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thewriteadviceforwriters · 27 days ago

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🕳️ What to Write When You Have No Idea What Happens Next

aka: you’re staring into the creative abyss and the abyss is not only staring back, it’s asking for a rough draft

hi writer. welcome to that fun little liminal space in your project where ✨absolutely nothing✨ makes sense. you wrote the last scene. you know you’re not at the end. but suddenly your characters are just standing there like NPCs waiting for a quest marker and your brain is doing the spinning beachball of death.

so. what now?

let’s break down some actually useful strategies for when you hit That Point™️. not vibes. not ✨manifest your way out✨ energy. not the “just keep writing” slog. here’s what to do when your story is refusing to tell you what happens next:

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zoom out: do a “scene audit” ———————————————

you don’t need a full outline to do this. take five minutes and sketch a bullet list of every scene that’s happened so far. not just what happened, but why it mattered.

like this:

MC lied to their boss (sets up stakes re: trust/power)

antagonist shows up at cafe (establishes tension + location crossover)

best friend gets suspicious (emotional complication, adds pressure)

this gives you a birds-eye view of what you’ve set in motion. often you’re stuck because you’ve lost sight of the threads you were pulling, your own story has momentum, you just need to feel it again.

—————————————————————

try “ghost drafting” (aka fake writing) —————————————————————

open a doc. start typing what would happen, if you were writing. super casual. something like:

“okay i think the next scene is maybe them at the train station?? or wait--maybe we need to see the fallout of the argument. i don’t really know what x character wants rn but i think y might be planning something…”

this trick works bc it removes pressure. no fancy prose, no perfect structure. it’s literally you telling yourself what might happen. and weirdly? your brain will often finish the scene for you without asking. (the number of times I’ve ghost drafted myself into 800 usable words… witchcraft.)

——————————————————————————

pin your characters to a corkboard and interrogate them ——————————————————————————

not literally. (unless you're into that. i don’t judge.)

but seriously: when you’re stuck, it’s often because your character has no immediate goal or emotion. pause and ask:

what does this character want right now? like, in this moment?

what are they trying to avoid?

what’s keeping them from getting either?

character-driven scenes are rarely static. even if it’s just an awkward dinner or walking to the store, someone’s always trying to do or hide something. if everyone in the scene is just reacting or waiting, you’ve got fog. bring in the fire.

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don’t skip the “boring” stuff--weaponize it —————————————————

sometimes we’re stuck because we think the next scene is dull. like “ugh i guess they just… travel to the manor” or “they regroup at the safe house.” but these slow beats are GOLD if you embed purpose.

try giving the “boring” scene:

a time limit or interruption (they’re hiding but someone knocks)

a secret (someone is lying about something small but important)

a reversal (what they expected is the opposite of what happens)

even if it’s a quiet scene, layer it. conflict isn’t just yelling or action. it’s discomfort. it’s misalignment. tension between what’s said and unsaid.

—————————————————————

when all else fails: write the next emotional beat —————————————————————

strip it back. forget plot. forget pacing. ask yourself:

then write that. a monologue. a journal entry. an outburst. a line of whispered dialogue.

sometimes it’s not that you don’t know what happens next. it’s that your character hasn’t processed what just happened, and until they do, the story can’t move forward.

✨✨✨

the void is normal. getting stuck doesn’t mean you failed or picked the wrong idea or that the muse packed up and left for a better writer’s house. it just means your brain needs space to regroup.

writing isn’t linear. stories aren’t built in perfect lines. they loop. they stall. they circle back. and that’s okay.

if you’re in the middle of nowhere, here’s your sign to sit on the side of the metaphorical road, open your weird little notebook, and write anyway. write wrong. write messy. write ghost drafts. the path shows up when you start walking.

🕳️ you got this, writer.

tag me if you end up crawling out of your stuck scene with a little victory paragraph. i’ll bring snacks for the next one 🧃✨

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

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teaboot · 1 year ago

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Because a few have asked

Teaboot's Super Okay Guide To Developing A Brain That Makes Art Work

Or: How to get your eyes to talk directly to your hands without your brain micromanaging you

Or: How to draw better

⚠️ Warning for super fast gifs cause they all gotta be 5 seconds or less or else my phone shits the bed ⚠️

1. Do the following exercises. Don't just think about doing them or figure out a clever way to not do them, just do them. Yes even the boring ones and the ones that look ugly

2. If you have any pride, crush it. Kill it. Crunch it up into itty bitty bits and feed it to the ducks at the park. You have no talent and don't know anything and everything you make is hot garbage. Believe that. Make yourself believe that. That is where you live now. Surrender any indignation or shame you have to the void and embrace rock bottom.

3. Read step 2 again and actually do it this time. My methods will not work if you try to make this process pretty. Don't.

4. No drawing from your imagination on these. Actually draw from real life. If it's boring like eating day old oatmeal in in beige room but your usual art still feels wonky then I'm talking to you specifically. You can't write poetry until you learn words and yes learning words is as dull as horseshit sometimes but do you wanna be Robert Frost or not

5. Pick up some cheap paper and a ballpoint pen. Grab a small object, between the size of your hand and the size of a microwave. Set a timer for fifteen minutes. Put the tip of your pen to the paper and press "start".

Now without looking at your paper, only looking at the object, draw the object in as much detail as you can. Do not break contact between the paper and the pen tip until the timer goes off.

This is a continuous line drawing, and you're doing it in pen because you need to know what rock bottom looks like and rock bottom looks like no eyes no erasers no shading no do-overs.

6. Sit down in a public place. As someone walks by, draw their their body in as much accuracy as you can before they are no longer in view. Once you can't see them anymore, the drawing is done. No adding details. Pick someone else and do it again. No "base sketch". Just them. If it barely looks human you're doing great

7. Get a black pen. Put a small object on a dark, flat surface. Now draw the surface without drawing the object. Don't draw the outline of the object. Don't do a sketch. Just draw the surface that is visible around the object until only a silhouette remains. No time limit just do it.

The ability to draw accurate proportions from sight comes from learning to see what exists between a thing and the absence of a thing and if that hurts to think about then you need to do it more

8. Keep doing these until you are Ready.

9. You will know when you are Ready. It will make sense when you are Ready. You will Understand.

10. Unwind with some goofy shit so you don't forget why you wanna improve to begin with

#Teaboot #Art tips #Gifs #flash warning #Flickering

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undyingdecay · 25 days ago

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thoughts on a threesome with bob and john?? (coming from a sentryagent shipper but i understand that’s not everyone’s cup of tea so no pressure!!)

