot because the chaos in blitzos head allowed me to be all over the place and cover a lot of different stuff at once lol it was pretty cool

whenever anyone says something abt my writing being really in character it makes me feel so proud i just get so happy that it feels like ya know im taking these characters people care so much for that they're reading fanfiction about them and writing them from my perception and its so cool to have people feel like im doing them justice!!

the death with the sex toys part was a... choice lmao i thought it'd be funny to use the way blitzo's thoughts are all over the place to convey how easily they go from dumb thoughts to really depressive ones

oh the asking loona to call him dad again was added just to hurt yall i wont make excuses its there to be evil lol

yeah the convo w stolas was mostly taken out of the texts we see in stolas' phone in western energy, but i altered a few things here and there but yeah omfg what always got me with those texts is exactly that. like hes so so desperate to have things be okay he backtracks everything he's trying to say just to not feel that blitz is mad at him

i thought i could also add the layer of blitzo beeing too drunk to reply properly which is another reason for the texts to seem so cold

and ohhh yeah the thing with fizz finding her is that its both a 'fuck what i did hurt this girl' and also that kind of 'idk what to do rn' feeling of interacting with your partner's friends who you're not close enough to to have like a real conversation with lol

yeahhh im glad it was possible to catch that lol the chapter was v blitzo centered so we go through reader's pov of things very wuickly but yeah what blitz said abt her kept echoing in her mind just as much as what she said to him did in his!!

i thought the whole 'expecting a fuck you' thing would be fun to add in considering he does consider sending her a fuck you text in the beginning of the chapter lol

and seriously i think having the doodle there instead of just a description of it made it all so much more motional thank you so so much for it!!! i hope you liked the birthday gift!!!! happy birthday babes!!!!!

[thephoenixdescendant]

HEADCANON: HOW THE BF5 TEXT YOU

a/n: hello hello how are ya? I know I've been fucking dead for what, 2 years and then I come back giving ya random headcanons and disappear again for a few months and again randomly come back. I'm a goddamn mess and I'm sooo sorry. I just have poor time management skills and poor mental health. And also lack of motivation. Anywayyyys, here are some headcanons which I have been planning to write for a long time but keep forgetting to do so (also I don't know whether this headcanon was already done or not).

Vert Wheeler

Okay, so this man likes to use proper grammar. Will take his time to text back and NEVER the type to leave you on read, because he thinks it’s rude to do so.

He don’t really use the newer slang a lot.

Uses emojis as a way to express his emotions, and it’s quite literal.

Like this man uses the “😭” as a sign that he’s upset.

Uses the “😂”, “😄”, “❤️”, emoji’s quite a lot.

Long paragraphs about how much he loves you, paragraphs about what happened during missions are to be expected.

Agura Ibaden

Just like Vert, she doesn’t really use newer slang.

Only uses ”😀” emoji.

Will only leave you on read if she’s busy. Otherwise she’ll text back.

Will send you multiple texts but not enough for her to blow up your phone with notifications.

Flirts with you A TON. She may not look like a flirt but, she is. Only to you.

Zoom Takazeumi

Uses a TON of newer slang.

He sends you loooong paragraphs if he’s feeling very romantic and if he deeply misses you if you’re away. But if he’s feeling normal and as always being the goofball he is, he likes to send you short multiple messages.

Uses a lot of emojis.

Zoom: Babe, I miss you so much aaaahhhhh Love you!!! ❤️❤️❤️💗💗💗💗💗💞💞💕💓💓💓💋💋💋💋💋❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️❤️‍🔥❤️🥰💗💘💓💞💋💞💋💗💘💓💋💞💕💜🧡🩵💚💕💞💋❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💕💋💞💕💋❤️🥰❤️❤️🥰❤️🥰🥰💕💕❤️

Never leaves you on read.

Sherman Cortez

Sometimes, you wonder whether if it’s his grandma texting because he texts are so….old people-ish?

He will legit sends you Good Morning and Good Night Images. Something like this:

Very sweet and romantic when he has a full on convo with you.

He usually never leaves you on read and when he does, expect a bunch of apologies and a string of “I love you”’s

His texts range from short to large paragraphs.

He uses slang rarely

Uses a shit ton of emoji’s like Zoom.

Spinner Cortez

Uses a lot of slang

Uses emoji’s more than words tbh.

Obviously, short texts.

Will leave you on read, and will apologize if you get pissed off.

The type to send you a lot of memes. If someone looks through your text messages with him, it’ll mostly be memes that you send each other and reactions from both of you.

Stanford Isaac Rhodes

He’s British and from the royal family…so no slang. He kind of hates it tbh.

Flirts with you (obviously) and also will have a full on convo with you while he’s on the mission (Vert doesn’t appreciate this)

Will send you audios of him singing songs that he wrote. It’s obviously about you.

Sends you selfies of him with a text saying “I miss you, my little angel”

Short texts, but like a bunch of them. Enough to blow up your phone.

Will get insanely nervous if you don’t text him back within an hour if you’re away.

Tezz Volitov

This man is complicated.

This man just doesn’t text and it’s not because he doesn’t like it. He forgets to message people and let them know that he’s fucking alive.

You have to be the one to message him first and he’ll message you back shortly after. (Or like a day later. Depends on how busy he is)

Does not use emoji’s.

There are days were he is the first one to text and those are verrryyy rare. (DO NOT poke him too much on that, that will make him sulk)

AJ Dalton

Blows up your fucking phone with a long line of messages.

And half of the long line of texts are just him correcting himself from that fucking annoying autocorrect.

Sends a bunch of pictures of himself. Either of him taking selfies with random things he finds during missions or of him making goofy faces.

Replies to your messages INSTANTLY. He’s actually looking forward for your message.

Uses a shit ton of emoji’s as well.

[chaotic-on-main]

Hi Sky! I was so excited to see you’re having an event. Congrats for the 250 followers!

I’d like a matcha with cookie crumbles (Levi hurt/comfort). My mother passed away this time four years ago, and it’s always a hard time for me. I was hoping you could write something with Levi helping me through, or maybe us helping each other, since we’ve both experienced that loss.

Thanks!✨💗

Order up!! One matcha with cookie crumbles for Sailor!!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event!

