#I'll probably uh... put the full fic on my other blog

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

---------------

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[ghouldtime]

i usually don’t message anyone or anything but i just wanted to say i love your characterizations of konig, ghost, and soap very much. the love and appreciation you have for these characters really come through in your writing.

the cod fandom is full of talented writers but the majority of them write smut. it gets tiring scrolling through the tag and just seeing porn when i actually just wanna see… ppl who enjoy the characters outside of sex appeal, yk? so your blog, truly and genuinely, is a breath of fresh air.

that’s not even mentioning the ppl who write them as abusive or use them to fulfill certain fantasies. i mean i don’t kink shame ofc, but idk sometimes ppl write them in extremely degrading ways that do a disservice to their character and it bugs me a little. plus all the “innocent bimbo reader” rhetoric, idk it gets tiring.

anyway, sorry for the yap session, but i did mean everything i said genuinely !!

💚💚💚💚 Salutations anon! You really don't know how much I appreciate hearing this. Seriously, messages like this give me motivation to keep writing and to stay active on here. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU from the very depths of my heart. You've all been so so incredibly kind, sweet, and encouraging 😭 I don't know what I've done to deserve this but it's appreciated and you all are absolutely awesome. This has made my YEAR, thank you for taking time out of your day to send my silly self a message 💚💚💚💚💚

I'm so so happy my characterizations have hit the mark for some people and that I'm (hopefully) doing them some justice! I'm always worried about that because characterization matters heavily to me and I want to respect their characters and how much they mean to me and other people through it EVEN IF THE WRITERS OF THE LAST MODERN WARFARE DON'T KNOW WHAT A PROPER STORY LINE IS AND KILLED SOAP WHICH I'M NOT FORGETTING, IM NOT FORGIVING, AND IM CERTAIN NOT LIVE LAUGH LOVING WITH IT. I'm refusing to accept he's dead, no matter what they say

I love the boys all so much. They all have such interesting things about them and have a lot more dynamic to them than people think and I just want to represent them right, especially lesser appreciated characters (haven't actually really written for them yet but Keegan, Logan, Hesh, Sandman, Roach, Nikto, Krueger - legit I love them, anyone feel free to send asks or scenarios you'd like I WILL write them. Legit, y'all, you can send me asks about certain characters even if there isn't much on them. I WILL do my research and I WILL write to the best of my ability)

Oh there's many talented writers in the COD Fandom, there really are. I can't say I really know any personally seeing as I never really interact with other blogs but I've seen some reallly really nice fics with so much thought put in them. But equally, there's a lot of just... smut. Not even well written smut, I'm sorry, but a lot of it is just really, really poorly written. I'm all for do what you want, write whatever makes you happy. Freedom of speech! If it makes you happy, cool! But I'm also going to cringe cause a lot of it is... yeah, yikes

Not trying to be the smut police and say every detail must be accounted for and everyone should follow it in a certain way but plz basic anatomy 101, basic prep 101, no guy gal or enby pal will appreciate it if you just shove it in to anywhere dry and I've seen a loooot of that and other things that just hurt?????

I get it, people learn by reading/writing, but this is literally just a single search away. And common sense. There's also a lot of practices being unsafely represented (like fifty shades of gray level) and uh it's not on purpose, it's not meant to be dubious, but it just is written as that. PLEEEEASE please please do some research, the internet is right there

But I felt the same way. Like bless whatever y'all want to write, no shame and NO shade to writing smut. I'll probably eventually do it myself again in the future (undecided on that but it'd likely be a side blog if I do and would never be a main focus, I prefer story over smut action. Once again, no shade and no shame to those who don't, to each their own!). Never ever going to full on NSFW mode or only writing that, I'm always always always going to prioritize writing the characters first and trying to get more stories out there about them :D

But I got tired of opening it and all I see is just... smut, smut, more smut, extremely dubious content x 50. And maybe a sprinkle of normal things or fluff here and there. I just don't look in the tags honestly anymore, because so many people just don't properly tag it or give 0 warning at all, not even under a read more, just BAM, unavoidable unless you flat out don't look at the tags at all

There's more to the characters than just being attractive 😭and I love exploring those aspects of them and trying to figure out why they are the way they are

Also I'm ALWAYS going to have an issue with people who fetishize horrible things. When you're actively fantasizing and writing about someone abusing someone else, like flat out abuse, and being incredibly toxic and terrible to someone - just, please talk to a therapist. That's not social commentary, that's not a proper portrayal of real, HORRIBLE things that affect many people and have very real repercussions - that's perpetuating the negative narrative around a lot of struggles and setting it back by instead turning it into something that's treated as attractive. I really fully can elaborate on this and have a whole rant - but it's not cute and it's NEVER cool to fetishize actual, awful awful things that happen to people. Dead dove doesn't excuse you from judgement - especially when it's not even acknowledged. You're just saying you know what you write is probably morally reprehensible. Hey, I'm going to reprehend and won't respect you at all when you write awful things just cause and get off on it. Think people forget that. Dead dove is a descriptor and doesn't excuse you or make you instantly free from judgement or mean you're not doing something problematic/disgusting. It's just saying you know it is, that's about it.

I don't get why people do that when it's clear they have no idea what they're talking about. I've seen that a lot with the bully! Things. Like... wow, clearly some of you WEREN'T bullied and you're writing about it and it shows because if you were, hey, you know how fucking awful that shit is and how it leaves life long effects. Not saying this applies to all but there's a lot I see like that where it's just ".... wow, okay, so you don't have any idea what you're talking about, cool."

AND YEAH the mischaracterization really does do a great disservice where it's clear they're just after the characters for their physique. They just warp them so bad it's like "Are we talking about the same character?" . In AUs you get to explore that and can shape them to your wants, that's your choice! Highly recommend AU's, it allows so much freedom.

But when it's like.... regular? And it's just no where close and they're doing a 180 in how they actually are (like having Ghost flirt with strangers and be big scary daddy dom im sorry he's not at allllll) I don't get it and it's clear you really aren't writing about or for the character - at that point, plz, make your own characters. Just make your own OCs, it's great! And you can make them HOWEVER you want instead of just ignoring a character's characterization to make them fit what you want. And guess what? It's your character so you can TRULY do what you want and have them the way that you want instead of bending characters to fit a box that they weren't made for

I'm not saying you HAVE to write a character the same as me or in a specific way, but when it's a character with an established personality/backstory, the least you can do is follow that outside of AU's if you're writing for them. That's... the whole point of writing that character - I don't get why you'd write for them specifically if you're literally going to ignore everything about them

SPEAKING OF THE INNOCENT BIMBO THING, I'm also really not a fan. Once again, if that makes you happy to write or read, cool! I just am NOOOOT a fan. Why does the reader always have to be so small and so delicate and so pure/innocent? Why does the reader have to be just so UWU coded? Why are they always like "oh you're so little and small :( and just don't know any better" . It's either that or they're John fucking Wick with little in between. Pleeeease it hurts my soul

Its why I try to genuinely write a neutral geared reader with reactions that will likely fit a lot of people! I'm always taken out of a story's immersiveness when it mentions something like like your hair length or how uwu small you are in comparison. Give me just... average sensible reader. Give me reader who has realistic human reactions. Give me reader who isn't perfect, give me a reader who isn't magically special or different. Give me a reader who is just doing their best, who is THEMSELVES, with no intent otherwise. I love those fanfics so so much instead of trying to feel like I have to be something I'm not to get myself in the mindset to read some pieces NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR YAPPING. IM ALWAYS WANTING TO TALK IM ALWAYS AROUND 💚💚💚💚THANK YOU FOR THE MESSAGE IT MAKES MY HEART WARM AND MAKES ME SO SO HAPPY

[ask-the-bone-boys]

ATBB's Future

Hiiii y'all, its uh. been a minute huh

Now that it's been a bit over a year since I put this blog on hiatus, a loootta stuff has happened and changed and i've been doing a loootttta thinking!