(i personally don’t ship anyone, like at all from mcu, i dunno it’s just not my thing—so i don’t really mind whatever ship it is!)

okay — now sit down and listen to my ted talk this shit is important!

john and bob fighting between your legs.

at first, it had started innocently enough — well, as innocent as anything could be in this fucked-up dynamic you three had spun yourselves into. john had slid down your body, the heat of his leaking cock dragging against the comforter as he settled between your thighs. lazy, languid strokes of his tongue against your soaked flesh, beard rough and wet with your arousal. it was meant to be quick, meant to be simple prep so you could take him without a struggle. he was always the one that insisted on it, gruffly muttering about “not splitting you open” like he hadn’t done it before.

but bob, bless his restless, boyish heart, couldn’t sit still to save his goddamn life. getting bored of mouthing at your neck, which had already started to bruise under the attention of his sharp teeth and wandering lips, he slithered down the bed like a heat-seeking missile, plastering himself beside walker. walker, whose beard was already slick and shining with you, shot him a glare sharp enough to kill. but bob, that manic glint in his eyes, just grinned, scooting closer until his shoulder bumped against john’s.

and that was when it started — the bickering. actual, honest-to-god arguing with your pussy inches from both their faces. john grumbling through gritted teeth, telling bob to “back the fuck off” while bob teased in that airy, singsong voice of his, saying shit like, “didn’t know you were so greedy, johnny,” flicking his tongue at you just to be an ass. the air grew thick with tension, the sharp, heady scent of sex and musk clinging to everything.

after what felt like forever, someone — you couldn’t tell who — finally put their tongue back on you, and then, maddeningly, you felt two. both of them, clearly trying to outdo each other, sloppily lapping at you, and more than once their tongues bumped into each other . a low growl from john, a boyish snicker from bob, neither one willing to back down.

that was ten minutes ago.

now, they weren’t even pretending it was about you anymore. they were making out against your cunt, mouths sliding hot and wet over each other with your arousal smeared between them. instead of swapping spit, it was you they were trading, tongues tangling, slick sounds filling the room. the flicker of eerie, unnatural light from the tv cast their bodies in shifting shadows, the faint oppressive feeling of the void hanging like a ghost in the corner of the room — it always did when bob was around too long, like the universe itself knew it wasn’t quite right.

you heard it then — that breathless, boyish giggle that could only belong to bob.

“your beard tickles,” he whispered against john’s mouth, and you could feel john sneer, feel the possessive grip of his hands tighten on bob’s hair.

now — different night. or maybe the same. it all blurred together, heavy with sweat and the constant hum of something unnatural lurking in the walls. the void was always there when bob hung around too long, like a weight on the air, a static buzz you could feel under your skin.

it was always inevitable when john was in one of his pissy moods — you’d learned that early. you tended to keep your distance, giving him space, while bob, little menace that he was, always found new ways to poke the bear. this time, whatever had happened, it had landed both of you in trouble.

the air was thick — stifling with sex and sweat and the cloying scent of musk. the sheets a wreck, bodies tangled. you were at the bottom of the pile, back pressed into the mattress, thighs spread wide with bob sprawled on top of you, his flushed, tear-streaked face buried in the crook of your neck. his voice, cracked and high with need, babbling things like, “john, please,” and, “hurts ‘s good,” and even a desperate, delirious, “mommy!” directed at you. you could only assume it was for you, so you pressed kisses to whatever skin you could reach — his temple, his cheek, the sweat-slick curve of his shoulder.

not that he needed to thrust into you — not with john on top of him, big, brutal, unrelenting. driving into bob like he was trying to rearrange his insides, one big hand knotted in that brunette mess of curls, keeping his face pressed into the crook of your neck. you could feel bob shaking, could hear him sobbing out broken little sounds between desperate, choked-off gasps.

every thrust was a sharp, wet slap, obscene sounds mixing with bob’s ragged cries. the whole room seemed to pulse with it.

and then—you and bob, both on your knees. side by side in front of john, who towered over you like something out of myth, cock heavy and flushed, leaking precum you both licked off like it was the last thing on earth. bob was already deep-throating him, lips stretched obscenely wide, tears pricking the corners of his lashes as he forced himself down, impossibly far. no gag reflex. hadn’t had one in years, the little slut.

john had his fingers knotted in those brunette curls, dragging him down until his nose was pressed against his pelvis.

“eyes on me, reynolds,” john barked, voice sharp, dangerous. “don’t you fucking look away.”

and bob didn'tt. big, glassy eyes locking onto john’s, taking every inch like it was his religion.

you watched the obscene bulge of john’s cock in bob’s throat, the tight stretch of skin around it, and you couldn’t help yourself — you leaned in, pressed a soft, tender kiss right against it. a little thing. sweet. cruel.

bob made the prettiest sound. a soft, high whine around the thick length stuffing his throat, and you felt the vibration ripple through to john’s cock.

john groaned.

his hips jerked.

bob whined something that faintly sounded like, 'daddy'.

and that was all it took to send him over the edge.

john’s hips stuttered, a low, guttural groan ripping out of his throat like it physically hurt him to hold back any longer. you saw it — the way his cock twitched, the thick pulse of release spilling down bob’s throat in thick, heavy ropes. and bob, ever the obedient little thing, took every drop, his throat working around it, lashes fluttering like he was about to pass out from the sheer bliss of it.

but what really did it — what made your stomach flip and your cunt clench around nothing — was the way bob looked.

there, kneeling next to you, brunette curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, face flushed an impossible shade of pink, tears still clinging to his lower lashes. and that pale, milk-white fluid trailing from the corner of his mouth, catching on his bottom lip before slipping down the sharp line of his throat, painting a glistening path over his adam’s apple. it was obscene. it was beautiful.

he looked angelic.

like something holy in a blasphemous tableau — ruined and perfect and untouchable all at once.

it made you throb, made your whole body ache to touch him, to claim him, to mark him up and make him look even filthier.

bob pulled off john with a wet, lewd pop, a string of slick clinging from his swollen lips to the flushed head of john’s cock. his cheeks were still hollow, john’s cum still pooling warm and heavy in his mouth as he turned to you. those boyish, glassy eyes locking onto yours with something dark and greedy flickering in them.

and then, slow as sin, he leaned in — mouth still filled, cheeks puffed and pink — and kissed you.

soft at first, just a brush of his lips against yours, tasting of salt and sweat and something dark and bitter. then deeper, filthier, his tongue slipping between your lips, sharing what was left, a messy, indulgent thing that made your toes curl and your head swim.

you could still taste john.

could still feel the buzz of the room — thick with sex and the electric, crawling hum of the void at the edges.

another night you’d never tell anyone about.

another night you’d crave again by tomorrow.

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astronaut-executable · 2 years ago

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i realized a couple days ago that despite the dopamine hit tiktok/instagram give me i kind of just… don’t like them. insta’s comments outside of my small range of followed accs (even on them) are so toxic and honestly annoying and it makes it so much harder to find new ppl to follow and tiktok is just kind of Like That yk. esp cuz their algo changed recently it hasn’t been nearly as fulfilling

#astronautexe.txt #all this to say i’m trying to fill the media void w tumblr #it’s working so far but i forget to go on it as a default #so i end up on tt then get bored/upset #esp w the whiplash you can get with tiktok content #i saw the cutest crush texts post last night followed up with #Here’s this Horrible Statistic about people being hurt.#like okay…#i need to clear out my following list on both platforms tbh

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mooningningg · 4 days ago

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"ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ? ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴀʙɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ?"

Sukuna, Toji, Nanami, Gojo, Suguru, and Choso.

Genre, Fluff!!! Notes, what a fun request from an anon, I had sooo much fun making this.