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ hurt/comfort, implied (best?) friends to lovers, parent death mentions, grief

☾ Author's Note ➼ Hi Sailor!! Thank you so much for sending in a request! Sorry it took me some time to get to it though. I was struggling a bit as I have a hard time connecting with this kind of grief. But I think my little sad one-shot about Levi dying opened the floodgates for me so to speak lol. I'm so sorry to hear about your mom, I can't even imagine. I hope this brings you some comfort. <3

Oh shit I forgot to credit @humanitys-strongest-bamf for helping me with the text message convo! Big thanks to her!! Sorry for fucking up your AI tho :c

☾ Word Count ➼ ~1.2k

Sleep doesn’t come easily to you the way it did a month ago. It’s nothing you’re surprised about though; this was normal for this time of year – as it always had been the past 4 years. At this point, it felt as if your body internalized a clock specifically for the month of June. And you hated it.

You find yourself staring up at the dark ceiling. The streetlight right outside your window filters in through your curtains and hits against the wall to the left of you, lighting the room up in a yellowish-orange hue. When you turn your head to the side, you see the clock on the nightstand that reads 1:19 AM in bright red numbers. A car drives past the window, headlights glaring into your room momentarily before driving off into the night.

With a huff, you roll over to your side and grab the cellphone that sits on the side table, unplugged with the charging cable missing. When you click the side button, your eyes squint from the sudden brightness.

A few notifications occupy half the screen, all from the various social media apps that currently sit idle in the background. None of them substantial enough to warrant your attention, of course. No, the reason you grabbed your phone is to message the one number that belonged to the one person you knew would be up at such a late time.  

Your ringtone goes off suddenly, the loud noise causing you to flinch. Levi’s caller ID pops up along with the picture you had chosen without his consent – his face half hidden in a rain jacket hood as he looks over to you. It was from a day a couple of months ago when you both got left at a bus stop and had to find your way back home. It was a snapshot from one of your favorite days with him.

You tap the green icon and press the phone up against your ear as you sit up in bed.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He says back, his flat tone flowing through his mouthpiece and right into your ear. The calm that comes with Levi washes over you instantly.  

“You didn’t have to call.” You scoot back to lean against your headboard as you stare ahead into your room. It’s small and decorated minimally. Mainly because you barely spend much time here to begin with, generally opting to stay in your very personalized office a couple doors down.

“You sound like you need company. Want me to come over?”

“No!” You say quickly as well as a little louder than intended. You clear your throat before continuing, “No. No it’s okay. This is fine. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“If you didn’t want to trouble me, you wouldn’t have texted.” A hint of playful sarcasm slips into his deep voice.

“I- yeah. Again, that’s fair.”

Silence falls upon the room. It’s never uncomfortable for you two. Being friends for years comes with perks like that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He mumbles from the other side. There’s a slight rustling from his end before it stops and all you hear is his soft breathing.

“I don’t know if there's anything else you don’t know.”

“No, but sometimes it helps to talk.” That makes you purse your lips. Raindrops hit your bedroom window, soft but loud enough to reverberate through the room. You don’t recall rain being in the forecast, but that’s summer you suppose. Random thunderstorms at 1:30 in the morning.

“I’m just really frustrated with myself.” You huff out eventually.

You pick at the soft throw that sits on top of your plush comforter. It was a gift from Levi a couple years ago from his own apartment. You said you liked it so much and would claim it every time you all had your weekly group hangouts at his place. He cut out the middleman and gifted it to you. You never struck up the courage to tell him you liked it so much because it smelled of him and it was ironed just right.

“What about this time?”

“I just- it’s been years and my body still won’t let me sleep during this time of year. Once the months turn warm, it’s like I’m not allowed rest. When is this supposed to get easier?” You mutter softly. The rain starts coming down harder, painting your window with rainfall. The yellow glow from the streetlight turns hazy and adds an interesting effect against your wall.

“Grief is funny like that.” Levi mutters back.

“Funny?” You raise an eyebrow; not like he could see it.

“Yes, funny. It’s different for everyone. But one thing stays the same and it’s that even though it may feel like it’s disappearing, it will always come back when you least expect it.”

“What does it mean when I’m expecting it though?”

“That just makes you weird, I guess.” Levi jokes back dryly, though you hear a hint of a smile on the other side, so you know he’s not being serious.

“Your mom meant a lot to you. She was your best friend. Pain like this takes a long time to heal from, you just need to be patient with yourself.”

“Levi… how long did it take you to… you know. When your mom passed?”

There’s silence besides the soft breathing coming from Levi’s end.

“Longer than I’d like, but eventually there came a day where it didn’t hit as hard. I woke up one day and suddenly, thinking about her didn’t ache as much. It worried me at first, actually.” He mumbles.

“Why?” Your eyes drift back over to the window. A distant roll of thunder sounds off.

“It made me feel like a bad son.” He clicks his tongue. A habit he does when annoyed.

“That’s so silly, Levi. You know that’s not true.”

“Yeah, well. It still made me feel like I didn’t love her as much as before. I couldn’t stop thinking I wasn’t as upset because I was moving on from her.”

A soft sigh.

“I realized it was because I had grown to accept her passing. And in truth, I love her even more from it. Every sad thought of her being gone is replaced with the memories I have of her. That will happen to you one day. You’ll wake up and suddenly it won’t hurt as bad.”

“You think so?” You mumble. You don’t notice the tears dripping from your chin onto the soft shirt you were ‘sleeping’ in. Wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, you sniffle as you tuck yourself into your blankets a little more. “Thanks, Levi.”

Instead of a response from Levi, you hear a rattle of keys as well as the closing of a door through the speaker.

“What are you doing?” You bolt upright, your sheets flipping over from the force of your body.

“I’m on my way to you. You said you bought a new tin of tea that I want to try. I’ll see you soon.” He says quickly before clicking off the line. You pull the phone away from your ear and stare down at Levi’s contact screen.

Tea, huh?

[deltaclaws]

Monkie Kid: Creature's Comforts, Chapter 1- A "New" Normal

It's heeeeere! I had a blast writing this and I feel like I'm improving at writing humor. Let me know what you think, and like before you can read it here or on my AO3 page.

___________________

When Monkey King got a new phone at the humble, totally not using his puppy dog face request of his successor, he made the firm rule that only MK would have his number. His reasoning being he was already harassed enough through his email address, and he liked to keep a low profile.

That was broken within the first week as Mei somehow, oh so mysteriously got his contact info, and he only made 15 attempts at blocking her number before he gave in and muted her texts- because every convo ended up the same.

