lurking after a small hiatus

hi

Apologies again for activity. Miss all y’all to hell and back <3 

Not gonna lie, my tumblr/computer activity is going to suck for a minute. 

If anyone would like to do a m/m rp on kik (or m/f with my female muses), message this or like this and I’ll come to your inbox. Smut, cute, or otherwise. I would be interested in continuing anything I’ve done on here on kik, starting fresh, or planning something entirely new with others.

would like to sincerely apologize for activity on here.

i’ve recently moved to a new city, my stress levels have been through the roof, and i’ve been busy busy busy. also, side note: i just landed a life-changing interview that’s going to double my income if i get it :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D  but i’m busy, so much so that i’m far too exhausted or braindead to even try to formulate replies. i’m still around, i promise. i love everything i’ve plotted so far and everything that i’ve written with you guys. it actually hurts to look at my drafts and see them piling up. 

i’m not saying that i’m on hiatus or anything but i’m appreciative for the patient ones. love y’all bunches and bunches. 

& FHAARI!

Fhaari hates dates. He hates them, hates them, hates them. Part of him would like to think it’s because he’s too mature and monogamous, and not entirely because the nerves end up eating him alive before anything’s even happened. Everything requires too much thought; it’s your first impression after all, is it not? So, of course he’s going to be early, sitting, and probably slowly rotting, in a pressed, designer suit. Of course he’s going to put himself through the torture of checking the clock every two seconds and swirling some weak wine around in a glass, because that’s the other thing, right? That he has to be buzzed, at the very least, to even go through with this. 

Fhaari hates dates… but he hates facing the past even more. History should just— well, it should stay history. It doesn’t need to be walking right up to his table, wearing a grin that does terrible things to the ole’ ticker trapped inside his ribs, and also dressed to the nines. He doesn’t need this. He really, really doesn’t. He’s already nervous, having Max, of all people, really, here isn’t helping one damn bit. Fhaari’s eyes glance at the people behind the blond, mind racing to come up with a response. Is he still mad? Not really, no. Embarrassed? Tremendously so. Fhaari’s temper isn’t always flaming, and it certainly doesn’t always come up in physical confrontation, too. But, more importantly, is he wondering where the hell that black eye came from, too? Well, yeah.

“It’s not your business,” is the first thing he says, voice bashfully low. Hazel irises hesitantly land back on Max’s, and, honestly, Fhaari just kind of really wants to drop dead. Or have the guy in front of him leave him alone. Either is good. “But, I have a date actually, and you’re kind of in his seat right now, so…” His lips twist into a slight frown, and again his eyes flit to the watch on his wrist before meeting Max’s gaze. Or, technically, his black eye because the nerves buzzing beneath his skin have seemed to burn whatever inhibitions he had to a crisp. 

A tug of his lips was all the response Max initially gave to the seated lad. As usual - as if he could really help his body from doing what it naturally opted to do - the smirk spread even wider as he watched his former friend try to formulate a response. Their former departure from each other’s lives was Max’s fault — that much was true. Yet the emotional baggage was made apparent as a one-way street during their prior snapchat throwdown; the blond had actually been shocked to learn that someone he had practically “lived with” wasn’t afraid to dish out sass and irritation so quickly. As expected, nothing but joy swelled in his heart when Fhaari boldly replied whilst attempting to whisk him away. “Funny. I thought I’d seen it all when I checked myself out in the mirror earlier,” he cooed, tone dripping with its usual cocky allure. Though he was notably specialized in displaying what rested under his clothing, Max clutched at either side of the collar along his chest to annunciate his point, taking any opportunity he could to show off. “Yet here you are, on a date. Now I’ve seen it all. Even funnier that I’m here for a date myself — if you can believe it.”

The chair was pushed into its respective slot at the table as the gears turned in his head. Only crowds of importance ever bothered to show up at such a restaurant and Max could feel more than just Fhaari’s curious gaze glancing over at the young boy that hadn’t yet found a seat, clad with a distinguishing mark around his eye. His volume was kept low enough for only the man opposite him to hear, “It’s nice to see that you actually have a pair of balls when you’re not hiding behind a screen. I sorta thought you wouldn’t even talk back to me.” Keen on always leaving with the last word out in the open, the escort pushed away from the chair and began to turn on his heels in search of the hostess’ whereabouts. However, he was just shy of startled when her petite frame, curious eyes that continued shifting toward his black eye, and faux service industry smile were right behind him. With a sing-song voice that explained how good Max had performed for finding his own table, she laid out two menus before each seat and began to explain the specials for guests and patrons that night. 