★ SUKUNA RYOMEN

He was lounging on the couch, one arm behind his head, the TV playing something he wasn’t watching. His son climbed up beside him, plopped onto his stomach, and asked the forbidden words.

“Daddy? How are babies made?”

Sukuna blinked. “What?”

“Babies,” the kid repeated innocently. “Like… where do they come from? How do they get in tummies?”

He sat up like he’d been electrocuted.

“Who the hell taught you that question?” Sukuna demanded, scowling.

“No one,” his son said with a shrug. “I just thought maybe you’d know.”

Sukuna looked around like he was searching for backup. “Shit. Why the fuck ain’t your mother here for this?”

“Is it a secret?” the kid asked, eyes wide.

Sukuna scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, the kind that ruins childhoods.”

He sighed hard, then muttered, “Fine. Babies are made when—when two people… ugh. Never mind.”

“Do you even know, Daddy?” his son said smugly.

“Course I know! I made you, didn’t I?” Sukuna snapped. Then paused. “Shit, that sounded worse.”

He got up. “Go ask your mother. Or Google. Actually, no, don’t Google. I’ll block the internet.”

When you walked in and asked what was going on, Sukuna pointed at your son and shouted, “Your spawn asked me about reproduction. You deal with it. I’m going outside to scream.”

★ TOJI FUSHIGURO

You weren’t home. It was just Toji and his son at the dinner table. Spaghetti night. Sauce on faces. Vibes were immaculate.

Until your kid slurped a noodle and casually asked:

“Dad, how do babies get in mommies’ tummies?”

Toji froze, fork mid-air.

“Uh… what?” he asked, swallowing too fast.

“Like, how was I made?”

Toji looked around. “Shit. I was hoping I’d be dead before this conversation.”

His son tilted his head. “So…?”

“Alright, listen,” Toji muttered, rubbing his face. “There’s a thing called privacy, yeah? And your mom and I—we, uh…”

He trailed off.

His son blinked. “Do you not know either?”

“Don’t get smart with me, I invented you,” Toji grumbled.

Then he leaned forward, voice low.

“Look. When two people love each other, or get bored enough, they… do a thing. A grown-up thing. That ends with nine months of suffering and one hospital bill.”

“Oh,” said his son.

Toji leaned back, relieved—until the boy said, “So like wrestling?”

“…Worse.”

★ KENTO NANAMI

He was reading the paper when his daughter padded into the room and tugged on his sleeve.

“Papa?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She looked up at him, serious as a heart attack. “How are babies made?”

Nanami blinked slowly.

He folded the paper with surgeon-like precision. Set it down. Cleared his throat.

“I see.”

His daughter waited, eyes wide.

“Well,” he said, straightening his tie despite being at home, “When two adults love each other very much, they share a special moment. That moment creates life.”

His daughter nodded thoughtfully.

“And how does that moment work?”

Nanami stared into the void.

You walked in just in time to hear him say, “—and that’s why you’ll learn biology when you’re older.”

You raised a brow. “What did she ask?”

“She asked how babies are made,” Nanami said plainly. “And I gave her a legally sound, age-appropriate, emotionally distant answer.”

“…So you avoided it?”

“I restructured it.”

★ GOJO SATORU

“Dad, how are babies made?”

Gojo choked on his juice box.

You both stared at him as he sputtered.

“Where—where did that come from? Who put you up to this? Was it Nanami? This feels like a Nanami thing.”

“Just tell me!” your child whined.

Gojo held up a finger, suddenly Very Serious. “Okay. But only because I love you and I don’t want you to learn from the internet.”

He bent down to their level. “Babies are made when two adults really love each other. Or when they make a huge mistake. Either or.”

You smacked his shoulder. “Satoru—”

“I’m kidding!” he laughed. “Okay, for real—when two people kiss real hard, and cuddle super close, a magic stork comes from the clouds and—”

“Liar,” your kid frowned.

Gojo clutched his chest. “Wounded! My own child!”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll handle this.”

He grinned. “Please do. I'm sweating.”

★ GETO SUGURU

It was quiet. Too quiet. Suguru was sipping tea, reading peacefully, when your daughter crawled into his lap.

“Daddy?”

He hummed. “Yes, darling?”

“How are babies made?”

Suguru blinked.

Set the tea down. Smiled politely. “You know… I think that’s a question best saved for when you’re a bit older.”

“But I wanna know now,” she pouted.

He tilted his head. “Alright. Well… there’s a seed. A very special one. That’s kept safely in a… garden.”

You walked in right as he said that.

“A garden?” you repeated.

“It’s a metaphor,” he said, not missing a beat.

Your daughter squinted. “So you planted a seed in Mommy’s tummy?”

Suguru smiled. “Exactly.”

You: “Don’t teach our daughter flower sex.”

Suguru: “I panicked.”

★ CHOSO KAMO

He was lying on the floor with your kid watching cartoons when the question dropped like a bomb.

“Dad, how are babies made?”

Choso blinked slowly. “Huh?”

“I mean… where did I come from?”

He sat up, thinking hard. “Okay. You ever seen cake batter?”

Your child blinked. “What?”

“So like, Mommy and I are the ingredients. But there’s mixing involved. Stirring. Heat. A whole mess.”

“Did you bake me?!”

Choso snorted. “Kinda.”

You peeked in from the kitchen. “Choso!”

He turned. “I’m making it fun!”

Your child gasped. “Am I a cupcake?”

“More like a spicy muffin,” Choso said proudly.

You sighed. “I’ll buy a book.”

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ageingfangirl2 · 2 months ago

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Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

PART 7: YOU COME BACK TO THE OFFICE & A SURPRISE VISIT

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN

A FEW DAYS LATER

You show up that morning a little stiff but smiling again. Not the brittle kind from before — a real, if tired, smile. Your eyes still carry the grief, but the weight’s less suffocating now. You even laugh when Sanzu tosses you a new office plant ‘to replace the emotional void’ left by your cat.

You get back to work like nothing happened. But you start to notice things. Kakucho keeps hovering, just enough to be noticeable. Always within a few seconds of you. Koko no longer leaves his phone out when you’re around, like he's hiding a thread he doesn't want you to pull on. Ran and Rindou keep making side comments about ‘people getting what they deserve’ every time the news is on. Takeomi keeps calling you ‘kid’ a little softer now. Mikey, for once, actually nods when you walk past. That alone is suspicious.

At lunch, she leans on the counter in the break room, eyes narrowed. ‘It’s kind of weird,’ she says casually to whoever’s nearby — maybe Sanzu or Mochi. ‘He hasn’t texted. Called. Shown up. Nothing. He’s never gone silent this long before.’

Sanzu, with his usual chaotic smirk, just shrugs. ‘Maybe he finally took the hint. Men like that get bored when they don’t get a reaction, right?’

‘Maybe,’ you say, unconvinced.

That evening, when you’re packing up your bag, Kakucho lingers nearby, pretending to look over a file.

you glance up. ‘Hey… Kakucho?’

He looks over.

‘You’d tell me, right? If something happened to him?’ you ask, not sure if you wanted an honest answer or not.

He pauses. His expression doesn't change much — calm, unreadable- but there's a flicker of something in his eyes. Regret? Protectiveness? A tiny, quiet lie was already forming.