[Mei, pls only text me if its important :/] 8:55 AM

[Kk monkie dad! ⊂((*＞⊥σ))⊃ Dragon horse’s honor (≧ω≦)ゞ] Mei, 8:55 AM

[Thank you] 8:56 AM

[Link: Top 10 Funniest Viral Videos This Week…] Mei, 9:01 AM

[This is super important] Mei, 9:01 AM

It’s not that he wanted to avoid talking with her, she was a good kid!... It was her erratic schedule of messaging that more often than not came well after Nap o’ Clock, or I Wanna Sleep In AM..

So, with Mei being Mei and his phone number unlisted, Wukong only ever heard from MK when he made the once in a while call in lieu of using Mystic Monkey Messaging.

He was thinking of giving the kid a ring now, as it was almost half an hour past their scheduled meet up at his mountain for their (now mandatory) heart-to-heart talk and training. MK was hardly ever late to their sessions, and if he was, he at least gave a heads-up. It was starting to give the king a small, eensy teensy bit of emotion he couldn’t quite name.

Monkey King checked his phone again, and saw no missed calls or messages from his student, which only made the wiggling crumb of… something, settle deeper into his already hungry belly. No one would blame him for worrying about MK after everything that’s happened, but turning into an overbearing parent- which, no, could he call himself that? Was he allowed to?- wasn’t going to help. A nice snack, however, might do the trick.

Just as Wukong was walking into his kitchen to get some chopped peaches from his freezer to settle his stomach and redirect those thoughts, the Super Monkey Mech theme chimed out from his sash.

“Speak of the demon,” he chuckled with relief as he fished out his phone from the folds of his belt. Wukong flicked his thumb, accepted the call, and went rooting for his snack. “Hey bud! What’s the hold up?” he asked casually. 

“Ah, hey Monkey King,” came a gruff, clipped voice. Wukong snapped straight up, a terrible move as he thumped his crown harshly on the inside of the freezer. Beyond the sudden discomfort as he held the top of his head, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, was that shred of emotion now knotting his guts. “First off-”

“What’s wrong.” he interjected. The momentary pain was shunted away- now on high alert, he marched out of his house with purpose. He could hear a creaking noise beyond the grumble of Pigsy’s words.

“I’m trying to tell you- yes, MK, we ARE doing this.”

 “Is he hurt?”

“No, he’s not hurt. If you’d both stop-”

“Do I need to-”

“Would you two quit talkin’ over me at the SAME TIME?!” the irate pig shouted. Wukong halted his forward momentum right as his foot met the first step out of his home, only slightly taken aback, and his ears only slightly ringing from the outburst. There was a crackling sigh and a distant cough before Pigsy continued. “Monkey King, the kid’s fine. Sittin’ right next to me as we speak. Now listen before you come flyin’ over here. Please.” he groused.

“Alright, I’m listening.” Wukong deadpanned as he leaned on the railing of his porch, tail swishing.

Another cough met his ears before Pigsy spoke again. “Ok, I’ve got ya on speaker. Kid, say hi to Monkey King, SLOWLY, so he knows you’re alive.” Wukong wanted to jab right back, but for the moment he felt it would be a little tasteless on his part.

“Hey, Monkey King,” MK rasped after another small cough, sending a warning flag up in the monkey’s mind,  “Sorry I didn’t call. I couldn’t find my phone after, uh, I accidentally broke a couple booths at the sh, sh, sha, shop!” His words broke off into hacking, which quickly rose in pitch. What Wukong heard after the “Hu-geugh!” he would possibly describe as someone slapping their hand across a sound board.

There was shouting- probably Pigsy- some crunching, definitely property damage, and what sounded like glass breaking amongst the cacophony. That new insurance money was gonna go fast.

Wukong waited, eyebrows drawn low as curtains, as nothing but white noise and a withering groan came over the speaker. “Ummm,” he drawled after he heard neither pig nor kid speak up, “Eeeverything good over there?” the king asked, halfway expecting to not get a response.

A grunt was his answer. “Eh, not the worst it’s been,” said a very resigned sounding Pigsy. There was a noise of frustration, along with more wheezing that sounded like a laugh, and Wukong could practically hear the chef massaging a behooved finger between his eyes. “As I was sayin’, MK’s sick. His coughing is making his body freak out, and I need you to come pick him up and take care of him ‘til he’s feeling better. You’re gonna be able to help him more than me right now, and I’d like my shop to at least go one month this year without getting a remodeling.”

“Freak out? Like- No, wait- backtrack,” Wukong frantically waved his free hand, totally visible over the audio only phone call, “MK’s sick? Sick with what?” he asked urgently. 

“It’s just a cold,” MK tried to assert, throat sounding strained, before he was interrupted by Pigsy gently shushing him.

“Kid, you’re a bad liar, and you’re gonna bust a lung at this rate.” he chided, though his voice was far warmer than it was before. Wukong waited for the chef to speak to him again, tail practically swatting a quick rhythm now as he listened impatiently to more shuffling. “Monkey King, just, come over. I’m not gonna be able to make MK budge without your help, and I think this is something you gotta see in person.”

At that he heard an overly offended ‘hey!’ that lost all of its power when the kid’s voice cracked. It eased the tension in his shoulders and abated some of the worry that replaced the foreign feeling from earlier. WIth a chuff, he said “You know, there’s this thing you’re using right now that I’m pretty sure can also take and send pictures, if the lens isn’t busted anymore.”

There was another noise of indignation from MK that bubbled off into a grumble, which was almost entirely obscured by Pigsy’s terse rebuttal. “Alright smart guy, I’m hanging up and helping the kid pack. See you in 10.” Monkey King gave an affirmative hum, tucking his phone back into his sash as the call disconnected.

He let himself droop and fold dramatically over the railing, deflating further as he released a long, suffering, groan. Wukong couldn’t see anything past the legs of his pants, but he heard the light tap-tap-tap of one of the monkeys coming around the porch. With a thump and a graceful landing, his subject sat on his back and let out a questioning chitter.

“Well,” he huffed, scrubbing a nervous hand through his mane. “Looks like we’re not gonna catch a break just yet.”

___________________

The trip over to Megapolis was as easy as any other day, and the 10 minute window gave Monkey King more than enough time to sort out his thoughts and get into his “Everything’s gonna be ok” mindset. Whatever MK had, it couldn’t be worse than being thrown through mountains, punched repeatedly, having the fate of everyone you know and love be put in your hands. You know, the usual!