Looking back on it, like really really looking, my biggest reason for the hiatus was that at some point the blog just kinda became more of a chore than something I wanted to work on for fun. Ask blogs are a lot of work, even when you're just using talking portraits rather than drawing out every individual answer, and with how much ask culture on tumblr has died out over the years there just wasn't really enough payoff to make it feel worthwhile to keep burning myself out.

I think it's a really good thing I stopped it when I did, because having to deal with all that in my senior year of high school would have been a nightmare. I've actually just finished up my first semester of college now, and there's no way in hell I would've been able to keep up at any rate! With all of this in mind, I've gained a newer perspective about how to approach things going forward.

I'm still really attached to this story. With how much time I've spent thinking about it and developing it in my head, I can't let it go, even if the blog isn't really working out anymore. I keep thinking of different ways I could fix the decisions I made early on, as well as the super cool directions I could take it in in the future, and I just. I GOTTA.

So, I've decided to reboot it entirely as a fic series!

This means that, unfortunately, there won't be nearly as much artwork to accompany it, but it's far more likely for the story to actually progress! Writing is way less draining for me and once I get going I can do it much quicker than art anyway, even though I do still sorta wish I had the spoons to just turn it into a full-blown webcomic instead haha

This DOES mean that updates won't be nearly as linear as they were here, seeing as right now I've mostly been working on backstory fics that took place before the blog's main story, but that can at least give you guys more context for how the characters interact with each other! I'll also state that while I do write faster than I draw, I still do it a hell of a lot less, so updates will still probably be pretty infrequent. But at least they'll happen at all, right?

As for the state of this blog itself, obviously I'm going to leave it up! I still love looking back on the old interactions you guys had with my characters and your reactions to certain plot points (your reactions to Fluff tagging along with the rest of the group were my favorite by far) and I think it would actually kill me to erase them. I'll be posting the fic updates here too, just like I did for Self Hatred!

And even if it's not going to be an ask blog anymore, because of how much I still miss that kind of interaction with you guys, I think I want to do a sort of "last hurrah" event, to finally send off the asking format with some good vibes.

You see, there's a character I made up around this time of year two years ago. He's a pretty cool guy, but he doesn't actually show up until a specific turning point later in the story. I've been excited for you guys to talk to him since the day I made him, but a little bummed lately that you may not ever get the chance. I still need to get a lot of stuff prepared, so I'm not quite ready to announce or start anything just yet, but there's a reason I waited until my winter break to start thinking about this seriously.

I think you guys would really like to meet him.

But anyway, that's about all I wanted to say for now! This is a very long post already so it's time I start wrapping it up. As always, thank you all so much for sticking with me, even though I really haven't been consistent through the years. I hope this change doesn't come as too much of a disappointment, and that you'll keep sticking around for the reboot!

[chris-hartley]

Happy Pride Month! This month I'll be partaking in the Pride Month Bingo challenge hosted by @queenofbaws, @unicornaffair, and @jadedsunshine.

(Feel free to blacklist #kenziewritespride or #pridemonthchallege2024 if you want to avoid these posts going forward!)

Today I've decided to start off with the prompt that came to me first: There Was Only One Bed! This fic is written about my Total Drama OC, Dannie, and her ex-girlfriend Lola (@horatios-mom's character)! Feel free to check out the @teadocs blog for more info on those two, but other that without further ado, my first fic for this month!

The competition was down to just a few pairs. Charlie and Chad (the married couple), Skylar and Ethan (the siblings), and Dannie and Lola (the exes). And over the span of the last round, Dannie and Lola had been all but at each other’s throats. And by the time they got back to the hotel where they’d been put up for the night, Dannie was exhausted.

All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and go to sleep and not speak to Lola until the next morning. After all, she’d been on the receiving end of a passive aggressive comment here and there and wasn’t 100% sure what she’d done to deserve most of them.

Lola unlocked their hotel room, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

“Knock yourself out,” Dannie muttered, carrying her bag into the room, but quickly her face dropped when instead of two beds, there was only one. 

The sound of the shower running came from the bathroom, and it wasn’t like Dannie was eager to invite Lola along to sort out this rooming situation. So she took a deep breath and went downstairs to the lobby, going to talk to the woman at the front desk.

“Hi, uh, there seems to be a misunderstanding. Me and my friend were supposed to have a room with two beds, but there’s only one. Can we get a different room?”

The woman clicked her tongue, “Sorry, no can do hun. It’s a busy season here. You see, the eclipse is in full totality so we’ve got loads of out of towners. Afraid there’s no more rooms to choose from.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dannie muttered.

“What’s the name on the booking?” The woman asked.

“Chris Mclean? I think.”

The woman typed it in and nodded, “I see. Three rooms, one bed each.”

“Chris did this? I swear next time I-” she clenched her jaw, “Thank you. I guess.”

“No problem, hun. Have a good night.”

Dannie went back up to their room, only then realizing she had forgotten her room key. She could picture it now, Lola chewing her out for yet another thing. She was definitely going to be banished to sleeping on the floor and that probably meant that she would be even more groggy for tomorrow’s filming. Fuck her.

She knocked on the door. Twice. And then it opened up to Lola standing there in a towel.

“What are you doing? I thought you were in here already?”

“Trying to figure out our room,” she admitted, “There’s only one bed.”

Lola’s face dropped, “Oh.”

“Yeah. But cause of the stupid eclipse, they can’t give us a different room cause there isn’t one.”

“And here I thought that just happened in Mads’ fanfics,” Lola chuckled lightly under her breath.

“Can I come back in?”

Lola nodded, moving out of the way of the door and ducking back into the bathroom as Dannie walked in. She walked to her bag, unzipping and pulling out her go-to pajama shirt. It was an old Five Nights At Freddy’s t-shirt with William Afton on it. The once black fabric was a faded charcoal gray, the vibrant purple on the TV screens behind him somehow in good condition. She slipped off her shirt and unhooked her bra, letting it drop from her arms before pulling the FNAF shirt on.

“That’s a blast from the past,” Lola said, emerging from the shower to spot Dannie pulling it on.

“Huh?”

“Do you remember? You used to wear that shirt all the time when we were dating,” she explained.

“Oh,” Dannie glanced down at it, “Yeah I did.”

“It’s seen better days,” Lola said, setting her bag down on the floor and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

That’s it, she was definitely on the floor.

Dannie took one of the pillows and blankets from the bed and laid it on the floor, and was just about to sit down when Lola piped in, “What are you doing?”