‘He’s not going to hurt you again,’ he says softly. ‘That’s all you need to know.’

And you watch him. Watch the way he says it, like a promise. You don’t push. Just nod slowly, ‘Okay.’ Then, with a small smile, ‘Good.’

And you leave the office like you believe it. But the look on your face as the elevator doors close? You know something’s been done. And you don’t ask again. Because a part of you — a quiet, vengeful part — doesn’t want to know.

You step out of the cab, bags in hand, and see him. Slumped against your apartment building like a kicked dog. Clothes wrinkled. Eye twitching. Hands trembling from either fear or withdrawal — it’s hard to tell.

His head jerks up when he sees her. ‘You have to help me.’

Your blood runs cold. But you keep walking.

He follows. Rambling, ‘I don’t know who the hell you know, but someone’s after me. My car’s gone. My office froze my accounts. People are looking at me like I’m a monster.’ His voice cracks. ‘I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean for—’

You unlock the door, get inside and try to slam it shut. But he shoves his way in behind you. Inside your apartment, it feels like the air itself has gone still.

He stares at you — wild-eyed, desperate — hands out like he still has some right to plead, ‘You don’t get it,’ he says. ‘They’ll ruin me. Just tell them to stop. Please.’

You whisper, voice like glass, ‘Why did you kill him?’

He freezes.

She takes a step back. Another, ‘Why did you kill my cat?’

He flinches like you struck him, ‘You were supposed to choose me.’

That’s all he says before you turn and lock yourself in the bathroom.

You stare at the mirror. Your reflection is pale. Your hands shake. You grab your phone. Contacts. Scrolls.

Detective Yamada — her friend’s cop contact.

911

Koko

Kakucho

Ran

Rindou

Takeomi

Mochi

Sanzu

Mikey

Your thumb hovers. The logical choice is the police. But your breath catches when you think about it: The police couldn’t stop him before. They didn’t listen when he screamed at you. Or gaslit you. Or controlled you. They weren’t there when you got a package with a corpse inside. Bonten was. And they fixed it.

The banging on the door starts up again. ‘Please! Just tell them to stop! I’m losing everything!’

Your thumb moves. Not to the police. You tap Koko’s name.

It rings once, ‘You home?’ His voice is calm. Steady. Like he knew this might happen.

You swallow hard. ‘He’s here,’ your voice shakes. ‘He followed me in. I’m in the bathroom. He’s… losing it.’

There’s silence on the line, then ‘Leave the door locked. We’re on our way.’

No questions. No hesitation. Just a promise.

It doesn’t take long. You sit on the cold bathroom floor, phone still in hand, listening to your ex mutter and pace on the other side of the door. You hear him rummaging through your apartment — opening drawers, knocking something over. It sounds like he’s trying to figure out how to make you help him.

Then you hear something else. Footsteps. Heavy. Measured. The front door slams open with a sound like thunder.

A voice — cold and sharp, ‘Step away from the door.’

Your heart stops. You don’t need to guess who it is. Kakucho. Then Sanzu. Laughing.

‘Aw, look at him. Like a kicked puppy. Pathetic.’

Your ex’s voice turns frantic. ‘Wait, please, I didn’t touch her! I just needed help!’

Ran sniggers, ‘You touched what mattered to her.’

There’s a scuffle. A crash. Something heavy slams into your hallway wall. You stay locked in the bathroom, trembling. Not out of fear. Out of relief.

The violence is swift and controlled — a reminder that this isn’t about losing control.

This is Bonten. They own control. You hear someone punch something — maybe someone — hard enough to make the whole floor vibrate.

Then, Mikey’s voice. Low. Flat. Disgusted, ‘You killed her cat. That was your first mistake,’ a pause, ‘Coming here? That was your last.’

Minutes pass. Then: a knock. Gentle.

‘It’s me,’ Kakucho says quietly.

You open the door slowly. He’s standing there, sleeves rolled up, a cut across his knuckle. He looks at you like you might shatter — but you don’t.

You just exhale, ‘Is he gone?’

He nods once. ‘He won’t come near you again. Ever.’

You walk out into the living room. Your ex is gone. Not a single drop of blood in sight — Bonten doesn’t leave messes — but the air is different. Cleared.

Koko is wiping his hands with a cloth. Ran and Rindou are near the window, laughing about how long the guy lasted. Sanzu’s leaning on the kitchen counter, tossing your keys in the air like they’re a trophy. Mikey is sitting on her couch, unreadable as ever.

They all look up when you enter. Not smug. Not waiting for thanks. Just… watching. Making sure you’re okay.

You walk past them, sit on your couch and exhale again. Then you look up, voice hoarse but calm, ‘So... what now?’

Takeomi shrugs, ‘Now you rest. Tomorrow we say you were sick. Couple days off, no big deal.’

‘And him?’ you ask, eyes fixed on the floor.

No one answers right away. Then, Mikey speaks — so quietly she almost misses it, ‘He doesn’t exist anymore.’

You don’t cry. You don’t thank them. You just lean back and let yourself feel safe for the first time in a long time.

And when you finally break the silence, it’s to say, ‘I loved that cat.’

Kakucho sits beside you. Just nods, ‘We know.’

And that’s enough.

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o-sunny-day · 7 months ago

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@forgettable-au FAN ANIMATION ! LOUD NOISE WARNING!

*What was it all for…?

Song: Vishnu <3 by Peter Cat Recording Co.

…okay.

The main inspiration for this…can be summed up with I LOVE HOW SAD THIS CONCEPT IS. BUT i also adore how WEIRD it is.

This whole thing must be pretty weird and creepy for the characters right??? Like- we dont know for certain what EXACTLY is gonna happen, but we know for a fact that Wingdings finds out hes in a game, then kills himself so he can be closer with god-

THATS PRETTY WEIRD 😭😭 also sad but we can ignore that for now

I also experimented a tad with this in working with silence, so timing things at my own pace! It was really hard! I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!

But, time for my FAVORITE PART….ANALYSIS!!!

DISCLAIMER: some things stated as fact haven’t been said in the blog/arent canon to the au itself, just my animation/theories/interpretation, cause i’m silly and headcanoning :3

TITLE:

The proper title ive given this is “To You” which means 2 different and very vague things. What happened to you? and sending a message like “this is To You”.

In that case, “you” is whichever version of Papyrus/Wingdings/Gaster you want- Its not exactly clear which version of him means “you” which is kinda the point. The lines blur together sometimes…

But yeah, Gaster/crazy WD sends messages TOO himself so they’re “To You”

CONTEXT

Wingdings has JUST turned himself into Gaster. Ignore how impossible Sans interacting with him in this moment is, and just hear me out on the angst possibilities-

SCENE 1

As Sans approaches the mess- Gaster is encased in shadow, and looks at him. Expression not telling much- just looking blankly. Doesn’t even look like he’s alive… just… moving. Also the eye thats open, is just a slit. because- perspective. BUT I also had fun putting that there and going hehehehe it looks like WD/Papyrus’ eye

Sans approaches, and getting engulfed in the shadow, leaving the light.

His expression here was REALLY fun and REALLY hard to draw. Angry? maybe. stunned and terrified? DEFINITELY.