Thinking about it now, he’s pretty sure he’s never seen MK actually sick-sick. He chalks that up to his successor being an overall healthy kid… for the most part.

Once he entered the city limits, Wukong hopped off his cloud and turned into a falcon, using the gratuitous amount of air pockets to speed over the neighborhoods and towards the food district Pigsy’s shop sat in.

From what he could see as he was approaching, nothing looked out of place; windows weren’t broken, no obvious holes in the walls, no paramedics waiting outside. There were a couple tables and chairs in a very sorry, never will house butts again state by the dumpster- which lined up with what MK mentioned earlier. Though a few easily replaced $25 chairs is hardly as destructive as rearranging entire city blocks in his opinion.

Opting for the quickest route and least likely to have furniture roadblocks, Monkey King dropped down onto the fire escape to enter via the window, which was conveniently already open.

With a flourish and a burst of light, he announced his arrival. “Alright, I’m here kiddooooooh, whoa.”

The kid’s modest apartment looked like it had been ransacked. The bed had a very obvious dip in it, and was very obviously pushed halfway up the opposite wall. MK’s TV laid morosely on its side, sans glass, and a broom and garbage can sat next to it like mourners- the can was also full of the former glass screen and what remained of the shelves the TV rested on. Books and DVDs were stacked out of the way, and what belongings that were still intact were pushed to the side to clear the floor.

MK and Pigsy were finishing up packing the kid’s duffel when he stepped through the window, which Monkey King now realized was entirely blown out and not actually open. His student perked up a little when he saw him, and offered a sheepish smile. “Monkey King!” he said suspiciously quickly, and wow, he looked like he had been caught in a windstorm. “Great to see you! Thanks for coming out, but you really don’t have to look after me.” he squeaked- squeaked!- while he held up his hands placatingly. Pigsy harrumphed and shoved MK’s duffel into his unoccupied arms.

Wukong leveled an unimpressed look at his student and crossed his arms. MK wilted. “You sure, bud? ‘Cause this,” he gestured to the battlefield formerly known as his apartment, “Seems a little beyond your usual organized chaos. I don’t think a simple cold would cause this much collateral damage.” he added casually.

MK broke eye contact and ran a hand along the back of his head, his face flushing the tiniest bit. That’s when Pigsy spoke up. “About that,” he started, grabbing Monkey King’s attention. “Remember what I said about MK’s body freaking out?”

Ah, right. Wukong nodded, signaling for the chef to continue, when MK put his hand on Pigsy’s shoulder.

“I’ll tell him.” he mumbled, sounding awfully weary. MK straightened up, but kept his eyes trained on the floor. He took in a rattling breath before speaking quickly. “I keep transforming whenever I cough or sneeze. I don’t know why. I was fine this morning, and then when I was cleaning the dining room, I just… bwoosh!” he illustrated with spreading his fingers wide in a mock explosion and grimacing. “And since then-” he coughed, and Wukong saw the ripple of gold light cross over his successor’s body. Pigsy tensed and grasped MK’s arm. His fake grimace turned into one of genuine discomfort and both adults could see him trying to hold back another cough. “Since then, I can’t stop. It’s so annoying.” he finished with a slight wheeze to his voice. That feeling Wukong couldn’t quite place before returned, and sat like a rock in his stomach as he watched MK struggle.

Pigsy’s face wore the concern and sympathy they both felt as he gently squeezed the kid’s arm. “It’ll pass, MK. You’ve got your family lookin’ out for ya.” he reassured warmly, and Wukong briefly darted his eyes away. The chef gave a few more comforting pats before he turned back to Monkey King. “MK’s already taken some flu medicine, the rest's in his bag.” he informed him. ”If ya need anything, or something happens,” Pigsy hesitated, “don’t be afraid to call. Kid’s got all our numbers.” Beneath those words, the stone monkey knew there was an unspoken plea.

Monkey King smiled and gave a mock salute. “You got it Pigsy. I’ll make sure he gets plenty of bedrest and doesn’t blow up any more rooms. C’mon bud, it’s time to recover at Flower Fruit Hospital.” That got an eye roll from MK despite the smile tugging at the side of his face.

With goodbyes traded and MK coming to a place of acceptance that yes, he would be going with his teacher, and yes, he will be taking a break, Monkey King stepped back out the window onto his cloud and hefted MK up beside him. He only balked a little bit before his teacher reminded him why riding his own cloud over to the mountain would be a bad idea right now.

Before they took off, MK looked back at Pigsy. “Thanks… both of you.” he mumbled- that sincere, special MK-branded smile on his face.

Pigsy smiled back, and Wukong patted the hand wrapped around his waist. “Anytime, kiddo.” he soothed. Monkey King shifted his stance to better brace against the oncoming wind, wrapped his tail loosely around his student for extra insurance- and in a flash, they were off.

The subtle wiggling at his back let him know MK was watching the noodle shop, until it was too small to pick out from the rest of the buildings and obscured by the low cloud cover that had rolled in.

___________________

It wasn’t until they were gliding over the open ocean that MK spoke again.

“Hey, um,” he tried to say over the roar of the wind. “Is your house gonna, you know, be strong enough?”

Wukong glanced over his shoulder and smiled cheekily. “It’s survived you and our friends for over a year, hundreds of years before that, and has wild monkeys living in it. I don’t think it'll be blown down from your super-sneezes now.” The effect of his friendly jab was immediate as MK let out a strange chirpy laugh.

“Heheh, you got a puh- point-” he started to wheeze, the golden light of his powers flashing over his body as he started to hack. Wukong felt his hackles raise with only a touch of mild panic.

“Hold on, kid!” he sputtered out, grabbing his arm and tightening his grip on MK. His student shifted wildly with each cough, making it harder to keep the firm grasp he had. Wukong watched helplessly as MK flipped through the transformations he had mastered so far- flacon, songbird, spider, falcon, spider- and with a disgustingly wet “Hwack!”, he turned into a gorilla.

The sudden weight shift made Monkey King’s cloud rock back violently, and he was forced to lean forward and throw out his arms to compensate- a move that usually would get him back in control, but with how fast they were going, and having huge gorilla hands partially obscuring his view, it only succeeded in tipping their combined weight too far forward. Pitched off the runaway cloud and both of them too frazzled to think quickly- student and teacher plunged into the ocean below, the latter yelling out “MK!” the whole way down.