Max, however, couldn’t quite hear her over the ringing in his ears. White noise had started a soothing rhythm at first, soon snowballing into a stampede of a deafening roar as he realized that the first friend he had made in his time in New York was none other than his blind date for the evening. Out of millions of others, somehow fate had decided to yank his ass back down to reality to have some cruel, sick fun. The boy didn’t really bother to notice when the hostess left nor did he care. Pink petals had softly fallen open in confusion — though the chair was yanked from its home and Max carelessly planted himself, only then glancing across the table to at least relish in the fact that Fhaari was most likely just as uncomfortable as himself. “Well, I’ll drink to that,” he muttered in regards to the incredulity of their situation. Though either were more than capable of ditching their seats and avoiding the date as a whole, Max wasn’t going to dress up for nothing; wine was at the top of his to-do list and an eager thought of picking up where their prior spat had left off seemed like a nice evening. For no other reason than to see if Fhaari would step away from the table first, his mouth just couldn’t stop, “And what does my lovely date think of all this?”

& HARLEN!

Harlen rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t in the mood to fight with the other, so he stepped aside and gestured out of the door, wanting the other to remove himself from the area. Once he was out, Harlen closed the door and locked it before walking with Max. “All of our prisoners were taken from the royal ship. From what I can tell, we have have at least two princesses and the next in line to the throne, so that’s why their clothes are so fancy. What I do down there is none of your business. You know I don’t have a soft spot in me, so obviously that is not the case.”

“Yeah, okay,” the lad retorted with a tone that dripped of sarcasm. Only a sliver of fear had initially washed through Max’s body; he fully knew what the captain was capable of when he was angry. Thankfully his relationship with the young leader was as strong as he had banked on and the two walked through the corridor — but not without Max playfully shoving at Harlen’s side. “You know there’s a soft spot somewhere in there for taking a few of us on as your crew.” Jokes aside, the topic at hand was a juicy one considering the level of wealth and notoriety their current captives boasted. “How long we gonna keep them for? Any special plans with ‘em?”

& JEREMY!

“Hey, long time, no see.” Jeremy chuckled, licking his lips as he eyed the other in his doorway. “You haven’t ever been to my place, have you?” he questioned, brow furrowed slightly before he shrugged and invited the other in. “Sorry my schedule’s been so shitty with filming out of town. I miss that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Right back at you, babe,” Max retorted with a wink — not for a second missing the obvious sign of lust in Jeremy’s eyes as he checked him out. The boy’s cocky ego was always swelling to the point of breaking every time the pornstar made it obvious that his body was wanted. “Nah, just mine. Nice place though,” he offered, glancing around the living area until his eyes inevitably fell back on his friend. “Yeah? Tell me how bad you’ve missed this mouth of mine and you might be lucky enough to get it again,” Max stated coolly, grin never leaving his features.

& RADLEY!

radley: no occasion radley: i’m just a generous boy radley: and u were the most agreeable person in my contacts list

isa: i’m not agreeing that you’re a generous boy btw isa: but i am agreeing to drinks and smoking you out isa: who would say no to ur face ill beat em up

( **& snap ;; backup )

& ERYK!

ERYK: i’m at the barbershop ERYK: been hearing a lot of shit about you ERYK: care to explain who ‘travis’ is?

max: 1) how dare you even snap me max: 2) people talk about me all the time max: 3) i hope your barber sneezes :)

princefaery:

hmu if you’re up for some angry up-against-the-wall kissing

frozenwrites:

frozenwrites:

*whispers* Someone please give me a plot with a reckless underground boxer who cares very little for his life and/or safety and he meets and falls in love with someone who is shy, protective and worrisome at one of his matches and they fight constantly over the issue but they always come back to one another like please?

aph-badtouchtrio:

aph-badtouchtrio:

aph-badtouchtrio:

aph-badtouchtrio:

my brother and his ”“friend“” are having an argument over who would top between them if they were gay together

I’m sitting against his door listening to them and my brother says “i think my dick is bigger so i’d top” and his friend says “well i think mines bigger” and now there is silence i think theyre checking

It’s all quiet and my brother goes “bro, you’re fucking hung”

OK I THINK THEYRE FUCKING I’M GONE GOODBYE I DONT WANT TO HEAR THIS

& HARLEN!

“What are you doing down here?” Harlen scowled at his crewmate, who was standing near the door to the dungeon, no one was supposed to see the captives without his permission, and only very few had that permission, his most trusted advisors and the crewmates from the kitchen.

Max wasn’t exactly the newest of the crew but he still knew that snooping around wasn’t within his respectable parameters of the ship. The stern voice of his captain had the boy freezing up, though he quickly and cockily played off the sudden conversation like it was nothing — which, honestly, it was. “Ay, did you see garbs that newest prisoner was wearing? Just curious as to where he got such fancy clothes is all,” he stated with a grin, showing no hard feelings. “What exactly are you doing down here, Cap? Got a soft spot for the inmates or something?”

wishlist: kik rps, kik/skype bros, chatzy rps for when tumblr muse isn’t around

superxrebel said: f u ……………

ayyy bb y u playin