In this context (that doesn’t have a lot to go off of with the comics, YET) Sans knows that this was all very much intentional. He absolutely does not want to be angry, and is certainly only feeling it subconsciously.

But… he wanted so badly to understand, and enter his brother world. But now, Sans is just… Baffled. Hes like “what the fuck did you do???”

SCENE 2

Gaster continues to look blank. Looking up at Sans as he approaches, encasing him in even more shadow.

Sans’ hand reaches to Gasters face. From Sans’ perspective, his intentions are like checking for a pulse. Not literally ofc cause pulses arent on our face- but like, feeling for him. For a sign that something is there. (It’s also meant to be something motherly/comforting)

But then, Gaster leans into the touch, somewhat reciprocating this wordless “ive got you” gesture. That’s what makes Sans go from Terrified to just purely grief stricken. His brother is still alive. And he loves him.

But this form wont last for long…For universe fixing screw ups reasons :D 👍

SCENE 3

Gaster then opens his eyes, revealing hes even still got eye lights available for him. Thats what just SHATTERS the dam, and Sans embraces him suddenly.

SCENE(S) 4

Then, the “reset” happens, Gaster is gone, and Papyrus appears in place of Wingdings in his bed.

Nothing is boiling to add to a “frozen in terror” feeling!

Now- drawing all of the differences between the past and present rooms. DESTROYED ME. i HAD SO MUCH FUN BUT I ALSO CRIED 😭 There are no thank-you letters to santa, no racecar bed, no silly bone painting, no action figures, just BORING

I also wanted to keep everything monochromatic, so ofc we’ve got black and white for the void/Gaster, blue for Sans, red for Papyrus, and purple for Sans and Papyrus together.

The tape recorder and lab coat are still greyscale though cause Wingdings still has SOME of his stuff lying around. But the tapes are indecipherable, and Papyrus threw out that lab coat the first chance he got. It gave him the absolute worst feeling, worse than anything he’s ever experienced.

Something I also really enjoy is the fact that the dress shirts were still technically Wingdings’ but they’re red for Papyrus. The lab coat is the only real WINGDINGS thing that Papyrus wants absolutely no part in. Some things that were Wingdings’ are now Papyrus’ cause :D👍

in place of the bone painting are just family photos that I also have extra to say about. Someday I wanna make a comic of what happened to those/what I think would happen to em.

One day Papyrus is like “HEY UH- SANS! THESE PHOTOS! I DON’T LIKE LOOKING AT THEM! CAN WE NOT!?” Aka, he doesn’t remember these things happening/these photos being taken… BUT THEYRE PHOTOS OF HIM.

So he just feels really uncomfortable looking at memories he should reasonably remember, but doesn’t at all- and Sans gets that. But he keeps em in his drawer. Then! they hung up the bone thing in place of it cause SILLY!

But the family photos, I still had fun with. From left to right theyre a photo of Semi with the twins, the twins as baby bones, then as slightly older kids, then WDs graduation photo.

CONCLUSION!

This entire thing was so much fun, and I feel i’ve really grown as an artist over the process of experimenting and not being knocked down by annoying setbacks,

Also, as usual, Works In Progress’ plus extra behind the scenes stuff will be posted shortly after this!! YIPPEEE!!! HAPPY NIGHTMARES!!!!!

OHHHH ALSO EXTRA ART!!!

“AREN’T THEY BEAUTIFUL?”

That silly moment when your clone is really weirdly obsessed with stars and enthusiastically holds your eye sockets open to show you them

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aakeysmash · 7 months ago

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cw: toxic relationship. sukuna x f!reader. angst. suggestive. no happy ending. unedited because i can't be bothered.

it’s been years since you last heard his name.

it happens randomly. it's cold outside, your breath forming little clouds near your mouth, making you look like a smoker. you're walking inside a cafè after a long day, trying to warm up your hands and face, when, suddenly, you hear it.

a couple just exited from the door you were about to enter in. you don’t know why you stop to look at them, but you do. they're a bit awkward, averting their gazes, and you don't think the cold is the reason why their cheeks are reddening. fingers fidgeting, mouth gaping before closing suddenly.

"i had a really nice day," murmurs the girl. one of her hands is scratching her ear, the other beside her mouth to warm it up. "wanna do it again?"

"i work tomorrow," responds the guy. a wince. a glance to her lips. a subtle half step to get closer to her.

"oh," her face falls. she retreats on herself.

“but we can still see each other,” he rushes out.

a hopeful look. another subtle half step, from her this time. "where do you work?"

"sukuna's corporations, you know, down the street?"

sukuna. your eyes widen. your breath stops. a chill runs down your spine.

the outlines of the couple and of the café blur. suddenly, you're thrown back in time. you see your face in front of you, but you look weird. younger. innocent.

you’re ten. books are all scattered around you, a big red imprint of a hand on your cheek. your mother is high, tumbling over her words and tripping over her feet, screaming at you in the library. everyone is watching, but you don’t shed a tear. you’re so used to this. security comes, just like last week, and the one before that. a boy a little older than you pushes your mother away, offers you a hand to get up from the floor. you notice him: smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, pink hair, black inked bands on his outstretched wrist, probably done by himself without any parental agreement. let’s get you out of here. i’m sukuna.

the scene changes. you’re sixteen. your left ear is bleeding, but a hand reaches out to dab a cotton piece on it. a whisper. an attempt to comfort you from behind you. you try to turn around but you seem to be unable to. it's okay, baby, you look so much hotter like this, i promise. his voice is all around you. condescending, like he always was. more mature than the last scene, almost as if he developed. he’s eighteen, of course he developed.

the scene changes again. you’re outside of a club, he’s coughing blood. he just got out of a fight, you think. you’re crouching to give him a napkin, your hand on his back to reassure him. he grins up at you, red staining his usually pearly white teeth. your breath gets caught again. did his eyes always look so void? i love you, baby, you know that, don’t you? a lie. a smile. a kiss that tastes like iron.

then, the scenes in front of your eyes blur, like a massive sped up version of your last decade.

a cat on the street, you scratching its furry chin, looking up at the man behind you. it reminds me of you when it purrs, sukuna. a bored look. your smile dropping. a fake smirk, his fake kiss on your cheek. you're so cute, i love it. another lie.

his first car, you in the passenger seat, his hand on your thigh, a song playing in the background. i feel like this is our song, baby. a laugh. a kiss. you two fucking in said car, his breath on your ear, your moans in his. never cum like this for anyone else, do you understand? a nod. i love you, sukuna. he doesn't answer.

him moving in with you, buying you flowers every monday, because you told him you love flowers. you're everything, sukuna. tongues swirling. one of his hands grabbing your left boob. i'll always care about you, baby. a bite on your neck. insincere words floating too high for you to see them.

drinking coffee on a snowy morning, him working on his computer, getting snappy when you ask what he's doing for the third time. i'll be big some day. not like you. your gasp. his indifference.

you and him on a jog, him forgetting you’re there, flirting with a girl that passes by. your hurt look. a sorry, whispered on your lips with a flower behind your ear ten minutes later. i only have eyes for you. your faith in him. his averting gaze.