As Monkey King surfaced with a gasp and a quick shift into a tortoise, he located MK- now back to his normal-ish self- and paddled over at top speed.

‘I was right,’ he mused morosely as he helped his successor grip onto his shell. ‘We are not catching a break today.’

[c1tyhaunts]

NOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

NAME :  xera.

PRONOUNS :  she / her / they / them

PREFERENCE  OF  COMMUNICATION : 100% prefer discord over Tumblr IM - it's the best way to get in touch with me, and sometimes I love building servers with some of my partners to build dynamics if we have multiple muses - that stuff is a lot of fun and I adore the archiving aspect of it.

NAME  OF  MUSE(S) : the current roster (8) includes: terrah sparkz, lilah lyons, avian esparza, elvira "ivy" d'angelo, nache "che" ferraro, richard "ricky/jacket" fritz*, emmanuel "manny" calavera*, & ayati gadhavi* (* - denotes a canon character i stole from some obscure game, including: hotline miami (ricky/jacket), grim fandango (manny), and return of the obra dinn (ayati)

EXPERIENCE  /  HOW  LONG  (  MONTHS  /  YEARS? ) : god i'm pretty sure since 2012 i've been RPing - from text RP via cell phones, to DeviantArt, to Forums, to Tumblr/Discord; I've been in the game for a minute.

BEST  EXPERIENCE : ohhhhh man, there's so many. and although some feelings have swayed throughout the years, I definitely think the connections I've made through the RP scene are the best part of it. I've genuinely made long time friends through this hobby - people who i talk to on the daily about their lives, people who i've gone to visit personally and hang out with. at the end of the day, the connections made are the biggest and best thing i can get from a hobby. to build a community with great people around me.

RP  PET  PEEVES  /  DEALBREAKERS :  to list a few specific ones (none are directly targeted, but I felt are relevant to me)

Deal Breaker: any weird hatred/blatant misogyny for fem/feminine ocs in the RPC. it's 2024 and i STILL be seeing people hate women or fem ocs so openly? why does this keep happening??? actually, scratch that - just general OC scrutiny drives me wild. most of y'all do know your favorite canon character is a OC who had higher production value, right? so why think most canons are better than ocs when we're all on the same playing field, ya know??

Pet Peeve: style over substance - i appreciate most aesthetics *motions to own blog* but i also have eyes that i need to read or see. I feel like i miss out on a lot of good blogs because i can't read their formatting on their blog or carrd and it's inaccessible :(

Small Pet Peeve: "I just go with the flow" - when I hear this, I usually see most plotting convos go dead in a matter of messages. lbr everybody, we all have dynamics or specific characters that catch our eyes or that we like. I'm so open about shipping and dynamics like, let's throw out something specific and see where that goes. THEN we can "go with the flow" but we can't flow without direction.

MUSE  PREFERENCES  FLUFF,   ANGST  OR  SMUT : Yes.

PLOTS  OR  MEMES :   plotting for me personally - only because I work a full time job outside of tumblr, and i typically won't have time to always write up a reply to a meme or a thread. I adore plotting and world building with my partners especially via discord, so I'd highly prefer that so then it's easier (and motivates me!) to reply to our threads in the process.

LONG  OR  SHORT  REPLIES :   I unfortunately can't do short replies for the life of me - like some people can do one liners so well, but I need to set the scene & actions. So, usually medium to longer replies.

BEST TIME TO WRITE :    i try to reply to threads over the weekends (Friday, Saturday, Sundays) cause that's usually the times I have availability. On weekdays, I'd do memes or headcanons to keep activity up. My muse can be fickle, and although i love to write, I also love to write quality content for my partners so it will take me time.

ARE  YOU  LIKE  YOUR  MUSE(S) : each of my muses have a little aspect of me in them (which is unavoidable if i have the passion to write them) but none of them are me 100%. GOD, I hope none them are like me or I'm like them. some of these people are a fuckin mess.

TAGGED  BY  :   stole it from bestie @abysswarden TAGGING :   YOU!

[durrtydawg]

Hiii it’s me again! I didn’t forget about you! I will send you a direct message after this, but I wanted to entice any other Sam fans to join the convo :)

And yes, your writing is certainly worthy of the high praise! There are some other series I super love by project_icarus and xokiwistarship, but yours and SDTS fics get heavy rereading from me since they scratch my own fanfiction itch.

(TikTok audio) “I love this question!!” I read ATOYO before BSC, in fact, and it’s my favorite so far. Both endings are great in different ways for me. Part 1 I love the dialogue between Sam and the reader, but Part 2 I love the action between Sam and the reader. But Part 2 HITS because I can, like, feel Sam interlacing his fingers with my own or grabbing the small of my back. I love when I get so lost in the text, any text, and it comes to life in your mind.

But yes I’m happy to talk further in the chat! Thanks for indulging me :)

Oh my god this whole message had me sort of squealing and giggling thank you :')

High praise indeed 😭 and to be put on the same level as project_icarus who i am chronically obsessed with??? Got me teary-eyed, babes. Kiwi is incredible- I miss seeing her stuff pop up on my dash I hope she's doing well.

I am so so glad you like both endings. Honestly I feel like the reason I didn't initially post the second (my fave one) is because it doesn't end all sweet and cute and that seems to be what the people want (that plus daddy kinks 🥲 no. sorry.) But I love banter and bickering and two people just being downright nasty (in more ways than one) I had so much fun doing it i genuinely need to think of a way to add a third part to the 'series'.

And the fact thay you have visceral feelings while reading words that I've typed???? That makes me feel humbled as FUCK. Thank you so so so much I really needed to hear all this because, in case you can't tell from my lack of posting, this girl is STRUGGLING to finish anything atm.

You may have punched some of the sparkle back into my gut. Thank you <3

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

I do feel bad for all the spam from last night, so I'm just gonna write everything in one message 💺 anon

Firstly, I HAD A DREAM ABOUT HIM!! It was only us at a train station, he was talking on the phone with lem while holding a briefcase in his right hand. We realized the train we have to take is on another platform and we have to use an escalator to get there. But THIS MAN thought "screw that" and started walking there on the railway track while a TRAIN WAS COMING?? The train stopped before it could it him (somehow??) and in true Tan style, he started arguing wirh the train driver (while still on rhe phone with lem) I think my brain combined the fact the ideas of Tan and the train story.