“Th- What do you mean? I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Why?”

“Because… There's only one bed. I figured you would want it.”

Lola blinked at her for a second, “Oh. I guess I didn’t… realize.”

“Realize what?”

“That we wouldn’t just share it,” Lola shrugged.

Dannie scoffed, shrugging, “I figured you wouldn’t want to.”

Lola was silent for a second, as if she was trying to figure out what Dannie meant by that. Then she sighed, “Oh. Yeah. Um. I’ve been PMSing a lot lately and I guess I didn’t think about the fact I was taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But if you want to take the floor that’s fine. I just figured it wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed. We’re both adults. We’re friends. We can survive one night in a comfortable bed.”

Dannie thought about it for a second. Lola did have a point. They were friends. Had been for years. Just cause the show had labeled them “the exes” didn’t mean they had to be enemies. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt the bed calling to her.

“Okay,” she picked up her pillow and blanket, setting it back on the bed, “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Lola nodded, getting under the blankets and settling down.

Dannie did the same, taking a deep breath as she sunk into the bed, “Goodnight Lola.”

“Goodnight Dannie.”

---

[moinsbienquekaworu]

2024 edition of Analysing Ram's fanfic collection! 2022 and 2023 editions are there. A few days late but we're still going strong!

Same disclaimer as before, all the ships I've been into are in there under the readmore and some of them are weird, if you thinks some stuff is freaky (derogatory) you probably don't want to look (especially this year!!). Which is fine, see you another time :)

For those who don't mind freaky stuff, come have fun with me once again as I marry my passion for fandom and simple statistics.

(hopefully this is readable? I had to dezoom a little because I have So Much Fic)

... So this is kind of insane for me.

I got into Daredevil a little after last year's edition, and after a full year and about three intense phases of Being Really Into Daredevil (the TV show, I should say right now. I've been meaning to get into the comics but we're not there yet), you can see that I uh. I liked it! Almost 600 fics, jesus. That's more than any of my other fandoms, and by so far it's not even funny. Clearly it shows when I download every fic I read. To be clear most of that folder is Mattfoggy, self-explanatory and uncontroversial I think.

I also got into Baldur's Gate 3, which is probably my folder with the most gen stuff in it, maybe even including my gen folders. That's because 1) I played the game and romanced someone (I'll give you a guess. I'll give you one fucking guess.) so it felt a little strange reading ship fic for a game when you've played an active role in the story? and 2) because for once there isn't just one ship I'm into. All of these fuckers have so much potential chemistry with everyone else it's kind of wild. You could take any of the main six/eight companions, put them together, and I'd see it! So, genfic, and a fair bit of Bloodpact because I'm extra-compelled by Astarion and Wyll having Issues together and kissing about it. Once again, normal. Note that I did also buy merch for this, because there was cool merch I could actually get! So I have nice stickers and a portkey on top of 200 fics.

Then we enter the Zone Of Shame, the elephant in the room: why does Ram, who spent years of her life deliberately ignoring anything MCU related in any way, shape or form, who actively tried not to know who any of these people were when people told her about it, and who fell asleep before a few of the movies during family movie night, have three folders and about 350 MCU fics on her phone? Why indeed. Well, my best explanation is Daredevil snuck up on me and then I got overtaken by a fever. And now here I am. A changed woman. Scouring blogs from 2012 to get glimpses of what it was like back then.

The two main ships I've been really into are Stucky, because I watched Winter Soldier and I have eyes, though I did kind of hesitate with Stony because yeah I see it, and Thorki, because I watched Thor and I have eyes because I heard it was a thing, got curious, looked into it, and started Seeing It very fast. For about a week I'd watched Thor 1 and I thought, eh, I don't know why everyone was so into this, and then somehow something clicked in my brain I guess?? And then here I am, about three months later, coming out of AO3 searches bloodied and dizzy.

The rest of the changes are minor, I added a class folder for class stuff, a few fics here and there, kept going with Venom and doubled that folder, kept reading porn, planned to read (/actually read!) a few published books, etc. The last notable things are I found like 30 things to add to my misc folder, don't know where, and I somehow got rid of 4 Warrior Cats books? I'm guessing I had duplicates?

In conclusion, this year in fanfic, I read a lot of Mattfoggy, and got really into a beloved fandom classic (Stucky), the most obvious characters I could have gotten into (Astarion and Loki), and a truly "problematic ship" (Thorki). They grow up so fast... Absolutely crazy to me that when I log all the fics I read in a year (and I could have read more!) I end up almost doubling my fanfic folder. I was at 1.7k last year and I added like 1.4k, that was a huge shocker! So many good fics....

(BTW I knew the whoole time I would be insanely into Loki and Tony Stark, and I was Correct. Whatever that kind of character is they're like fucking catnip to me. Immediate blorbo. I need to read more Tony centric stuff but I've been trying not to be so so in love with that guy since I was like 13 so. Hard to break the habit. Astarion is also Like That and as soon as I saw his face I knew and I was once again Correct. I'm predictable.)

This was the 2024 edition of What's Ram Been Reading, it was a delight to have you this year again and it'll be a delight to have you in 2025! Bye bye :)

[adminleonsrestingplace]

When will requests re-open? That’s just my question for now. Sorry if it’s bothersome but I just had an idea but saw you said you’re on hiatus.

It'll probably be very unlikely they do open back up tbh :') That's why I have the indefinite part in my title as well (Actually with all the changes being made rn do people still see that???)

Editing sprites and making wallpapers and such were fun while I was in college, but once I got to working full time jobs, I don't really have time to do so anymore,, At least not time that I'd feel like putting other hobbies I'm really into down for something I'm no longer as into-

I hate to put a full "I'm done with this venture" label on this blog,, I still do artsy things (Working on a future tattoo design rn actually!) from time to time, so I'd like to say I may post self indulgent things in the future (Hence the semi part in my title) But,,,,, We'll see

I also am just *not into D/R* anymore, and since I built this blog on it, I know a lot of people who are following this blog currently don't really care to see non D/R content- Although my Sonic stuff did really well ! But while I'm not a "notes matter" person, it's evident that the thing I'm most into right now (Being Genshin) isn't what people want to see from me-

I'm thinking of revamping my Genshin sideblog though- Just to yell about things, my favorite characters, post headcanons, and I have been wanting to get back into fic writing ! So if that interests you, you can head over to @frozen-calla-lilies although I haven't updated it in,,,, Looks at that blogs pinned post,,, 3 years- I swear I'll update it again someday soon- Just not rn- Probably not this week either-

If you're not interested in that then uh,,,,, You're still free to sit here and hope and pray that I post more non Genshin or non D/R content ! You're only getting D/R content when I reblog something Kaito related-

I'm sorry for the long post, and I'm sorry that this is probably not the answer you wanted to hear, but I figured that this would be better said in an actual post and not just the tags of a post like I normally do- Just so hopefully everyone's on the same page now

As stated previously, running this blog was a lot of fun, and I'm really appreciative of the nearly 1000 followers(We got so close!) that made this blog even more fun for the years I was going ! I hope to see you guys on another journey, but even if I don't, this was a good one for me and I hope it was for you too <3

[themluckyfew-moved]

Blue Exorcist things yayyy!