a man groping your ass. his fist colliding with the man's jaw. never touch my fucking girl again. happiness on your face. his arm draped over your shoulder. him massaging your calfs when you get home. you're mine only. forever. don't forget that. his kisses. his possessive hold on your hips when you sink on his cock.

him wiping your tears. him making you cry. him making you laugh about something stupid on his phone. more tears. love letters on your kitchen counter, signed with his name. glasses rimmed with lipstick in the sink, but you don't own that color. messy sheets after you fuck like animals on his birthday. the house empty on yours. his things gone. no texts. no calls. no signs that tell you he's been living inside your house, your head, your heart for 15 years. your fingers frantically pressing his phone number on your keypad for a month straight, going to voicemail. can you come home? did i do something wrong? please, sukuna, i'll be better. i'll never complain about anything ever again. i promise. just come back to me. you're all i want... you're all i have. i'll be whoever you want. whatever you want. please.

your gaze focuses on the café in front of you again. the couple isn't there anymore, and it makes you wonder how much time you spent out here, freezing. it looks like he made it, at the end. you ignore the poster with his company's name near the street you came from.

it happens randomly.

you put your feet one after the other, entering the café.

randomly.

#cw toxic relationship #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x oc #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen angst

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 9 days ago

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Platonic Stobin would definitely enter a dance competition out of sheer boredom and then not tell anyone until it airs on television. The party's all hanging out at Steve's when he changes the channel, and it's dancing! . . . It got away from me:

Dustin: What the hell, Steve?! We were watching - OH MY GOD, STEVE AND ROBIN!

Mike: What?! No, that's not them, Dustin!

Dustin: BULLSHIT, MIKE, I KNOW WHAT STEVE AND ROBIN LOOK LIKE! THAT'S STEVE AND ROBIN!

Will: That is Steve and Robin!

Mike: Holy shit, Will, you're right that is Steve and Robin!

Dustin shrieked and dove for Mike but was pulled back by Steve.

Dustin: WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?!

Steve: Didn't think it was that important.

Max: *scoffing* It's on TV.

Lucas: *pouting* We could have taped it. We wouldn't want to forget our big brother and sister in a big competition.

Steve: I am taping it.

Robin: Aww, Lucas. . .Oooh, look at me! That's the most coordinated that I've ever been.

Dustin: Why did you let Robin lead, Steve?

Steve: *scoffing* Because women can lead just as much as men.

Steve and Robin high fived without looking.

Nancy: You should be proud of those costumes, Steve. They're gorgeous.

Steve beamed.

Steve: I do look great in a skirt.

After it was over, there was a bit of an uproar.

Dustin: BULLSHIT! YOU SHOULD HAVE WON!

Max: "Not appropriate attire or form" Please, that judge was just prejudiced. The couple he picked couldn't dance their way out of a line-up. We should slash his tires.

El: I will look for him in the void.

Lucas: You're not upset that you didn't win?

Steve: We were bored and we just wanted to have fun.

Robin: And cause as much mayhem as possible.

Steve: I loved it when we switched partners with the couple in front of us.

Will: But they didn't show you switching partners?

Robin: It's not that kind of show.

Steve: He gave me a fake number by the way. . .

The Party: Oooooh!

Meanwhile, Eddie who was miles away hiding in Witness Protection with his uncle. . .

Eddie: Uncle Wayne, I love you but why the hell are we watching a dancing competition?!

Wayne: Because I like dancing, boy, quit your yammering.

Eddie: Which is something that you've never told me about and I'm pretty sure the lady agent you've been flirting with likes dance - *Shrieks* STEVE HARRINGTON?! Nope, no, no way! I've just been seeing him everywhere I go! But just to make sure. . .let's see what happens next. . .Okay, either that dude in front has it out for Steve or he wants to fuck him. . .either way, dude's on my shitlist. I hope he loses and his girlfriend. . .well, hell, I think she might leave him for Buckley. . .which leaves him open for Steve. *hisses*

Wayne: *sighs* Lord. For both our sakes I hope we get out of here soon.

#stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #robin & steve #lesbian robin buckley #bisexual steve harrington #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates #the party #eddie munson #with a side of #steddie #i couldn't help myself #rueleigh writes #rueleigh's thoughts

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les4elliewilliams · 1 month ago

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Ellie is away｡｡｡ ⸝⸝⸝ e.williams

Alternative Chapter 5 – 2006, Senior year college

⊹ ࣪ ˖ a/n ﹕it’s been over a year and honestly, most of you probably forgot this alternative chapter even existed or were convinced it was never coming out. yeah… super late, i know, but hey... better late than never, right? :3 i tagged all the people i felt i owed an apology to, both for the heartbreak i caused and for the ridiculous delay. yup, i suck. i know. but at least we finally have the happy ending now??

⊹ ࣪ ˖ wc/cw｡｡｡﹕2k approx. suggestive content?, happy ending! MDNI.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ summary｡｡｡﹕A time before Skype and Facebook. Windows XP just came out, and Windows Messenger was the thing. You finally got a computer just to chat with your friends.

➙ part one, two, three, four, sad ending ˎˊ˗

brickmaster has signed in

ynshere: hi baby ynshere: how was class?

brickmaster: alright i guess brickmaster: boring without Riley brickmaster: i think she's hungover

ynshere: again? ynshere: i don't get why you keep hanging out with her

brickmaster: ahhh shit…here we go again

ynshere: no i'm being fucking serious Ellie

brickmaster: please. i had a really long day

brickmaster: i don't wanna argue

ynshere: see, that's the problem

ynshere: you never wanna talk about things

ynshere: and every time we talk it's "Riley this, Riley that" ynshere: i feel like an afterthought

brickmaster: that's not fair

ynshere: you're right. it's not fair to me

ynshere: you cancel on me

ynshere: you barely even call anymore ynshere: and when we do hang out, you're distracted or talking about her

brickmaster: you're making this way bigger than it is

ynshere: i'm making it big because it hurts ynshere: and i'm starting to feel like maybe you don't want this anymore

brickmaster: don't start with that shit brickmaster: not tonight

ynshere: then when?

brickmaster: i don't know brickmaster: fuck it brickmaster: i'm logging off

ynshere is typing…

brickmaster is away.

ynshere: wait whatever.

brickmaster has signed in

brickmaster: hey brickmaster: can we talk?

ynshere: you logged off on me last night.

brickmaster: i know brickmaster: i'm sorry brickmaster: i was being a dick

ynshere: oh but what's new?

brickmaster: i just didn't know what to say without blowing up

ynshere: and you think leaving me hanging was better?

brickmaster: no brickmaster: it wasn't brickmaster: i panicked brickmaster: i hate fighting with you

ynshere: then listen to me, Ellie ynshere: that's all i've ever wanted ynshere: not a perfect version of you ynshere: i just want you to listen and care about how i feel

brickmaster: i do care brickmaster: you know i care

ynshere: then why do i feel like i'm yelling into a void every time i bring her up?