I have no idea if I sended those last night because I found them in my notes this morning so if I did and I don't remember I'm sorry !!

(About whole Morioka scenerio) I already send in two requests so I'm going to save that one for next time!! "just turn it on dnd and his calls go to voicemail" Oh you know we are in for it when he gets home (why does this kinds go well with my smut request?)

Also something I wanted to add : I was so obsessed with the idea of him in our floral stain gown that I forgot about the plaid pj bottoms, they are my favorite so we matching!!

About the him shaving idea, sorry I didn't know if I should add that or not, I got that idea because atj looked like a baby when promoting the movie in Seoul. I would be so sad I'll give him the silent treatment for a few days 😭😭

Reading "my man is texting me" got me blushing like a tomato. I'm alwaye talking about how he refers to us as his wife, the wife and missus, so we also refer to him as my man and my husband!!

I wanna send in more of my own text convos if that's okay, they are so fun to write!!

+ also yes about the femme fatal vibes

💗

😭😭 it’s all good !!

1- YOU HAD A DREAM ABOUT HIM??? OMG IM SO JEALOUS

hate when my brain merges different things that you thought about in the day (but not if they’re good obviously) I had one last night/this morning that I was brushing my teeth and the paste was fluffy and was like expanding foam and was choking on it, all bc when I brushed my teeth before bed I used too much and it was kinda chunky and made me feel sick 😭😭😭😭

i had a small dream about him a couple times but it was a while back and now I can’t remember

2- you’re all good, you sent them in 😭

3- 😭😭😭 it always suits well with tan (I’ll try to worm that in somehow if I can for your request)

4- RIGHT???? I love the idea of him idk answering the postman in the morning and wearing something of yours bc it was the closest/ first thing he could see. then it became a habit of wearing our gowns and stuff. and for us his plaid bottoms and a hoodie (all his)🫠

5- HAHAHA no no don’t worry about it, I just meant that it always messes with me and makes me think they’re a stranger bc facial hair is a big part of someone’s face. “I can’t even look you in the face. you look so naked without it” or “I miss your stache:(“ or “haha baby face” I think it’s bc I have a thing for facial hair and id be freaked out not seeing it on someone that’s always had it (I think that makes sense)

6- hehe right??? he deserves to be spoken about possessively too 😭😭😭 (not even possessive but you get what I mean)

7- ofc yes!! send them in

💓💓

[enigmasandepiphanies]

I am supposed to write a poem but I can't and I haven't written in a year and I really wanted to write on this ever since I had a convo with my childhood best friend about how there are people in my city who have roots. That's the term she used. Roots. They have culture, community, they feel they belong, they miss the city, and the city misses them, their mother tongue is here, their families and friends are and they wanna come back here after all this time and I have been born and brought up in this state but the language is not mine. I don't know anything about my ancestry and my grandparents refuse to talk about how they came into this country, how their religion was stamped on their hands as a plea to keep them secure

and it's fucking hilarious that ik Shakespeare, Premchand, Korean nursery rhymes but the only sentence I can say in my mother tongue is "my name is my name" and that's the only sentence I have spoken to anyone who has asked me to talk in my language and I don't know why that's the first thing, maybe I am trying to prove my name exists in my mother tongue

but it is okay, sun poured heat little by little over my maa's aloe vera plant and I grew up with it, making my own culture like yogurt, like bacteria, like fandom. what is a cultural crisis but a stories that end in a comma rather than a period? I grew up reading books, licking the plate of stories from my dad's mythology tales to my mum's same old lion and the mouse story to second hand books from book fairs to young adult novels

and then I discovered fandom and fan culture and fan community and listen, it wasn't online it was irl at the heart of my two childhood best friends with whom I cried over gay characters because they were prisms of our tattered angsty adolescent selves, I sang kpop songs so loud even though I didn't know the lyrics, yet they were more home than my mother tongue. perhaps home is where all attempts to escape cease to exist

and it was a warm home, stories that matter to me, that i giggled over with a lovenote of shared eye glances in literature classes, guess the character games during sports days and dressing up with our fave story characters on a friend's birthday, jumping in corridors, doing the taekook handshake in the homeroom till we almost missed our school bus, narrating character analysis and fanfic plots in early morning bus rides at fucking 7 am but my bestie's ears didn't bleed because in this city, the only place I belong was in fiction, in stories and languages which I didn't know but called home

but we grew up, some stories remained and some became a ruin without a city, without a location, like language, like my mother tongue

perhaps stories meant so much to me because the people did. in my university's literature class, we talk about adaptation and transformative works but how do i tell my professor that we shape stories as much as they shape us, how do i tell them that i don't ever scream to 'you need to calm down' or 'kiwi' without seeing my best friends face in my head, that when my uni friend texted me about do you know hayley kiyoko i didn't tell her about how I loved her album only because my childhood bestie made me listen to it on my scooty (she's lesbian jesus so ofc ik her), how do I tell new bts armys in the movie theatre where I watched the suga documentary that I forgot taekook handshake because the girl who did it with me lives cities away and forgets to message me sometimes but everytime I meet her she hugs me and my 15 year old self, how do I tell a uni friend that run bts is not the same because the person who laughed with me the most during the new years eve is the same one I said bye to this new years

and then there are other stories of how I haven't eaten raw mango popsicles since a year because I was scared I will get sick. the only reason I wasn't getting sick before was because the person-who-laughed-with-me-during-run-bts told me to shut up and enjoy it , how I can never tell someone about fanfic plots is because my childhood friend lives far away and only she knows what I actually mean when I say love is stored in fan fiction. how I can never sit behind her activa while she tells me the meaning of decalcomania. how the people who reshaped those stories with me never knew how they were so important to me because we were reshaping them together. They were not escapism, they were an explanation to who I am. But perhaps they were escaping their homes and found solace in mine, perhaps they were building my home and their home with me too

and will they ever know that i was giving them the tenderness of my mother tongue? well, ocean vuong said sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you have been ruined. maybe that's why my mother doesn't say any endearments in our mother tongue, because it always ends in partition, a slip of the tongue.

people often tell me that my tenderness is not the tenderness they wanted and it sucks because I try and try and still fail at love languages. sometimes I think I don't know how to give tenderness because I wasn't taught my mother tongue and I constantly seek refuge in another language. how to give tenderness when you have been unkind anyway?