In the process of writing something really self indulgent right now vghjh I won’t be sharing the full fic here (mainly because it gets a little spicy... might share it on my other blog couGHcOUgH) But I will be sharing just a little snippet I have written out that makes me happy and I got flustered writing it last night 

So here it is, full thing will be under a read more as per usual ^^ 

Mephisto’s office window shattered as the earth king slammed his body through it, the older demon letting out a scream of terror upon impact. Once Amaimon was inside, he wasted no time shoving one of his nails into his mouth and chewing as he paced back and forth in front of Mephisto’s desk. When Mephisto realized who it was he growled and jumped to his feet.

“Amaimon! How many times do I have to tell you, I have an open window… specifically for you!” He glared at his younger brother, but Amaimon didn’t seem to notice. Mephisto huffed, crossing his arms and walking around to intercept Amaimon’s pacing. Amaimon bumped into Mephisto’s chest and stopped, but he still didn’t look at him. 

“Brother… I’m confused…” he muttered. 

“That much is obvious.” Mephisto growled. “What is so upsetting that you shattered my fucking window?” 

“It’s… It’s that human.” 

Mephisto raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “Human? Do you mean Mr. Igarashi?” 

Amaimon growled hearing his name and jumped onto Mephisto’s desk, his eyes shining with a gold tint for just a small moment. He bit his nails harder and Mephisto had to rest a hand on his shoulder to tell him to stop. 

“What has Mr. Igarashi done?”

“Exist!” Amaimon grabbed his hair in frustration, the aching in his chest becoming unbearable. “Brother, I don’t know what it is about this human! Every time I’m near him I’m just… overcome with emotion…” He stopped to take a breath and Mephisto waited patiently. 

“I feel so calm around him… all my violent urges just melt away. I don’t know what he’s done to me, brother! I’ve done what you asked and I’ve tried to distance myself from him… to focus on Okumura, but it’s so hard. He smells so sweet, and every time he touches me or I brush against him… I feel such a burn in my heart it hurts…It hurts to be near him but I can’t stay away!” 

Mephisto chuckled, stroking his goatee and watching his brother in amusement. “Amaimon...” 

Amaimon wasn’t listening. “I get so jealous whenever he’s around that friend of his, or Okumura or the other students… I want his attention to be on me and I don’t understand why!” 

“Amaimon.” Mephisto was starting to sound stern, but still Amaimon went on, pulling his nails from his mouth and staring down at his hands. His usually emotionless and empty blue eyes were soft and full of admiration as he thought about Chikaru.

“The way he smiles at me, brother… he doesn’t smile like that to anyone else. Not even Kaori. It’s my smile… I just want to protect it… to protect him.” 

“Amaimon!” 

The king of earth turned his head to look at his brother. Mephisto was grinning, his eyes shining with a smugness that only Mephisto could pull off. “Amaimon…” he started, “Could it be that you’re feeling love?” 

“What.” he narrowed his eyes and Mephisto laughed. 

“Love, dearest brother… That’s what you just described.” 

“Get it out.” Amaimon hissed, leaping at his brother and grabbing the collar of his coat. “Take it out right now!” 

Mephisto only laughed louder and started a stroll around his office, dragging Amaimon with him. “I wish I could, Amaimon! But I myself haven’t found the cure for love either.” 

Amaimon looked at Mephisto with anguish in his eyes. Mephisto pushed Amaimon off of him and he slumped onto the floor looking pathetic. Mephisto sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before looking down at his brother. 

“You do realize what you’ve done, yes?” his smile faded, looking completely serious. “You’re in the same shoes as father now.” 

Those words sent a shiver down Amaimon’s back. He had known for awhile that what he was feeling wasn’t normal, especially for him. Part of him just didn’t want to give into those feelings, even if the other part wanted... and still does want to. 

“Are you really sure you want to be with this human?” Mephisto’s eyes were low and dark. “It will put both of you in danger.” 

“I… Brother, I don’t think you understand!” Amaimon scrambled to his feet. “The way he makes me feel… It hurts so much! I don’t want to feel this way, but at the same time I need it more… It's such a conflicting feeling! I don’t know what I want anymore…” 

“It sounds like you want him.” That smug grin returned to Mephisto’s face and he shrugged as he glanced down to his poor brother “It is fine if you wish to be with this human…” that phrase made Amaimon light up and before he could sprint off Mephisto grabbed him, “But don’t forget, Amaimon… the reason you’re here.” his green gaze bore into brother, but it seemed as though Amaimon wasn’t listening anymore. He just brushed Mephisto off and disappeared out the shattered window, presumably back to Chikaru and leaving Mephisto smiling to himself in his office. 

“What an interesting turn of events…” 

[wifeboys]

Third Time’s the Charm // Wilmon

Summary: Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.

Word Count: ~2600

A/N: A little in-universe fic to tie us over. Based on prompts from this prompt list *shamelessly plugs my prompts blog @deity-prompts *. Also I haven’t written fanfiction is a while so I’m a little rusty.

gif credits: @princewilhelm

Wilhelm kisses Simon three times before he gets the hint.

The first time is at Rosh's soccer final. The pair (and Ayub) had gone to every single game of the season, rain, or shine. They stood at the side lines. The night air gripped them through their puffy coats. Flood lights illuminate their breaths. Wilhelm and Simon pressed shoulders to 'help keep them warm'.

The game is intense. The ball is sent over and back again and again. Fouls are left and right. Fights even break out. The crowd hold their breath, each moment electric. Simon is so focused on the game that he forgets where he is. He forgets who he's with and who he is. All he can concentrate on is Rosh.

The whistle blows, once, twice, three times. Rosh punches the air with a victorious scream. The crowd erupts. Everyone rushes onto the pitch. They clutch each other into hugs, exchanging "congratulations!" and kisses on the cheek. Simon sprints to Rosh, grabbing her tightly. She slaps his back and yells something he can't hear. Ayub pushes him out of the way and hugs Rosh. Simon staggers back with a laugh. Wilhelm is in front of him. His eyes sparkle with happiness and Simon can't help but smile. Before he can hug him, Wilhelm places his hands on Simons cheeks and quickly kisses him. The kiss barely lasts two seconds, but time seems to freeze. Simon short-circuits.

Before he can process or kiss him back, Wilhelm is already hugging someone else and Ayub is grabbing Simon. "SHE DID IT! FUCKING YEAH!" The night moves on. Everyone goes out to celebrate, still full of energy until they part in the early hours. As Simon celebrates, he can't help but think about Wilhelm kissing him. Did he kiss him or did he imagine it? No, it definitely happened. He can't imagine the electricity pulsing through him. He can't imagine the rush and heat he felt.

But that doesn't mean Wilhelm wanted to kiss him. It was an intense game. Everyone was celebrating. It was probably just a "hey bro, we did it! let's celebrate!" kiss. Wilhelm would've kissed anyone, Simon just happened to be there.

That's what Wilhelm is acting like. He's hugging everyone he comes across. Simons not sure if that's because Wilhelm is a hugger or because he's buzzed on celebratory drinks. Either way, he's not treating Simon any different. He's still talking to him like they're regular bros who like regular sports and other regular things.