brickmaster: because you're always on my ass about Riley brickmaster: and it feels like you don't trust me to make my own decisions brickmaster: i know she's no saint brickmaster: but she's been good to me brickmaster: when i was alone

brickmaster: when shit got bad and you weren't around

ynshere: wow. that's not fair ynshere: you knew i was always a phone call away ynshere: i would've dropped everything just to come see you ynshere: but you didn't ask, didn't talk to me ynshere: you just let us drift

brickmaster: i didn't mean to brickmaster: i was just trying to survive

brickmaster: you know i had such a hard time making friends

brickmaster: and now that i do have friends, you hate it.

ynshere: god it's not even about that. it's about how you make me feel.

ynshere: i feel like i'm waiting for my turn to matter again

brickmaster: you do matter brickmaster: i'm just brickmaster: i don't know how to balance it all

brickmaster: i didn't expect you to be mad all the time

ynshere: i'm not mad. i'm hurt.

brickmaster: i'm sorry, okay? brickmaster: i know that doesn't fix it brickmaster: but i'll try harder brickmaster: i promise brickmaster: i'll do better brickmaster: please just… don't give up on me

ynshere: you're asking me to ignore everything i've been feeling ynshere: and just hope it'll get better on its own

brickmaster: i'm asking you to believe me when i say it will brickmaster: i'm still me brickmaster: maybe a messier version brickmaster: but still yours brickmaster: if you'll have me

ynshere: you know i'd never give up on you ynshere: but i'm tired, El

brickmaster: you're more than i deserve brickmaster: i love you

brickmaster: i'll do better brickmaster: please just give me some time to fix it

ynshere: okay ynshere: but don't take too long ynshere: cause i'm here now but i can't promise i'll always be

brickmaster: i know brickmaster: and i'm sorry

brickmaster: i love you. so much.

ynshere: i love you too ynshere: please don't make me regret it

brickmaster: i won't. brickmaster: i swear

ynshere is away.

brickmaster is typing…

brickmaster: can i still come see you this friday?

brickmaster: welp. guess i deserved it

brickmaster has signed in

ynshere: hi ynshere: how was your day?

brickmaster: hey pretty brickmaster: ehh, kinda shit tbh

ynshere: oh no :( ynshere: what happened?

brickmaster: idk brickmaster: everything just felt…off brickmaster: class sucked brickmaster: people were weird brickmaster: Riley and i argued

ynshere: wait, seriously? ynshere: you two never fight

brickmaster: yeah well brickmaster: she was being pushy about something

ynshere: what'd she do?

brickmaster: nothing brickmaster: it was dumb, but still

ynshere: oh Ellie…

brickmaster: i told her to stop and she got all defensive and stormed off brickmaster: and now people are staring at me like i killed someone

ynshere: they've been staring at you?

brickmaster: for days now brickmaster: today was just worse brickmaster: like they know something i don't brickmaster: and it's driving me insane

ynshere: do you think Riley spread rumors around?

brickmaster: she swore she didn't brickmaster: but i don't know what to think brickmaster: i'm starting to feel crazy brickmaster: like i don't know who to trust

ynshere: you can always trust me ynshere: you know that, right?

brickmaster: yeah brickmaster: i know brickmaster: sorry i've been a dick lately. you don't deserve it

ynshere: it's okay ynshere: just don't shut me out, El ynshere: i'm here. i wanna help

brickmaster: you always do brickmaster: maybe too much

ynshere: hey.

brickmaster: no i mean brickmaster: in a good way brickmaster: i don't deserve how patient you are with me

ynshere: yeah well, takes years of practice :p

brickmaster: lol shut up

brickmaster: but really, i'm starting to think you've been right all along

ynshere: now that is some paranormal shit i'm witnessing

ynshere: it's genuinely concerning.

ynshere: WHERES MY GIRLFRIEND AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER??

brickmaster: only you can make me smile in a moment like this

ynshere: :)

ynshere: want me to stay on the phone with you for a bit?

brickmaster: please.

ynshere: yay we get to talk shit about your friends

brickmaster: sooo exciting

brickmaster: just promise not to say "i told you so"

ynshere: no promises <3

brickmaster is typing…

ynshere: c'mon hurry up. call me

ynshere is away.

brickmaster: i love you.

brickmaster has signed in

ynshere: HAII BABYYY ynshere: how are you feelinggg?

brickmaster: hey brickmaster: i need to tell you something brickmaster: god, i don't even know how to start

ynshere: uh oh i don't like the sound of that ynshere: i'm listening ynshere: take your time

brickmaster: remember when i told you Riley and i fought?

ynshere: yeah

brickmaster: i lied about what it was really about brickmaster: i didn't want to tell you brickmaster: i was scared you wouldn't believe me

ynshere: El ynshere: just say it. whatever it is, it's okay

brickmaster: she tried to kiss me

ynshere: …what?

brickmaster: we were in her room brickmaster: just hanging out brickmaster: and she leaned in brickmaster: i swear i pulled back right away and told her to stop brickmaster: and she got all weird and quiet

ynshere: holy shit

brickmaster: then i left brickmaster: and the next day people started acting different brickmaster: whispering brickmaster: staring brickmaster: someone called me a dyke in the hallway yesterday

ynshere: what the fuck.

brickmaster: turns out she's been telling people i got all clingy and weird when she "turned me down" brickmaster: like i'm some creep who couldn't take rejection

brickmaster: i fucking hate this school so much

brickmaster: it's like the Cat thing all over again

ynshere: i'm so fucking sorry

brickmaster: i should've listened to you brickmaster: i defended her brickmaster: over and over brickmaster: even when you were right

ynshere: this isn't your fault ynshere: she's punishing you for setting a boundary

brickmaster: she was my friend brickmaster: and now half the school thinks i'm a predator brickmaster: and the other half just…avoids me brickmaster: like i'm contagious

ynshere: i hate this ynshere: i hate her ynshere: and i hate that you're going through this alone

brickmaster: i'm not alone brickmaster: i have you, right? brickmaster: if you still want me

ynshere: of course i want you, dumbass :( ynshere: you're my girlfriend ynshere: and i believe you ynshere: not her ynshere: i just wish you'd told me as soon it happened

brickmaster: i wanted to tell you sooner brickmaster: but i was scared you'd look at me different brickmaster: that you wouldn't trust me

brickmaster: i don't want her

brickmaster: i'm not into her

brickmaster: god i never even wanna see her again

ynshere: baby :( i wish i could do something

ynshere: i feel so useless

brickmaster: you're doing enough.

brickmaster: i'm gonna try to report her brickmaster: i don't know if that'll do anything…but i can't stay quiet anymore

ynshere: i'll help you ynshere: whatever you need ynshere: even if it's just to sit with you on call while you cry

brickmaster: you're too good to me. you're genuinely amazing

brickmaster: i don't know what i'd do without you. seriously.

ynshere: now you are starting to sound a bit miserable, Williams.

brickmaster: god you're so annoying

ynshere: yet, who do you go whining to, hm?

brickmaster: don't let that get to your head alright

brickmaster: i love you so much

ynshere: i love you more ynshere: always

brickmaster: i think i wanna come visit brickmaster: like soon brickmaster: tomorrow perhaps?

brickmaster: please tell me you're not busy

ynshere: never busy for you. i'll be here ynshere: bring your favorite movie ynshere: and your smellie ass, of course

brickmaster: crying now, thanks

ynshere: bullied you too hard?