but stories, they are my migration certificate. my uni friends don't realize that. when they don't understand why fandom and stories are so important to me, I close my eyes and think about how longing is such a gullible word for something so predatory.

oh btw decalcomania is a technique used by some surrealist artists which involves pressing paint between sheets of paper and when you open it it's symmetrical. in the song she and I loved it meant when two people have something in common

but what storytellers and storylovers like to forget is when someone joins you on the page of your book, they will not stay on that page for long

because stories continue and goodness, I actually love life because stories continue

and in the end, I am a fan of many fandoms and ik people who know how much that story meant to them will come back to it, write fics and tumblr posts and lovingly caress that annotated page where we first joined hands

shit I still can't write the poem and this one ends with a comma, but hey stories continue

okkiee lol this was brought to you by this mindfucking convo I had with my friends, but also some of this will actually end up in that poem , this is just a mishmash about cultural crisis, career crisis, do I wanna settle in abroad crisis but in the end stories are always home literally like some people don't understand how big it is for me

and sidenote my friend who has "roots" said this which I think is very sweet ahh

[ofwingsandfury]

Writing Comeback

Hey everyone! It’s been a really long time since I’ve been on here and writing with other people, but I miss it and I am in a good place now. My blog is also under construction.

I'm looking for some long-term rp partners who are 18+, write on discord or here, communicative, and excited to write/plot/scream internally over these characters. I am open and interested to pretty much anything, but I am really wanting to explore the queer relationships. See below for more info & if you're interested in writing, like this post and I'll reach out!

I write at least 2 paragraphs per reply and prefer partners who match length unless we agreed to do text or short convo’s for rapid-firing RP. I love to delve into characters' heads/emotions and describe those in detail - development and relationships always come first for me. That being said, I also love writing smut and weaving it into the plot or doing a smutty bit to blow off some steam here and there.

I consider myself pretty laid-back and understand life comes first - happy to wait for replies but also appreciate partners who let me know ooc if something comes up and they can't respond for awhile (and will do the same on my end). I typically respond at least once a day in the evenings (Hawaii timezone), sometimes more sometimes less, because I do work a 7:45-4:30 and I have a partner.

I can sometimes be a little shy so anyone who likes this I’ll also message you as well, but don’t feel afraid to just jump straight into my dms. 

[uniasus]

Misconception Car Brainstorm

Thank you 2hr car trips where I just daydream fanfic, I suppose. Not sure if I'll actually write this story as it's now complete in my head, but figure people might enjoy the summary? Shout out to Misconceptions by Kukiwi, which jumpstarted my brain on this idea

------

Atem works first one long night a week, then it becomes more consistent working for Kaiba. Atem gets less communicative and misses planned events, and eventually stops answering his texts. Yugi takes steps to cure loneliness - late nights at the store, hanging with friends. 

Over the 3-4 months as communication between them dissolves as Atem's work at KC gets busier, Atem and Yugi really only connect during their morning routines and Atem gives the conversations they have less and less attention as time goes on. Yugi becomes increasingly worried Atem is having an affair with Kaiba. During this time, Yugi gets an offer from Pegasus - to inherit Industrial Illusions - but before he makes his choice Pegasus offers him a six-month trial period to see if he actually wants the position. Yugi tries to bring this up with Atem, but Atem pays half attention. At one point there is a conversion where Atem asks about a new coffee maker in the kitchen. Unknown to Atem, it had supposed to be an anniversary gift but when that flew by Yugi just put it out for him to use. Yugi says he bought it for Atem with money saved from a lower grocery bill cuz he's cut down on food waste. But in reality, Yugi was able to save for it because Atem hasn't had dinner with Yugi in months and Yugi has stopped buying food for two people. Atem makes that connection later while at work, but while noting it doesn't implement any change in his routine. 

Yugi's birthday happens, and the few nights before it Atem never comes home and he also doesn't show up for the party at the restaurant. One his way home, Joey runs into Atem and Kaiba leaving the office, overhearing Kaiba asking if Atem is again spending the night. Joey explodes at Atem, asking him first why Atem didn't come (encouraging Kaiba to leave with something about Mokuba at the party) and then directly asking if Atem is having an affair. "Yuge will never ask, so I am." 

Atem is shocked, but Joey continues to bring up points about how Atem's habits could be considered as such. Part of this convo includes Joey chastising Atem for never responding to calls or text and Atem being confused because he's not gotten any for weeks. Pulls out his phone as proof and Joey is originally confused to not see himself in Atem's call record but then points out that's a KC phone, and not his personal one. To his horror, Atem realizes he turned off his personal cell phone during a meeting and never turned it back on, solely using his work phone (and thus talking to Kaiba) the past few weeks. Joey fumes, did Atem not think it strange to never get a text from Yugi? Or that he never started a chat with Yugi on his work phone, sharing the number? Joey ends by saying he's really hoping Yugi takes Pegasus's offer cuz Yugi obviously needs a break from Domino. "You might not be bending Kaiba over a table, Atem, but you're giving all your attention to that bastard. Yugi hasn't been a priority in your life in months." Joey says not to expect Yugi at home that night. They've been feeding him drinks since he's been sad. Joey insinuates Yugi may in fact go home with someone else (Tea? Rebecca?)

Atem is confused and guilty as he goes home, particularly shocked over the phone. He sits at the kitchen table, reading messages, and notes how Yugi's has changed from hey when are you coming home and playful conversation starters to status updates that have all gone unanswered. There are three texts about the birthday party. While Atem is looking through the phone, he gets two text. One from Tristin (Yugi's at his place). Then another, with drunk spelling from Yugi. He's Pegasus's offer. 

Yugi comes home the next morning, scrambling and hung over as taking Pegasus's offer means hopping on a plane to California the next day. Atem, guilty for a myriad of reasons and essentially panicking when he realizes Yugi is going to be gone for awhile, showers Yugi with attention all day in a love bomb. Atem spends the day trying to reassure Yugi their relationship is still on track and Yugi is #1 in his heart, but Yugi can't 100% believe it.

With Yugi gone, Atem's late hours continue, but it works with the time difference to Cali. Communication restarts between them, but it's touchy because they're now working for rival companies (there's privacy concerns) and they hadn't had a proper convo in months. However, Yugi alludes to a corporate strategy he presented to Pegasus that makes Atem realizes Yugi is good at business. His strategy skills carry over from duel monsters to conference rooms, and Atem is ashamed Pegasus noticed before him. He tells Yugi he should take Pegasus's offer once the job trial is done. Yugi, knowing the implications, panic calls Joey thinking Atem broke up with him. 