It was nothing, Simon decides.

• ❤︎ •

The second time is at Felice's birthday party. She spares no expense. The common room is decked with streamers, balloons, and stocked with alcohol. Everyone is wearing the most extravagant outfits they have. The birthday girl has braided her hair short as a boys, and wears a purple robe that reaches her heels. Simon wears a black, glittery blazer over his bare chest with waist high black trousers. The lack of shirt was probably a good idea, considering people keep bumping into him and spilling their drinks.

The music is practically deafening. You can't walk two steps without knocking shoulders with someone. Simon keeps to the back of the room, fiddling with the hem of his blazar as the party unfolds in front of him. Sara keeps him company, chatting his ear off about something he can't hear. The only thing he can focus on is a certain prince across the room.

Simon barely notices when Sara tugs at his sleeve. "Si! I'm going to find Felice. Don't just stand here for the whole night. Go talk to someone"

She disappears into the sea of drunk teenagers. There's no way Sara was telling him to go talk to Wilhelm specifically, but that's all Simon wants to do. Actually, he wants to skip the talking and pin Wilhelm against the wall.

But Simon can't do it. He's glued with his back against a wall as people make out around him. He can't mess things up with Wilhelm. He can't scare him off. He can't lose a great friend on the tiny chance he might get a boyfriend. Simon repeats this like a mantra to the beat of the music.

None of this stops him checking out Wilhelm, the crowd acting as a safety buffer. His simple yellow shirt is plain considering the occasion. He made up for it by covering his hair with glitter that has fallen onto his face and shoulders.

He watches as an already tipsy Wilhelm finishes his drink. He's surrounded by people (probably his friends). He suddenly cracks up at some joke they say. Glitter explodes into the air with the quick movement of his head. A shiny halo illuminates his face. God, he's beautiful when he laughs.

"Simon! Simon Simon Simon" Felice nearly falls on top of him. "I'm so glad you're here- and you look amazing"

"Thanks, so do you- and happy birthday" Simon has never been good at taking compliments.

"You're too kind. I'll admit, I can't get enough of my cape. Hey, you should try it on! Purple is definitely your colour"

"Oh no I couldn't-"

"Oh yes you could. Let's swap jackets. I promise I'll give it back"

Next thing Simon knows, Felice is slipping off her cloak-y thing to reveal a white blouse and black skirt. She takes Simon's jacket, even giving him a spin. "We look stunning" she says as Simon wraps her robe around him. It looks a bit weird on him, but it's soft and smells nice. Felice sips her drink, and frowns. "My cup is empty. Can I get you a drink?"

"Uh- sure"

Felice disappears into the crowd. Simon goes back to looking for Wilhelm, but he's nowhere to be seen. He scans the crowd carefully. Wow, there's a lot of people here. A lot of bodies. The air is thick. The music is too loud. The room is too small. Simon needs to get out.

He excuses his way towards the door, not stopping until he's breathing in the night air. He leans next to the door, careful to keep Felice's robe clean. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Simon can only handle parties for a short while before he needs a break.

He stares up at the sky. Deep breath in, deep breath out. The stars are like glitter. The moon shines brightly at him. Deep breath in. He can't find Wilhelm, but at least he can spot the Man In The Moon. Deep breath out.

He's grounded again. He knows he should go home soon, but he figures a bit longer inside wont hurt. He gets up to go inside and find Felice when the door swings open. A yellow shirt stumbles into the night, glitter sparkling in the moonlight.

Simon finally found Wilhelm- or, rather, Wilhelm found him.

Wilhelm finds his footing, looking around. He finally spots Simon by the door.

"There you are!" He exclaims. There I am?

If Simon moves fast enough, he can slip back inside before Wilhelm even notices him. He can grab Sara and pretend he never came to the party. Before he can put his plan into effect, Wilhelm is cupping his face again.

Wilhelm kisses him. Simon is quicker to react this time. He kisses back, his plan to escape already forgotten. Wilhelm pulls back for a moment to tilt his head to the side. Simon holds the back of his neck, running his fingers through his hair. Glitter falls around them.

Wilhelm's hands slip behind Simon's robe, pulling him closer. Simon shivers as his hands run up and down his back. He drowns in bliss, finally getting to kiss Wilhelm the way he always wanted to.

When Wilhelm finally pulls back, his eyes stay closed. "Oh" he sighs softly. "Oh . . . I'm about to throw up. Excuse me"

Without even looking at Simon, Wilhelm turns and staggers around the corner. Simon hears retching. His escape plan kicks in. He practically runs back into the party, nearly knocking people over as he finds Felice.

He finds her giggling with Sara, who's cheeks are blushes deep red. They swap their clothes back, re-completing Felice's outfit. She truly looks stunning, tonight more than ever. Up close, her hair is woven more intricately than he realised. It's as short as his but looks ten times better.

Oh God- with the short hair and purple cloak, he probably looks just like Felice. Especially to someone who's drunk. Wilhelm didn't mean to kiss him. He meant to kiss Felice. Now Simon feels like he's going to throw up.

• ❤︎ •

The third time is after Parents Day. Simon spent the days leading up to it avoiding Wilhelm. He probably doesn't remember the kiss at all but Simon wont chance it. He won't give Wilhelm the opportunity to reject him. This doesn’t stop him from looking at him for a little too long from across the room. This doesn’t stop Wilhelm looking back.

His ingenious “if I ignore him he can’t reject me” plan fails, however, when Wilhelm sits with his family as they eat. Simon can't take his eyes off him as he chats with Simon and Felice's family. Wilhelm combs his fingers through his hair, licks his lips, laughs along to jokes. Simon soaks up every minute of it.

Dinner plates empty. Belts are loosened. Waiters come around to collect dishes and Simon starts to panic. Wilhelm has been glancing at him again and again throughout the dinner. He's definitely going to corner Simon and let him down. Tell him to forget all about the kiss (if he even remembers it). Simon pulls out his phone.

Simon I need you to pick me up

Ayub Thought you were at the parents dinner Cant ur mom take u home?

Simon I'll explain later If you pick me up right now I'll be forever grateful

Ayub I'll be outside in ten You owe me one

Simon I love you more than life itself

Simon rests his phone on the table, slightly less panicked. As soon as people start getting to their feet, he bolts. Out the door. Our of the school. He only slows when his feet crunches on the front road's gravel.

Ayub arrives right on time. Simon jumps on his bike before he can ask what's going on. It isn't until the next day that Simon comes to a shocking realisation: he left his phone at Hillerska.

• ❤︎ •

"Didn't think I'd be back here so soon" Ayub says as he drops Simon off.

"I'll be in and out, I promise. Everyone's gone home so I'll be able to find it and grab it"

"Here, call yourself on my phone. You can follow the ringing"

"Where would I be without you"

Ayub tosses his phone and gestures for Simon to go. He pushes open the doors. Hillerska feels haunted without students bustling through the halls. It's like a museum. Simon opens Ayub's phone and calls himself.

It's probably in the dining room where they ate. He walks towards it, listening intently for his ringtone. What he doesn't expect is for someone to pick up.

“Hello?”

Simon stares at the phone for a moment before pressing it to his ear. ". . . Hello?"

