stayfruityponyboy
3 posts
This is a side blog dedicated to all of my hyperfixations. Hi, I’m Koda. 29. Indigenous. Autistic. Most likely an alien in a human suit.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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First post on this side blog. Also first fic I’ve written for this ship and for the d20 fandom…I’m a little nervous.
I’ve hit a wall with novel writing so I’m revisiting ACOFAF by writing a human au about Rue and Hob.
Coming soon. I’ll share the link to my ao3 when I’ve uploaded the finished one-shot!
For now here’s the moodboard and a teaser.
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The charming bungalow located on 116 Craft Court was grieving. Floorboards creaked with a cadence that mimicked weeping. The windows refused to shut entirely, leaving a sliver of space behind just in case Salt Goblins wanted to crawl through them again. Lights flickered wistfully as the doorbell rang, only to shut off once visitors weren’t revealed to be the three mischievous children this house had witnessed grow up to become curious adults. If the Bungalow could speak, it would ask K.P Hob why its friends hadn’t returned from school yet.
In this hypothetical situation, Hob’s reply would be: “Our Salt Goblins, otherwise known as: Cosmo, Castor, and Crux, are in college now. Which means longer classes. No more arriving home thirty minutes after their school day has ended to terrorize all and sundry.” He might even take the opportunity to teach the house a thing or two by adding: “ You see, a semester lasts three months and the Goblins have only just begun their studies. We’ll see them in time for the Equinox.”
He would then run a hand down the wooden door frame in front of him, as one would offer a comforting hug to a friend in need. He’d force himself to look away from the markings etched into the side, displaying how on one sweltering summer in 2014, Crux towered over her brothers in height.
Hob would eventually continue his daytime rituals, continuing a one-sided conversation with the house. At the end of the day he’d wander into the kitchen to make a cup of tea and set three empty mugs on the table next to him…wishing desperately that the wizard who enchanted his home left an instruction manual for Uncles experiencing empty nest syndrome.
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First post on this side blog. Also first fic I’ve written for this ship and for the d20 fandom…I’m a little nervous.
I’ve hit a wall with novel writing so I’m revisiting ACOFAF by writing a human au about Rue and Hob.
Coming soon. I’ll share the link to my ao3 when I’ve uploaded the finished one-shot!
For now here’s the moodboard and a teaser.
———————————————————————-
The charming bungalow located on 116 Craft Court was grieving. Floorboards creaked with a cadence that mimicked weeping. The windows refused to shut entirely, leaving a sliver of space behind just in case Salt Goblins wanted to crawl through them again. Lights flickered wistfully as the doorbell rang, only to shut off once visitors weren’t revealed to be the three mischievous children this house had witnessed grow up to become curious adults. If the Bungalow could speak, it would ask K.P Hob why its friends hadn’t returned from school yet.
In this hypothetical situation, Hob’s reply would be: “Our Salt Goblins, otherwise known as: Cosmo, Castor, and Crux, are in college now. Which means longer classes. No more arriving home thirty minutes after their school day has ended to terrorize all and sundry.” He might even take the opportunity to teach the house a thing or two by adding: “ You see, a semester lasts three months and the Goblins have only just begun their studies. We’ll see them in time for the Equinox.”
He would then run a hand down the wooden door frame in front of him, as one would offer a comforting hug to a friend in need. He’d force himself to look away from the markings etched into the side, displaying how on one sweltering summer in 2014, Crux towered over her brothers in height.
Hob would eventually continue his daytime rituals, continuing a one-sided conversation with the house. At the end of the day he’d wander into the kitchen to make a cup of tea and set three empty mugs on the table next to him…wishing desperately that the wizard who enchanted his home left an instruction manual for Uncles experiencing empty nest syndrome.
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New blog, new me. Mostly the same kind of content. Here are my all links:
Twitter
AO3
Ko-Fi
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