Quinn, he/it, 20. | I'm a yumeshipper who decided to create a blog here for fun. | will interact thru doubletalkersgem | I am nonsharing in general with whoever I selfship with, I apologize for the inconvenience.
one cool thing about having an autistic dad whose special interest is underwater spearfishing is that when he catches fish he'll just call up a nearby chinese restaurant like "hi. i caught a fish. can you cook it and i'll bring my family by?" and they're like "yeah sure come on over white boy" and the fish is delicious.
it's worth adding that my mom is chinese and she always gets embarrassed by this. like she doesn't want to come to the restaurant with us. she doesn't want to be seen with the white man she caught plus the fish that her white man caught. everyone who works at the restaurant thinks my dad is awesome and compliments him + her for choosing him and we all find this very fun except for her.
hi.. it's me 🥹 hopefully I'm sending this in the right place.. hope I'm not being too greedy by asking for another letter from Double Talker Toontown? still romantic, but would it be possible if you make him sound more sappy? like he's not super formal anymore and he's let his guard down since it's the holidays 🫣 aaa thank you in advance (pls ping @doubletalkershusband)
**Any corporate big wig will tell you how hard it is to be a man of business. Plenty of stress comes with that sort of responsibility, and knowing that, it's always a relief to find a comfort money can't buy. Your letter arrives with the posthound, who with a "WOOOF!" announces your delivery!**
Hello....Esteemed partner,
I keep starting this letter over and over, because every time I try to be clever about it, it feels wrong. Like I’m dodging something important. And I promised myself I wouldn’t do that with you anymore.
So here it is—no polish, no tricks.
I miss you.
God, I miss you so much it’s embarrassing.
I used to think keeping my guard up was the smart move. Say just enough, smile just right, never let anyone see how deep it really goes. But then you came along and somehow made all that feel exhausting. With you, it’s easier to just… feel. To admit that my chest gets tight when you’re gone. That I catch myself replaying your laugh in my head when things go quiet. That some days, the only thing getting me through is the thought of you on the other side of all this.
I don’t want to be the smooth talker with you. I don’t want to hide behind jokes or careful phrasing. I want to be honest, even when it makes me sound a little ridiculous.
You make me feel safe.
You make me feel wanted.
You make me feel like I don’t have to perform just to be worth staying for.
Sometimes I lie awake thinking about how you look when you’re relaxed, when you forget to put up your own walls. I think about how it would feel to be close to you, no agenda, no act—just us, breathing in the same space, knowing we chose each other.
If I’m sappy, it’s because you pulled it out of me. And if I sound vulnerable, it’s because I trust you with it.
I don’t need to impress you. I just want to be yours—and I want you to know that I mean that in the quiet, steady way. The way that stays.