“Simon? That you?”

“Wille!" Perfect. The one person he was trying to not talk to. "Sorry, I didn’t recognise your voice”

"Don't worry about it, I don't think you were expecting me to answer"

"Yeah, uh, you have my phone. That's why I was calling it. I must've left it here yesterday"

"Where are you? I can drop it off"

"I'm already at Hillerska so I can just grab it. Want me to come to you?"

"Just start walking, we'll find each other"

Simon decides to go in the general direction of Wilhelm's dorms. It really does feel like a museum. Each alcove is like a display he can't touch. His footsteps echo.

“So . . . what’re you doing with my phone?” Simon asks.

“I actually didn’t know it was yours. It was left on one of the tables, so I took it in case the owner came looking for it”

“And here I am”

“And here you are”

Simon can't help but smile. He's sure he can hear Wilhelm smiling too.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you”

“Talk to me?”

“Yeah. Um . . . it's about Felice's party"

Simon stops. Here it is. Everything has backfired and now the one thing he didn't want to talk about has come up.

"Simon? You there?"

"Yes! Uh yes I am." He rubs a hand across his face. Play it cool. "What about her party?"

"I'm sorry that I was so drunk that night. I figured I'd need some . . . liquid courage but I guess I had too much"

"Yeah. It was a uh, a wild night" Simon feels like he's choking on his own heart. He distracts himself by looking around at the hallway. He's not even sure where in the school he is. He's more focused on not throwing up.

"Do you remember that night?"

Play it cool. "Anything specific you want me to remember?"

There's a moment of silence. Simon can hear Wilhelm's footsteps through the phone. "If you want to forget that night and move on like nothing happened, we can definitely can"

Simon doesn't want to forget. It's all he can think about.

"Do you want to forget about it?" Simon asks, swallowing.

Wilhelm's walking slows as he thinks. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable"

"I don't . . . I wasn't uncomfortable"

There's a beat. "I'm glad. That-that you weren't uncomfortable"

"I'm a little uncomfortable now" Simon laughs awkwardly. His tension eases a little when Wilhelm laughs too.

"I'm sorry. I just don't know how to talk about this" Simon kicks his feet against the floor.

"I have to say, I didn't think I'd be talking to you about this over the phone"

"I didn't think you'd want to talk about this at all. I thought you were going to avoid me forever"

"Hey, you're the one who was avoiding me"

"Yeah yeah I know" Simon smiles.

Wilhelm takes a deep breath and exhales. "I really wanted to kiss you that night. That's why I got so drunk I needed a confidence boost. It uh, it didn't help that you ignored the kiss at Rosh's game"

Simon's jaw drops in a smile. "I didn't ignore it! I just panicked. I figured it was a spur of the moment celebration"

"None of it was spur of the moment. I've wanted to kiss you for a while"

"You have?"

"You didn't notice?"

"Not at all. If I did, I probably would've kissed you"

Simon hears him stop and smile. “Simon, you are the smartest idiot I ever met”

He hangs up. He hangs up? Simon looks at the phone as if it holds the answer. His brow furrow as a hand grabs his shoulder from behind. He turns, that there he is.

"Hi" they say in unison.

Wilhelm's hands are on Simon's shoulders. He holds his gaze with a smile. Simon completely forgets how to breathe. All he can think about his Wilhelm being so close to him and his lips being right there because really they're right there-

"Can I kiss you again?" Wilhelm asks. Simon nods.

Wilhelm kisses him for the third time. It's hesitant- like he's testing the waters to see if Simon is willing to swim. Before he can pull away, Simon yanks him back in. His hands thread through Wilhelm's hair as Wilhelm wraps his arms around his waist. They pull each other impossibly close. It's their third-first-kiss and it is perfect.

[novantinuum]

The blorbo meme for your own OCs? (ones for specific fandom worlds or otherwise)

Ojhfhsdbhjg I will gladly!

(Note: There are a mixture of Steven Universe and Breath of the Wild OCs in here. I'll add photos after OC mentions so y'all have an idea of who I'm talking about. Most of these will be WIPs/sketches. Tbh some I've probably barely talked about on this blog, but let's go XD)

“Blorbo” Character Ask Meme

____ My blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most):

At the moment? Aryll Haywood, my version of Link's sister. Of all my OCs, she invades my thoughts the most, and is- quite honestly- probably the most fleshed out of all of the characters I've ever created. I think it helps that the very essence of her setting gave her an obvious life conflict to bounce off of... aka the loss of her entire town and family to the Calamity. There's a lot of juice to play with there, in imagining how an 11 year old girl would try (and fail) to cope with that. I can't wait to eventually share her full story- just a few days ago, I started officially writing the prologue for that long fic of mine!

My scrunkly (my ���baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped):

ASDshgjhdg is it a crime to ALSO say Aryll for this one? I would very much love to pick her up in my arms and swing her around like a parent with a tineee precious baby ;w;;;;;;;

Not really sure I have any other OCs who would count as "baby," a lot of the others are downright snarky motherfuckers, lmao.

My scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave):

I've grown quite attached to Arwel Haywood (Link and Aryll's father) while writing a bit of fic from his POV, (A FIC I STILL NEED TO FINISH, auUGHHHH! ! !!!!), and feel I don't think about him as much as I should. I need to flesh out his personality a bit more. So far, though... I am big uWU at the thought of him just,,, really, really loving his kids. I think he does have the tendency to push Link too hard too young with their training, and perhaps spends time with his son just a tad more than his daughter due to their shared interest in swordplay, but oh god does he do his genuine best with them, and I am HUGE a aAAA

(Not my art, but a preliminary Hero Forge model I did of him)

My glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week):

Taafeite, a fusion of my OC Jean Maverick and Steven Universe. They don't show up in their world very often- thus "obscure fave-" but when they do, it's sure to be quite a show. They're a big personality and very much enjoy being in the spotlight. Please don't underestimate their weapon. It may look like a glorified pizza cutter staff, but that bitch is fucking sharp.

My poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave):

Hmm. I don't think any of my SU or BotW OCs fit this category. The only OC I have that even remotely fits is... a VERY old pull... Aster, a Gravity Falls multiverse OC I had at one point but never did anything concrete with. Aster... was the one who was a mercenary working for Bill, charged with hunting Ford down during those 30 years he was lost in the multiverse. They... definitely kill, and definitely do MANY morally wrong things, but there's a depressing backstory to be told, and they eventually do experience Character Development™ and become a less Problematic person, ahahah.

(this art is old as Balls, i'm so sorry)

My horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason):

Jean Maverick. I, uh... outright amputate one of their legs in end-game content that I will probably never write out in full, so saying this is not a spoiler. I put them through so much bullshit, lmao. Trauma... self-loathing... I yeet them into the Gem war at one point... more trauma... meeting their mother WHILE experiencing trauma... homoerotic encounters with foes... oh yeah, they've got it all, shshgdhkkl

My eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell):

jhhjsbdgj absolutely Morganite. Aka Jean's nemesis. Aka a gay ass motherfucker who was so lovesick for the concept of a romance that had long died in the war that she tried touching the sun and got burned. I kinda gave her a really depressing backstory, but she commits war crimes and is GemRacist™ though, which is why she's going to superhell. Byeee!