brickmaster: yeah, i'm getting soft, i hate it

ynshere: old you would've gotten off to it. drastic character development, to be honest.

brickmaster: i hate your guts.

ynshere: ...but i gotta say, i love it when you don't emotionally barricade yourself :))

brickmaster: i need cuddles so fucking bad

brickmaster is typing...

ynshere: tomorrow, my love <3 ynshere: i'll wait for you, okay?

brickmaster: and to make out for like 5 hours straight

ynshere: oh alright. you ruined it.

brickmaster: what can i say? doctor's orders.

ynshere: freaky ass doctor

ynshere: let's get off here

brickmaster: yes please brickmaster: i want your voice in my ears and your name in my mouth

ynshere: okay horny poet calm down ynshere: call me

brickmaster: calling in 3 brickmaster: 2 brickmaster: 1

ynshere is away.

brickmaster is away.

dinathedrummer has signed in

ynshere: DEEEEEEEEE ynshere: OOOOMYGAAWDDD HI

dinathedrummer: HI BABYGIRL dinathedrummer: i literally was just about to message you

ynshere: SAME BRAIN ynshere: you'll never guess what

dinathedrummer: what whattwhat dinathedrummer: TELL ME

ynshere: I MOVED IN WITH ELLIE ynshere: AHHHHHHHHH ynshere: LIKE OFFICIALLY ynshere: WE HAVE A WHOLE ASS HOUSE ynshere: AND A PUPPY

dinathedrummer: SCREAMING dinathedrummer: A PUPPY??????? dinathedrummer: WHAT KIND WHAT NAME WHAT COLOR

ynshere: A GOLDEN RETRIEVER ynshere: HIS NAME IS NUGGET ynshere: HE'S STUPID AND PERFECT

dinathedrummer: I AM THROWING MYSELF OUT A WINDOW dinathedrummer: WHEN CAN I COME SEE HIM dinathedrummer: AND YOU dinathedrummer: AND THE LOSER

ynshere: as soon as possible :)) ynshere: bring Jesse too ynshere: i wanna show you guys everything ynshere: pls pls pls come visit

dinathedrummer: OK BUT WAIT WAIT WAIT dinathedrummer: BEFORE I SAY YES dinathedrummer: i have to tell you something

ynshere: oh god what ynshere: are you breaking up with me

dinathedrummer: I'M PREGNANT

ynshere: !?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! ynshere: SHUT THE FUCK UP ynshere: YOURE LY^JING

dinathedrummer: NO I AM NOT dinathedrummer: YOU ARE TALKING TO A PREGNANT AND ENGAGED WOMAN RIGHT NOW

ynshere: HOLY SHIT ynshere: I NEED TO SIT DOWN ynshere: WAIT I AM ALREADY SITTING

dinathedrummer: I KNOW IM FREAKING OUT dinathedrummer: JESSE IS FREAKING OUT dinathedrummer: WERE BOTH FREAKING OUT

ynshere: IM FREAKING OUT

ynshere: YOURE HAVING A BABY WTF ynshere: i feel like we're still kids :')

dinathedrummer: i know right ynshere: still not an excuse not to visit though.

ynshere: i will carry you if i have to ynshere: we will roll you through the door on a giant beanbag ynshere: nugget will love you

dinathedrummer: okay, but no Ellie near the baby

ynshere: the baby is still inside you.

dinathedrummer: details.

ynshere: fair enough though ynshere: i'm texting ellie now ynshere: and i am cleaning the house because i want you to think we're cool adults

dinathedrummer: babe be serious... you live with Ellie Williams. dinathedrummer: no one thinks you're cool

ynshere: rude

dinathedrummer: truth dinathedrummer: i love you tho

ynshere: love you too ynshere: i'm so happy for you ynshere: you're gonna be an amazing mom ynshere: and Jesse will be like ynshere: the weird dad who tries to make up raps for bedtime

dinathedrummer: 10000%/^ dinathedrummer: omg i gotta go Jesse is literally eating cereal out of a pot right now i have to stop this man

ynshere: please make sure your baby never hits its head

dinathedrummer: i really hope he doesn't get the Jesse gene

ynshere: HE????

dinathedrummer: gut feeling

dinathedrummer: i'll call you later!!

dinathedrummer is away.

ynshere: you better ynshere is away.

brickmaster has signed in ynshere has signed in

brickmaster: no fucking way

ynshere: LMAO ynshere: AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME???

brickmaster: did your fingers just magically remember the password too?

ynshere: i call it witchcraft ynshere: or maybe the gay nostalgia was too strong to resist

brickmaster: honestly brickmaster: it's been what? six years?

ynshere: five ynshere: don't age us like that

brickmaster: oh i'm not the one aging us, adulthood is.

brickmaster: i'm literally sitting in a break room with a vending machine that ate my dollar

ynshere: i'm in a supply closet with my laptop on a box of printer paper ynshere: we're living the dream, babe

ynshere: god. remember when this was the only way we talked for like… years?

brickmaster: yeah brickmaster: and i constantly kept logging off mid convo like a coward

ynshere: growth <3 …even if you still sulk in the kitchen now when you're upset ynshere: but look at you now ynshere: emotionally available and in real pants!!

brickmaster: these are khakis and i want to die

ynshere: i warned you about office jobs ynshere: now you're just another girl in a polo

brickmaster: ..girl in a polo that says howdy

brickmaster: get it right

ynshere: sigh... i know ynshere: you're lucky i stuck around after your "howdy" phase

brickmaster: you just started saying it back

ynshere: loyalty

brickmaster: love

ynshere: same thing tbh

brickmaster: hey

ynshere: heyyheyh

brickmaster: thanks for not giving up on me back then brickmaster: seriously

ynshere: thanks for growing up with me ynshere: and for making it here ynshere: with me

brickmaster: you ever think about what would've happened if we didn't work out? brickmaster: if we never talked it out that night?

ynshere: sometimes ynshere: and then i look over and see your hoodie on the floor ynshere: and your nerdy cereal bowls in the sink ynshere: and i remember ynshere: we're good ynshere: we made it :)

brickmaster: we really did huh

ynshere: yeah ynshere: when are you coming home btw

brickmaster: uhh getting off earlier today, actually. forgot to tell you

ynshere: oh cool. what's the occasion?

brickmaster: i wanna fuck my fiancee's brains out?

ynshere: alright. too bold. ynshere: log off

brickmaster: thought you were into it last night?

ynshere: i was just shocked cause you proposed midfuck

brickmaster: yeah, after you were moaning like a pornstar. don't twist it

ynshere: pfft, i was faking it

brickmaster: nah. your pussy was literally convulsing around my fingers

ynshere: guess i've gotten real good at acting, huh?

brickmaster: okay, no oat milk for you then

ynshere: and no cookie for you tonight

brickmaster: you're actually a monster

ynshere: mhm a cookie monster. see you later baby?

brickmaster: always

ynshere: oh, and grab oat milk on your way home, we're out

brickmaster is typing…

ynshere is away.

brickmaster: ask your dad

brickmaster: …coward

brickmaster is away.

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