Joey checks in with Atem for Yugi's sake, again bluntly asking if Atem broke up with Yugi. Atem sputters no, they're on good terms now because they talk regularly and Joey notes the couple might be on better on better footing but Atem is still just fitting Yugi into his schedule vs making time for him. Atem mentions he's seeing Yugi in nyc the next week. Joey is relieved to hear that, then rambles about Yugi's fearful thoughts as to why he thought Atem had called it off - implications about Yugi taking the job Atem hadn't even thought of such as Yugi moving permanently to California and Atem making no move to cut himself off from Kaiba and Kaiba Corp and the tensions that have arisen from that. Atem decides to not tell Joey that his visit to NYC isn't a couples' vacation. It's a work trip; Yugi and Atem are representing their companies at the US Championships. Atem had made sure to clear his schedule a few hours one night for a single date.

The tourney is a chance for Atem to see Yugi in action as Pegasus's protege. He overhears a convo with Duke about the rights to dungeon dice monsters, which reminds him of Yugi's early talk of a distribution deal. Yugi's business plan is deals and partnerships, kaiba on beating the competition. Mokuba joins Yugi and Duke at some point, and they reminisce about something Atem has no knowledge of. Atem realizes Yugi is building a circle without Atem. It's painful, but also a healthier thing perhaps. Atem wants to go over to say hello, but Kaiba drags him away. Atem and Yugi lock eyes but that's it, and Yugi is upset by it. He hadn't realized Atem would be there for day one. Their date is day three.

Later, Mokuba joins Atem and Kaiba at an event and Kaiba presses his brother for information on why he was hanging with Yugi. Mokuba lets spill that Yugi is working for Pegasus, something Kaiba hadn't known. He's huffy that he hadn't, why hadn't Atem shared that knowledge?

Toward the end of the day, Kaiba corners Yugi for a match. Yugi wants to disagree - neither of them are in the tournament - but Pegasus says why not? A showcase match during the lunch break tomorrow perhaps. It can be a test for the duel stadiums, which were only scheduled to be used for semifinal matches and above. It's a good test for a few concept cards Yugi has developed.

Atem texts Yugi, asking for his hotel room, but Yugi ghosts him. He needs to prep, but he's also upset Atem had planned to be two whole days at the tournament before their date and never let Yugi know or tried to catch five minutes between events during the day. Hell, Yugi had an autograph hour on the event schedule. (the KOG title when to Yugi upon their split. Atem insisted because Yugi did ultimately been Atem at the end)

Breakfast the next morning, Atem gets dragged down with Kaiba, but as he finishes Yugi walks in. It's another miss.

Yugi wins the showcase match, and Kaiba doesn't appreciate Atem cheering for Yugi, and makes a comment about believing they had broken up (echoing the call with joey). This aggravates Atem, of course he's still dating Yugi. He tries to flag Yugi down for dinner, but Pegasus interrupts. Business dinner with the Devlins. Atem will have to wait for his originally planned dinner with Yugi the following night. Yugi continues to be upset/sad because he's continued to only see glimpses of Atem and they haven't had a full conversation yet. Rebecca and Duke are supportive.

The next day, as the dinner date approaches, Kaiba makes a fuss. Work is more important than seeing an old friend. Atem realizes it's not only Yugi and Joey who thinks Atem is/has/considered cheating. Kaiba thought Atem was showing interest in him too - in as much as Kaiba thought romantic interest could be for an aroace guy. Atem balks at it the idea that nearly everyone thought he and Yugi were done/dying and is extremely apologetic as he realizes he's been unintentionally stringing Kaiba along. Atem thinks back to what Joey said in their last call - he needs decisive action showing that Yugi is a priority in Atem's life. Especially after not providing it for at least six months at this point. So he quits. At dinner, he tells Yugi this and asks for a job, doubling down on how the whole reason he'd wanted to stay in this world was for Yugi and he'd been an asshole for not making Yugi realize that. Yugi accepts Atem's apology - helped by a full night of being worshiped ^_~

[solarcandydrops]

I had a friend ondiscord who I liked talking to. This was yeeaarrs ago. We shared some political views. We talked about life. Etc.

Then I lost my home because of a scummy landlord. SoI had nothing. No phone no internet. And that lasted like. Eight months. Where I'd have to drag my pain filled ass body up the road to McDonald's to use their wifi after my then gf sent me oe of their old tablets cause they missed me. When the wifi worked, I'd go to discord and leave everyone messages. But I didn't know most didn't go through until much later. I didn't know half my friend-list wasn't showing up. Bad bad memory.

By the time I had a.bit of access. A plethora of people were deactivated or blocked me. And that friend was deactivated. The last message was theirs and just...nothing? No red text or notifications.

I felt awful. But eventually, I stopped treating myself like a criminal.

And sometimes, like now, I remember them a bit. Not their name but...bits of convos and their general vibe.

If this certain person still follows me. This is what happened. Never thought to write it down here. Ndyskqubdkdh.

But yeah.

This popped into my head

[stfuviolet1]

I know I sent this to you two years ago around this month but if I may be honest, I didn’t know what was I thinking when I sent you the message. No words could explain my feelings at that particular moment. I guess it’s enough to let you know that it took every fiber of my being to send this to you. It was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Watching you slipping away from my memory each day. I guess my ego is too fragile to admit that just like you, I was hurting also.

Funny how even after we broke up, you would check on me a lot. Asking me how was I doing, whether I’ve taken my medicine whenever I’m not feeling well and sometimes you’d you just text me about random things. But ever since I sent this message to you, I never heard from you ever again. That’s because I blocked you right away after I clicked the send button, you didn’t get a slightest chance to explain yourself nor saying goodbye to me. I guess it didn’t matter, cs you were gonna marry her anyway, and you did get married. With someone you once swore you had nothing to do with.

The reason why I’m writing this because I came across our old convos while clearing up my dm. I guess the only memories I had of you is our conversation in twitter and insta as I’ve deleted everything else in my phone. Yes, it was that deep to begin with.

“Sayang, am I such a pain in this ass?”

“Yes you’re such a pain in the ass except MY ass baby. And I’m all good with that”

Sometimes, it got me wonder. Does she drive you crazy like I did? I hope she brings you peace. Even though deep inside, I’m hoping you’d miss my craziness.