[keyboard-smashed]

The Storm That's Brewing

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality (probs more I haven't planned yet lol)

Warnings: None? Tell me if there are some I didn't think of

Note: This is a fic I've already posted to ao3 (keyboardsmashed33) but I've decided to post it here because ?? I have a new side-blog about the story (my-keyboard-did-it-not-me)

Superpower! Roommate! au regards

Chapter summary: Virgil and Patton Summers move into a new apartment with Logan Barry and Roman King.

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Chapter 1- Settling In

"Have you got everything?" Virgil's aunt asked, unpacking the last box from the car.

"Yep, think so!" Patton said cheerfully. Virgil wasn’t so sure.

Patton picked up the first few boxes, Virgil following his example, and started moving towards the apartment building before Virgil exclaimed, "Wait!"

He quickly scanned the boxes again, "What was it Lerman asked us to bring?"

"Logan," Patton corrected, "Asked us to bring the-" He quickly checked his text messages from his new roommate, "-kitchen supplies."

Virgil quietly cursed.

"We forgot the only thing our new roommate asked us to bring. He leased the apartment we're going to be staying in and we forgot the only things he asked us to bring. God, we have to live with him for how long? He's gonna think we're lazy or-"

“Virgil! Sweetie," His aunt interrupted, "Look what you're carrying."

Virgil did as his aunt suggested and found, surely enough, he was carrying a big container labelled "cookery stuff" in his own rushed handwriting.

"Oh."

His aunt chuckled, "Alright now that that's sorted, you boys had best start taking these boxes up and meet your new roommates. I'll wait here and join you with the last few boxes in a minute."

Virgil and Patton agreed and each carried a few boxes to the elevator in their apartment building. Despite their apartment being on the fifth floor, and Virgil having no athletic ability, Virgil decided it was safest if he took the stairs. Who knew what could go wrong in an elevator. He left his boxes with Patton, who was practically buzzing with excitement to meet his new roommate whom he had been texting for the past two weeks, and went back to the car to fetch a few more boxes, where he found his aunt chatting with an unquizzically attractive guy.

The guy towered above Virgil’s aunt, which in all fairness, wasn’t difficult since she stood at a mere 5ft. But the guy was still tall- Virgil estimated he was roughly 6ft tall, making him a whole 6 inches taller than himself. He was well built too, darn him, with the body of a jock.

He simply wore a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and skinny black jeans (that, unlike Virgil’s, had no tears in them), and finally a red scarf to tie the outfit together. Despite the scarf, Virgil thought the guy’s outfit was completely innapropriate for the chilly October weather that had Virgil shivering in his thick black hoodie. The air grew warm around Virgil as he approached.

When Virgil’s aunt saw him coming, she waved, causing the other man to turn around. Virgil’s jaw dropped. He looked like a sculpture- with prominent yet warm and soft features that had to be a result of make-up, because nobody could be that naturally beautiful in Virgil’s opinion.

His auburn hair was styled back neatly, except from one stray hair that stubbornly stuck up which Virgil found rather endearing. The man’s eyes were a beautiful and rich chocolate colour (and Virgil sure had a sweet-tooth).

Virgil found his mouth agape and quickly closed it. He was suddenly very grateful that he’d remembered to put on foundation that morning, otherwise his blush would be painfully obvious. Get a grip, he told himself.

Virgil’s aunt smiled knowingly. “Virgil! This lovely gentleman is Roman. He saw me with all these boxes and offered to help, it turns out he’s your other roommate!”

Virgil’s eyes widened in shock. This handsome stranger that Virgil totally was not crushing on, was his new roommate. Oh, he knew he was screwed right then.

Roman extended his hand to Virgil, “Roman King. Nice to meet you.” He smiled.

Virgil gulped and shook his hand, “I’m Virgil- uh- Virgil Summers. Nice to meet you too.” He stammered. Great, you’ve been here one minute and already made a fool of yourself, he scolded himself.

Roman let go of his hand, much to Virgil’s dismay. He noted, “You’re hot.” His smile fell as he tried to correct himself, “I mean warm. Your hand is really hot.”

Virgil was pleased to see that Roman’s face was as red as his hair. He laughed, “Thanks I guess, but you’re probably just freezing because you’re wearing only a shirt in the middle of fall.”

Roman brought his hands to his face in mock annoyance, “It’s fashionable. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Virgil raised his eyebrow. “Oh yeah, Prince?”

“King.” He corrected.

Virgil’s aunt, who’d been silently watching this back and forth, cleared her throat. The two gentlemen stopped arguing and faced her.

“Oh no, don’t let me stop you two.” She said. The two looked at each other briefly but remained silent. “Oh alright then, why don’t you two take some boxes up then? You can continue while you walk.”

The pair agreed and walked to the elevator together, exchanging awkward smiles, and small talk, when they ran right into Patton.

“Oh Virgil! Who’s this?” Patton asked, trying to get a good look at Roman whose face was hidden behind the three boxes he was carrying (like a show off, Virgil thought).

“Pat, this is Roman Queen. Roman, this is my brother Patton.” Virgil gestured at them with his head, since his hands were full.

“It’s Roman King, but I actually am a queen so you didn’t offend me.” Roman quipped.

“It’s great to meet you! Are you our new roommate or just a kind stranger?” Patton asked.

“I am indeed your roommate, I would shake your hand but...”

“Oh of course! I can take those up in the lift and you two can go get the rest of the boxes?” Patton offered. Virgil agreed.

The elevator was already waiting when they got there.

“Are you sure you can take all these by yourself?” Roman asked when the elevator was stocked with boxes, Patton standing in the centre.

“Well, I am a little boxed in, aren’t I?” Patton joked.

Roman laughed And Virgil groaned that he shouldn't encourage him.

“But anyway, I’ll be fine, Logan said he was happy to assist me. He’s unpacking in the apartment.” He continued.

“Kay, well there are only a few more boxes anyway so we can take them up ourselves.”

Patton nodded. “Tell Aunt Maria I’ll call her tonight.”

“’Course.”

Roman and Virgil made their way back to the car where they discovered that what they’d thought was only few boxes, turned out to be another seven, of which Roman took four. He sat on the curb while Virgil and his aunt said their goodbyes.

“Message me whenever and be careful- especially because of, you know...” Maria trailed off.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” Virgil promised, picking up the remaining two boxes. Roman stood from the curb.

“Roman, you’ve got my number in case this one doesn’t check in, you can free to message any time for a chat too.” Maria said. Virgil shot a strange look at Roman who simply smiled in response.

“Bye! Té amo!” She called out as they walked away.

“You too!” Virgil shouted back, a little quieter.

“¿Hablas Español?” Roman asked.

“Huh? Oh right, yeah no. Not really. Maria does. I just know a few phrases.” Virgil replied. He opened the door for Roman, who he doubted could even see with all the boxes he was carrying. A hypothesis that was proven correct when Roman walked straight into the elevator door. “Well done.” Virgil sneered.

Roman put down what he was carrying and glared at Virgil, pressing the button, and not breaking eye contact until the elevator arrived. When it arrived, Roman moved his boxes inside and took Virgil’s too, stepping into the elevator. He moved to make space for Virgil who looked nervously inside.

“I know it’s a bit cramped but I don’t bite, Dr Gloom. Well, not usually.” He laughed. Virgil remained motionless.

“You go on up, I don’t trust elevators.” Virgil shrugged. Roman nodded and picked up a box; “What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

Roman passed him a box. “You don’t like elevators so we’ll walk up the stairs, unless you can teleport?”

“I can walk up some stairs by myself.” Virgil said pointedly, handing the box back to Roman.

“I’m sure you can, even with those short legs,” He looked down at Virgil, who was only 5’6” (a perfectly reasonable height, Virgil thought, Roman was just unusually tall), “But you need not.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “God, you really are just a Disney prince in training, aren’t you? Fine, I’ll text Pat to get the boxes.” He said, texting while he spoke. “Or you could, you know, just text my aunt since you got her number for some reason.”

Patton replied almost immediately, ‘Sure thing!’.

Virgil clicked floor seven on the elevator and moved out before the doors closed him in.

Roman raised his arms in defence, “Hey, she gave my her number, not the other way round. She just wants to check on you.”

Virgil slid his phone into his pocket. He walked next to Roman, on the inside of the wall, so that Roman would have to walk further. “You could’ve only spoken to her for like two minutes before I came out!”

“Ah, coming out, how difficult. Anyway, I’m very charming.” First he called himself a queen, then a coming out joke? This guy was surely gay, Virgil reckoned (or hoped).

He waved the coming out joke away, “Right, Prince Charming, I forgot.”

Roman looked delighted, “Why thank you!” He beamed.

They walked in an (awkward? Virgil wasn’t sure) silence for a few seconds. Anxious to fill the silence, Virgil coughed, then asked “So, uh, what’s Logan like?”

Roman put his hands up in the universal ‘I don’t know’, “Dunno, haven’t met him yet. I got here just after you. My stuff’s coming in a few hours, I just wanted t get here early and meet the new roomies.” He explained.

“Weird, but sure.” Virgil panted, “Why are there so may stairs?”

“What, your short legs tired, Fall Short Boy?” Roman teased.

“Bad insult, good reference, challenge accepted.” Virgil sprinted up the stairs. He heard Roman exclaim something along the lines of ‘Unfair!’ and race after him.

Virgil was easily outmatched. Roman reached their apartment while Virgil was still in the fourth floor hall, moaning about his loss and unfair advantages Roman had despite the fact that nobody could hear him. He’d given up on running as soon as Roman passed him, walking the rest of the way and enjoying the brief silence which he felt was going to be a rare occurrence with both Patton and Roman around, and who knew what Logan was like?

When he finally made it to the apartment, he found the door ajar. So much for Roman’s princely manners then, shouldn’t he be escorting Virgil in? Not like Virgil minded, of course.

Inside the apartment were the sounds of gentle conversation and movement- then suddenly the sound of something smashing. Virgil rushed inside.

“What happened?” Virgil asked at the same time as Patton said, “It’s okay!”

A man, whom Virgil assumed was Logan, turned to face him. He wore jeans, a black button up t-shirt, a dark blue tie and glasses almost identical to Patton’s.

Logan smoothed his pristinely slicked back medium-brown hair into place and pushed his glasses further up on his nose,

“Hello, I am Logan Barry, your new roommate. The noise you just heard was a plate smashing which would be the result of Patton and Roman's inefficient unpacking method."

Virgil looked at Logan cautiously, he seemed nice enough- a little direct, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Virgil Summers.” He replied.

Roman glanced at Virgil, nodding slightly, but addressed Logan, "It would actually be very efficient if I was working with someone that could catch- no offence Patton."

Patton swept his hand through the air like he was literally brushing off the comment.

"Oh, no worries, it's true." He agreed.

"For safety reasons, I think it would be wise if somebody swept up the plate shards.” Logan reasoned.

"I'll do it!" Patton volunteered, searching through the cleaning boxes for a dustpan and brush. It didn't take long, since there was only one but he still didn't find it, "Oh dear, I think we've forgotten the dustpan and brush."

"Let me check." Roman said, rooting through the boxes. "Uh, what colour is it?" He asked.

"Ooh, it's a lovely dark blue." Patton replied.

Roman pulled out a blue dustpan and brush, "Aha! A new set of eyes always helps." He knelt and swept up the plate fragments, Logan occasionally pointed at a piece he missed and Virgil tried to suppress his snickering as Roman imitated Logan when he turned his back.

By 8pm, most of the apartment was ready, due to Logan's incessant nagging that it would be optimal if they completely unpacked that same day. Boxes were unpacked and stacked in a corner in the family room which was otherwise empty until Roman's things were to arrive.

The only messy parts of the apartment were the rooms, as everyone, other than Logan, had decided to leave theirs (mostly) alone until they could paint them- only putting duvets on the beds that had been left by the old owners, or supplied by the landlord, Virgil wasn't sure.

The rooms were quickly claimed: Logan, who had arrived first and already picked the room, chose the room with the best view for stargazing; Roman picking the largest room which he measured with a measuring tape he found in one of Logan's boxes; Virgil opting for room closest to the kitchen, which unfortunately shared a wall with Roman who had blasted Disney songs on his phone while unpacking and Patton subsequently moving into the second smallest room that, to his delight, was the easiest to access the main room (or family room as he liked to call it).

Virgil's room was one of the messiest due to Logan's insanely fast organisation skills and the fact that Roman didn't have anything to put in his room yet. Virgil's bed, which was a simple black wooden bed, took up a good portion of the room. It was a snug fit with a wardrobe and inbuilt desk, as well as Virgil's few packed up belongings, but Virgil didn't care.

Virgil sat on his bed, tired from the excessive amounts of exercise and socialization he'd done in the last few hours. He’d managed to avoid too much, ducking into his room as soon as he felt like he’d done enough not to feel guilty about not helping.

All Virgil really wanted to do after a long day was rest. However, fate is a cruel thing. And fate decided he wasn't allowed to rest. As soon as he thought his job unpacking was done, he heard a car horn and then a knock on his door.

Begrudgingly, he got out of bed. He manoeuvred the boxes in his room and opened the door to find Patton, looking as bubbly and energised as ever. Virgil had no idea how he did it.

"What?" Virgil yawned.

"Roman's stuff's here!" Patton said. He was rolling on the balls of his feet, ready to run and help Roman as soon as possible. Virgil however, was missing the warm spot on his bed.

"So?" He leaned against the doorframe, hoping Patton would just drop the subject and leave him be but if previous experience meant anything, he’d have no such luck.

"Oh, don't be a couch potato, come help us get the couch, please?” He asked hopefully, dragging out the please and launching into his signature irresistible puppy-dog eyes.

"I can't be a couch potato if there's no couch?" Virgil had meant it as a criticism to Patton’s- was it even a pun?- but his heart wasn’t in it.

"Exactly!" Patton exclaimed, "Plus Roman said he'd buy us all dinner if we helped."

“You had me at free dinner.” Virgil’s stomach rumbled in agreement.

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Taglist: ~nobody~ xoxo

(also does anyone wanna tell me how to link chapters or do anything at all?????????? pls)

Chapter 2: