#hey look i did a writing thing

[proxycrit]

Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

#salvaging the ship of theseus #submas au #submas #ONCE AGAIN. MAKING THIS EVERYBODYS PROBLEM #hey look i did a funny little callback #remember the celestial tower as a Fun Time? #im about to make it BITTERSWEET. #emmet #elesa #chandelure #ingo #critterbitter screams into the void #critdraws #anyways uHh pls just know stsot is made from my worldbuilding notes #i dont know the shape of its ending yet and things are bound to change (which is why its on this acc instead of critterbitter! #feel free to postulate in the comments tho! i have other drabbles but drawing and writing hard) #((mostly? ingo taking care of the sneaslets. getting harassed by lady sneasler. confusing the local wildlife.)) #submas angst #with hopeful end? #submas fanfiction #fanfic #Spotify

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

They're elves of the shadowfell, normal human height. They specialize in teleportation and invisibility, with the casters among them throwing in confusion and fear and illusion. Be careful though, as any trained in combat start making non-elves slower and worse while within 10 feet. From depression, from the sound of it. Their angst about being more ancient and timeless than you wordlessly attaches to you like a parasite, slowing you down. Good for if you enjoy concepts like-

Shadows, but like DARKER than shadow, that lash out when they're moody

looking beautiful unless in shadow, in which case they're corpselike

ignoring pointless things like "comfort" and "morals" and "rules"

being the chosen of the Raven Queen, and on her behalf collecting dark tragedy, sorrow, and feelings of loss.

being corpse pale with jet black hair, pure black eyes, and covered with tattoos/piercings/anything that would make a generic white suburban mom in the 50's scream in terror.

Lumping them all together because they're all the same outside one having mage hand and such. Idc what weapon they're holding.

#closest I'm getting to saying something nice about them. #i don't even care. #I can withhold bias on near anything but not these and sun elves #its fine. I make you suffer by pitting your favorites against each other. getting these into the next tournament is only fair. #you know that giant anti-shadarkai rant I went on a few months ago? #how I thought whoever did this to thier lore probably rewrites Warhammer stories to remove the satire and humor? #apparently he actually did write warhammer books holy shit I called it. #seriously though I love basically all monsters but these I looooooooooathe. #not even touching how annoyed I am that the shadar kai WERE ALREADY A THING #Like they weren't even elves #they just went “hey we'll bring them back as elves because 33 is a reasonable number of elf species” #yet not a green version of goblins there's already like 3 that'd be absurd. #like no make your OWN name for the special elves version 33 that hit on par with a demon lord while being cr 7 for some reason #shadar kai #looked into it #dnd #dnd5e #DnD 5e #d&d #smash or pass #5e #monsters of the multiverse #mpmm

[moeblob]

You know, sometimes you just play an otome and go "that's my son" and then he's the mom of the group. It just happens like that sometimes.

#charade maniacs #keito ebana #i just think hes neat! and im horrified for when i play his route and learn things glossed over in another route #but like also hey i love him sooooo much and i got really sad when i looked at a site for the rec walkthrough order #and then a brief overview of The Guys themselves and #the person writing it was like listen i love the artist of the game but why did they give him poop hair #and i just :c thats mean :c it could also just be chocolate ice cream :c why ya gotta be so mean #they literally gave a lower route rating BECAUSE they didnt like his hair #and i get it cause appearances do affect my opinions on the characters but not actually the route overall #so i uh so haha i uh jokingly put possible otome spam in my header info thing here #and i thought no way will i actually do that #then i remembered my mom son and was like oh damn gotta draw him... wait -

[vv-ispy]

something something samsara cycles I don't think it's a coincidence that the overthrow of Decarabian involved Jean and Diluc's ancestor + Venti's lookalike friend -> Mondstadt archon quest the key players taking down Dvalin were Jean and Diluc + Venti

Is. Traveler Amos?

Or put another way, traveler is the one with the floaty friend -> bard has the floaty friend. Venti is friends with Dvalin the terror of the tower/Amos is friends? Lovers? Something? With Decarabian the tyrant in the tower. Venti -> Amos, Traveler -> Nameless bard, Paimon -> Venti?

#i wake up. i start ramblings about whatever media i'm into at the moment #continuing on my reverse-engineering-old-mondstad-by-looking-at-current-game agenda #now i'm creating amos-was-secretly-helping-the-rebellion-early-on to paralell venti-helping-the-traveler-when-they-first-arrived headcanon #bard later running into amos: hey doesn't her voice sound familiar? #wispti who did not experience Amos Abilitites that bard did: ????????? #does amos have an eye colour? her eye colour is now the blue sky the bard always wanted to see #takes the mondstadt archon quest. stuffs it into old mondstadt #also something something venti playing multiple roles #also. incognito amos changing her looks to leave the tower and mingle with the people every once in a while #amos who wanted to save decarabian but things went wrong and he died and she died and the bard died #.........abyss corrupted decarabian? look we've got multiple corrupted gods in history already we can have another #thinking about that theory that furina/focalor did their fooling-the-heavily-principle plan over and over again until they got it right #maybe all the gods are living in time repeating over and over and over again until they get it right #maybe dvalin wasn't saved the first time around either #...........don't mind my crack theories with no canon basis this is now an exercise in creative writing #genshin talk

[chiropteracupola]

steadfast sailor, paper captain...

#em draws stuff #hornblower #william bush #horatio hornblower #first and foremost! sorry for melting bush's face off in this image #but for a bit more context this is because I had the idea that a hornblower story based in 'the steadfast tin soldier' would be interesting #so here we've got pewter-cast model bush and paper theatre guy hornblower (and things are not going well for them!) #this one was an interesting challenge since I wanted bush to look like the metal was sort of melting out from under his paint #and then hornblower's paper hasn't quite caught alight yet but is starting to char at the very edges of him and where he's touching bush #both of them are much more complex designs than I'd originally been planning for (bush has got ball-and-socket joints and all...) #(the original original plan was that I would learn pewter casting and make him Real. as you can see I did not do that.) #but hey I'm pleased with how they turned out in the end! this took me three sharpe episodes to draw :| #(eleven episodes in and I think it made me weird in the head so I think I will slow down for the time being! too much riflery!) #aaaaaanyway. I don't know if I'll ever write anything about this idea so I'm releasing it into the wild if anyone else likes it #part of this was. an excuse to put some sequins on hornblower yes. fellow should sparkle a little more often!

[random-autie-fangirl]

*slave to the whims of these tiny numbers."

*that are questioning their desire to fight you will give up."

***technically not from the handbook but I included a note from your friend, and it is an interesting line from the demo

Screenshots of said lines/moments under the cut

#undertale #chara dreemurr #hey look! I did a thing #Reading the demo handbook filled me with such Chara brainrot the first time #And I think it's quite underrated so I'm showing you guys #narrachara evidence #before you say it can't be an actual character saying this because the handbook deals with game mechanics #I want to point that other characters do that too #like alphys and papyrus and lancer. And in Deltarune Ralsei explicitly wrote the handbook himself so...yeah #the difference is that Chara doesn't write it down. this is just their thoughts on the moment #it seems #what a strange child...

[apostaterevolutionary]

An alien ship is detected in orbit. Some are elated, expecting a sharing of ideas, while others are terrified, expecting war on a scale previously unseen by humanity. Both are wrong.

First contact does not go the way anyone had ever expected.

So I posted this on my other pseud as tbh I'm just more active there lmao and I figure more people will see it than if I posted it on main. But it's a non-fandom original work so hey, might as well toss it here too

The idea haunted me until I got it out lmao, so here it is. A sci-fi horror story inspired by the likes of the twilight zone and scp about first contact going in a particular way. If that's your cup of tea, then I hope you check it out and enjoy!

#I'm not even sure what to say about this as it's non-fandom lmao but hey it's here #it is a thing I did #and I'm proud of it #so I hope you give it a go and enjoy #so I wrote a thing #original writing #sci fi horror #sci fi #horror #idk I hope I'm not spamming tags by posting this on main and side with the same tags sdslkds #but like tags are for blacklisting too so #idk if people like. even look for original fiction on tumblr tbh #okay gonna stop now

[polaroid-petals]

I'm this close to writing a fic where a few weeks post-confession, Hero has a dream where he gets the option to stab Basil in order for Mari to have never died, only for his knife to stab not this fictional dream version of Basil, but the real twelve-year-old one, whom he then slowly watches die as he's unable to save him from the gash in his stomach.

To his horror, as he wakes up four years after the murder with no memory of what happened afterwards, he learns that he covered up the murder, and he has no idea how or why he did it.

#polaroid posts #hey when the note of for science said that pain is reserved for all my other fics this is what i meant #i am a hard angst writer usually this fluff is a fluke #anyway #it's not exactly that hero mirrored basil and sunny's actions #when basil died hero decided he'd turn himself in #he wouldn't make the same mistakes that sunny and basil did #he understood why he had this dream and would face punishment and offer his friends closure in this dream #only for his memories to cut out and for him to wake up four years later in mari's arms and learn that basil one day disappeared #with no idea what he actually did in those four years #what he did between basil's death and now #everyone's lives have been torn apart afterwards #and this dream is starting to look a little too real and last a little too long… #i have the entire thing mapped out but grrr no time #i'll already say that aubrey got the shit end of the stick here #babygirl is suffering horrendously #might just write it

[straight4joekeery]

Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics

(Part nine)

Prev. Part one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Question,” Robin says putting the last sweater on Ozzy.

“For me or the cat?”

“You dingus. Did you end up getting tickets to Eddie’s concert in Indy Saturday?”

“No, and I feel really bad. My plan was to, like, show up outside so he thought I was there the whole time.”

“… um well that’s sad. But lucky for you, that’s not happening! Vickie’s sick and won’t be able to make it. So she told me to give her ticket to you.”

“I can't just take her-“

“Yes you can. And you are. Okay? Also this is the best outfit for him,” she said Turing Ozzy around in a tiny yellow raincoat.

“Sure. And are you positive Vickie is okay with this?”

“Yes, Steve,” she rolled her eyes, “She’s the one who suggested it.”

“Okay… well you better get home. Don’t you have a sick wife to care for?”

“She’s not my wife,” she whined. The funny part was he knew everything from both sides. He helped Vickie pick out a ring in March. She got too nervous and said she just needed to find “the right time”. In Robin’s case, he helped pick out a ring a year ago.

“Not yet because you guys are too dense.”

“Yeah okay, we’re done here. Be at mine at three and we’ll leave at six. Goodbye,” she said walking out of the door.

“Uh huh love you too.”

After the big realization that Eddie may or may not like him back, things have been different. He’s been happier. Less mopey, but also simultaneously sadder in anticipation to see him again. He’ll see him next Saturday and then after two weeks, he will be back. Permanently.

~~~~~~~~~

It was Friday, and Steve was panicking for many reasons. For starters, what if Steve does something wrong? Messes up. What if Eddie doesn’t like him back and he does something stupid and ruins their friendship forever? He needs to do something. Something to ‘wow’ Eddie.

He thinks back to the other day when he painted random objects. He found a small gift bag to put his gifts in. He put the ring tray and the guitar pick inside.

Hm. There is no way this is enough. I mean sure, yeah, it's the thought that counts, however… go big or go home right?

After an hour of thinking, shopping, and thorough consideration, he had gotten 3 more things. He knew Eddie’s two favorite things were d&d and music, so he felt he should include things that represent them. He started by making a mixtape. It included songs that Eddie loved and songs that he hated (aka Steve’s favorites). He also threw in some songs that had meaning behind them. Songs that reminded Steve of Eddie. Songs that just had good memories attached. Eddie will probably make fun of him for his song choices, but he knows he’ll secretly love it. At least he hopes so.

The next item was a customized set of dice. They were red, black, and a little bit of gray. They almost perfectly matched the pick that he wore around his neck (Jesus this dude is going to drown in guitar picks).

And now we’re on the last (but CERTAINLY not least) gift. Steve needed something to be the cherry on top. When he went out shopping he spent hours looking for something. He knew what it would be when he saw it. $175 later, he had it. It was a thick silver ring with a heart on it. Yes, yes, it was indeed very corny and Steve knew that. But he didn’t care. Instead of the heart having a bow, it had a dagger going through it (it felt kind of dark, but it’s Eddie were talking about). Now while that was a top tier gift, it wasn’t good enough, he deserved more. So Steve paid an extra hundred to get an engraving on the inside. It said ‘HERO’ with bats on both sides of the word.

Second step: clothing. Now normally he would just throw on whatever felt right in the morning, but this was no normal event. He set out a new pair of black ripped jeans that he did not buy just for this occasion. He looked through the stack of new band tees that he got at the mall. After 30 minutes of debating, he chose the Dio shirt. He saw the pin on his vest (which of course, he was also going to wear) and it had the most color. He topped it off with a pair of doc martens Robin had insisted on buying to match hers.

Next step: pep talks and panic attacks. It’s going to be fine. Everything will be perfect. But what if-

Last step: sleep.

~~~~~~~~

Swipe, swipe aaannndddd… done! After applying his (he will admit it now) makeup, he spent another good 15 minutes checking himself out. I mean yeah, not for him to be, like, super egotistical buuttt he looked amazing. And for once he hoped Robin was right. Well not literally, he certainly did not wish an aneurysm upon Eddie, but he did want a positive reaction. So for now he tried to rush out of the house. He checked for everything at least five times. Keys: check, wallet: check, gift: check, and most importantly Ozzy: check. Steve was going to just blast the music to ‘prepare’ himself (let’s be honest he would have turned the volume up four notches), but Ozzy would have gotten mad and he didn’t really want to deal with that. Fortunately, he didn’t make a sound the entire ride.

After he gathered his things and walked up to their door, he was greeted by Vickie. “Ozzy!” she said cheerfully reaching out for the cat. She sounded completely fine. Not a hint of illness in her tone nor her face. She must've noticed what he was thinking immediately, “Oh um,” she cleared her throat and fake coughed. Like very sadly fake.

Just then Robin sneaked up behind her, “hey Steve,” she said looking between the two of them.

“You little bi-” he started but was interrupted by a fit of giggles from the girls. “Why?”

“Sorry,” he glared at her, “sorry! I mean it. But let's be honest you would enjoy yourself way more than I would there.”

“But-”

“Nope. No arguments. You are going whether you like it or not. Plus, you need to shoot your shot,” she winked while imitating a basketball player.

“Ew, gross,” he rolled his eyes, “never do that again. But thank you”

“Of course, now go help Robin. She’s been staring in the closet for an hour.”

“Hey!” Robin shouted, “it has not been an hour… maybe 45 minutes at most! But yeah I do need help so c’mon now.”

He went to the spare bedroom quickly to drop off his bag and the gift, then ran to Robin’s. He briefly glanced through her side of the closet before picking out an outfit. Say what you will about Steve, but when given a style, he has a great fashion sense.

“Great! Perfect! Now follow moi,” she said, handing him (more so throwing it at his face) a makeup bag. She sat down at her vanity and smiled. “What? Stop looking at me like that. It’s not my fault you're better at it than I am!”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, raising his hands, “I feel honored.”

He got about halfway done before Robin started again, “How did you get so good at this anyways?”

He sighed, “short story or long?”

“We have hours.”

“Okay, so I was about seven, I think, and my parents just decided to start trying the whole neglect thing,” Robin gawked at him. Okay maybe not funny, “But they knew I was still a little kid so they hired a babysitter. Stephanie. They switched babysitters about every other month, until I was eleven-ish. She was the only one who was actually nice to me. They had been gone for about a week when she decided it’s a lot of work to drive back and forth, so she just started to stay at the house. And I should mention that Stephanie was the me of the ‘70s.”

“A total slut?”

“I am not a slut! …but yeah I guess,” Robin snorted, “stop moving! So anyways, she was on dates constantly.”

“Steve, that is the textbook definition of a slut.”

“Shut up! So one time I was following her around just watching her get ready for the date. And then she started curling her hair, and ,of course, doing her lovely makeup. So I started asking about it, and she ended up doing mine. That was the reason my dad fired her by the way. I loved it though. It made me feel like a different person. One day I asked if I could do hers and… I definitely did it. She ended up going on the date looking like… Frank-n-furter on steroids. The guy got one look at her and left.

“I just started practicing after that. On her, myself, and even Carol. So yeah. Now we’re here.”

“That wasn’t really a long story.”

“Yeah, but it was uninteresting.”

“I don’t think so. I thought it was sweet.”

“I guess,” he glanced at his watch, 4:49, “we have about an hour, what shall we do?”

“We shall go get something to eat. There’s a new diner downtown. It supposedly has, like, no wait time.”

“Are our outfits diner appropriate?” he said, gesturing at himself.

“We’re in Indianapolis, Steve,” true.

“We should probably get going then.”

“We shall,” she stood up and bowed down, holding out her hand.

“Shut up,” he said, grabbing her hand.

For a product of Indiana, the diner wasn’t that bad. And yeah, the service was fast (but a little too fast). They ended up going to the venue extra early. There were already hundreds of people there. Keep in mind that the concert started at 7 (it was currently 5:32). They started to walk around the general area of the arena. They giggled as they saw a group of girls that were jumping up and down discussing their massacre crushes on all of the members. (“Ooh Steve look out, you might have some competition”) They spent the remainder of their time, sitting against a wall, gossiping. “I knew I never liked Julie. She was always oddly obsessive over things. I was also friends with her ex at a random summer camp, waaayyyy to good for her.”

“Thats kinda what I thought. To be completely honest, the principal hates her. She's probably going to get fired soon.”

“Good,” he face randomly lit up, “Oh. My. God. Steve! I forgot to tell you!” Robin gasped grabbing onto Steve’s hands.

“What?”

“Nance called the other day. It finally happened!” she shrieked

“What happened… oh. Oh my god really?” he immediately knew what she was talking about. Around ‘89 all of the older teens/ young adults all started placing bets on when they thought Will and Mike would get together. (Nancy and Argyle: 2-4 years, Jonathan: 2-4 months, Eddie: 10-13 years, and finally the winners Robin and Steve: 6-8 years)

“Yes! So we won! What does that make the ‘queer count’ now?”

“Too many.” From their knowledge the count was around 7 (assuming yes, Eddie was gay) but it was most likely way more. They looked around and saw that everyone around them was walking inside the arena now. They followed them and after about 10 minutes of waiting in line, they were inside. And oh my. It was huge. Their tickets were for the general admission, so he grabbed onto Robin's arm as he tried to push his way to the front of the crowd. They managed to make it and held onto the metal barrier like their lives depended on it. They were not moving no matter what happened. Now they just had to wait. Again.

“How y’a feeling?”

“…fine? Why?”

“Oh no reason. Maybe that your husband is finally coming back from war and you get to do something else besides staring out the window in self pity,” she said, clasping her hands over her chest, before immediately grasping back on to the barrier.

He rolled his eyes, “Weird analogy, but no. I feel fine. I mean, I’m more excited for the two weeks to be up. He’s only going to be here for two days.”

“Sure, but still. I’d be bouncing off the walls if it was Vickie.”

“Yeah, but you’re Robin. We are not the same.”

“I feel like that was an insult,” she turned to face Steve, “how much longer?”

“About twenty-ish minutes,” Robin groaned and buried her face into his shoulder. They stayed just like that (minus the constant “time?”) until a group of people came out to test and prepare a few things on the stage. 6:53. At this point neither of them were standing still. Most of the lights were starting to turn off when the staff walked off the stage. 7:00. “Ready?”

“Maybe?” She said, grabbing onto his arm. Then just like that, there they were. More specifically Eddie. Eddie was back. Eddie was here. The whole crowd started to go wild. If they were this loud, wait for the music.

Eddie walked up to the main microphone, “Feels good to be home,” again, insanity erupted from the crowd, “okay, I assume you guys know the drill by now, so tonight is my dedication. I’ve decided to dedicate this concert to my best friend, Steve,” the band all gave him disapproving looks. Oh wait.

He turned to look at Robin, who was already looking at him, “That’s me!”

“That’s you!”

“So yeah,” Eddie continued, “uh he’s been there for me when I needed it, and if I don’t stop talking I’m probably going to cry. Anyways love you Steve and let’s get this party started!” Steve chose to ignore that comment for the time being. Robin decided otherwise, grabbing his shoulders and jumping up and down.

“Don’t have a chance my ass,” He went to shush her, but the music did that job for him. Yep. Loud. It was amazing though. He was completely mesmerized by the entire performance. Especially the last song. It was a lot softer, he liked it. But then he really listened. He immediately knew the meaning. It was beautiful. How could Eddie never tell him about this? It was perfect. He remembers the whole conversation that it was based off of too. It was just because of something dumb Dustin said that set him off. He told him every last detail of his life that day, and that’s where the infamous Invisible Man sprung.

Before he knew it, it was over. “That was amazing,” Robin said gawking at him, “but we should definitely talk about how he-”

“Later. But, agreed. Worth the migraine, ten out of ten.”

“Well, let’s go find your man,” she winked at him. She was so weird. But it’s not like he didn’t run around to the back to find him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next

UHH FINALLY???? Took me long enough. I am so so so so sorry abt the delay. If y’all didn’t see the post, my metal health declined for like a singular day and then I just kinda gave up with motivation for a bit. But then I did finish, and I went to copy it to paste it here and I deleted the whole thing. But I do think it was for the better bc this is way better then it was. But yay? I just now realized it’s kinda long. I wrote like the majority of it yesterday and today sooooo kinda rushed. I also only reread it once because I feel horrible for not posting. So sorry if it sucks. But y’all liked the incorrect quotes so I’m glad for that. I really do want to personally thank every single one of you. You reading means the world to me. I could not be happier. And the first part is also now up on AO3! I’m going to wait til the end of the fic to post on there. But yay! Hope you guys enjoyed!!! Comment or reblog if you want to be tagged!

Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflowercreator @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 (<<special thanks to you for helping me a bunch throughout this fic <3)@fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet @wonderland-girl143-blog @briceslayed @youaremylobster @juststeddiebrainrot @pr3ttyb0yindie @scarlet-pandrian @drips-from-breaking-bones @plasticcrotches

#um hey again #I am alive despite popular belief #hope y’all like this one #I just redid like a whole chuck of one of the parts before doing this cause I hated it #anywho #BYLER #I needed it yk? #I cant write a fic w/ no Byler #yip yip #I’m so happy I did this #look at me go! I didn’t delete the whole thing #progress guys #I rly like the new layout I did #real tag time #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #joe keery #joseph quinn #rockie #steveddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie fic #teacher!steve #rockstar!eddie #robin buckley #yip! #s4jks lyrics

[l0ngtimen0spooning]

Someone tell this man to stop making things into fucking musicals PLEASE

#doctor who #russell t davies #i gotta have words with that man #(also i was right ringo and george had like zero lines) #but hey i liked the first episode #mixed on the second #i do have a problem with the whole world ending plot thing cause that feels like its gunna be big with this #but drag queen music devil fucked #the actor did the role SO well #but i was mixed on the episode #the pantheon thing is strange too like thats what im most worried about writing wise like is this man gunna make every other ep a universe #ending thing PLEASE NO #i dont think doctor who needs more of that after the flux #it needs more well written small disasters im looking at things like midnight #ALSO AS A BEATLES FAN WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY BOYS #ALSO SUSANNN SOMEONE CHECK ON HER CAUSE GRAMPS SURE AINT #but i do like the doctor and ruby's dynamic they seem fun

[variousqueerthings]

Hawkeye ending his No-Jokes-Allowed time literally Just Past Midnight and projecting them across the whole camp via loudspeaker and BJ reacting like this:

Not for Hawkeye’s benefit (as he can’t see him), just unfiltered fondness for his favourite funny-man

#bj hunnicutt #hawkeye pierce #im watching MASH #MASH #bj throughout this whole episode really just like: look don't take it so seriously i love your jokes i think you're hilarious #we can end the bet early it won't even be a thing #hawkeye Agonising the whole way through (and hey... remember way back in... s4? s5? when bj pointed out that hawkeye #is super competitive and always has to get the last word in......) #(i love their lovers spats) #(i went on a whole tangent to mashbrainrot (sorry) about the whole camp being so sure they're having sex #and they're not and it would actually make everyone MORE insane to find that out) #(all of THIS and you're not even lovers????) #(seriously the Brain Chemistry happening this season between those two especially is fascinating) #so far I cannot imagine them actually having sex at the 4077th but i DO think they fantasise about it and never talk about it #remember when hawkeye started telling bj a dirty fantasy? and yeah he ended it early by making it a hilariously weird joke #but like... bj was fully into it.......... #sex by proxy happens so much on this show #nd yes i will write about charles in this episode in the morning (because never did i doubt he'd be on margaret's side)

[crossbackpoke-check]

56 and any Yamo pairing! 🫶

i just wheezed so hard when i saw what the song was i almost snorted coffee out of my nose i am so sorry for this one

#56 - kyoto phoebe bridgers + yamo

the story of how this song ended up on my wrapped is too long so it’s going in the tags but. let me set the scene for you.

2026 NHL GLOBAL SERIES™️ JAPAN - Presented by YPPI

November 13 & 14, 2026: Dallas Stars, Montreal Canadiens, Seattle Kraken, Vancouver Canucks

Saitama Super Arena, Saitama, Japan

It’s a pitiful excuse of a consolation prize for not being able to go to the Olympics, but Kailer’s not going to look a vacation horse in the mouth. The arena’s cool. It’s huge. The people are cool. There’s so many more of them than he thought there’d be with jerseys that have his name on the back, and a lot more that have the familiar orange and blue. He takes a picture of the fifth Oilers Yamamoto jersey he signs—this one’s the good Reverse Retro—and texts it to Connor, says,

no one here has even heard of mcjesus

and gets a moon face emoji in response. Leon’s influence. Kailer’s still never really deciphered what that one means, and he doesn’t think Connor knows either.

They don’t have a lot of time off between games, but Kailer’s trying to be a good tourist. His dad had been so happy when Kailer had told him about the series that Kailer’d had to stop him from trying to book a flight a year in advance, and his mom’s been just as bad, sending him every article she sees about Best New Spot in Tokyo! Cool Restaurant! Have You Seen This Japanese Cat Café? that she scrolls across on Facebook since June. Suzy’s in the same boat, so they’ve been crossing off their compiled travel-guide list together, looping in as many guys as they can. Everyone’s been pretty game. All the teams are crammed into close quarters at the same hotel, which means everyone wants to spend as much time as possible outside of it, and it helps that Kailer’s gotten pretty close with all the other guys that the NHL picked up as Global Series figureheads. Robo’s memes? Absolutely fire. The groupchat loves them.

For every item he crosses off the list, Kailer takes a picture and keeps it tucked in his phone notes. It’s like speed-running a scavenger hunt—they’re only here for four days—but he’s doing a pretty good job. His favorite so far has been all the gardens. They’re stunning, trees shining bright red and yellow, and every vendor has been selling maple candies, maple cakes, and even fried maple, though the official maple festival doesn’t start until next week. The second garden he visits, he does it on his own after practice, buying two cakes from a cart near the gate and walking until he loses the bustle outside. It’s easy to get lost in the winding pathways, heading deeper into the quiet, and there’s dozens of benches underneath the burnished leaves where young couples are tucked away on dates, or old friends are laughing and catching up. In some of the little clearings, there’s small shrines where people leave offerings, a prayer for good luck or good fortune.

Kailer stops at one without any people and sets the second maple cake on top of it, then sits and scrolls through all the texts that he’s missed. His mom gets replied to with a picture of him outside the garden gate, grinning and surrounded by other travelers. He sends his brother a picture of a trashy graphic I Love Japan t-shirt with the threat that he’ll buy one for him, and Kailer’s dad gets a picture of the meticulously arranged and cut bonsai that are across from the bench where he’s sitting. The Seattle groupchat gets a recycled meme from Robo, and he gets two thumbs up and an “LMAO” before he can even exit the thread. Finally, Kailer takes a picture of the half-eaten maple cake in his hand, holding it next to a fallen maple leaf on the bench, and gets halfway through typing another message before he thinks better of it.

(On the plane over, Drieds was reading them a story about how when they first introduced the high-speed railway, people were afraid to use it because they thought it would be too fast for their souls to keep up.

“Bro, if that were true, you just left your soul in the middle of the Pacific,” Ebs had laughed. “Planes are faster than trains.”

“Are they?” Matty asked. “Isn’t the train in Japan the fastest in the world?”

Drieds couldn’t make it through the rest of the story over the sound of everyone ripping Matty to shreds, so Kailer didn’t get to ask whether or not they found out anything about planes. Kailer’s not worried about his soul, but the logic makes a strange kind of sense; after all, he traveled 429 miles in five and a half hours once, and that was a little too fast for his heart to keep up.)

Fuck it. Kailer’s been trying to write a response for the past ten days, and he’s sick of swiping in and out of the message, staring at the keyboard so long he starts to see swirls in his vision.

Kailer drafts the text again and sends it, no context, no caption. A text travels faster than a high-speed train or a jet. Maybe it’ll pick his heart back up on the way.

#I don’t know how this song ended up on my Spotify wrapped because phoebe bridgers is too emotionally damaging for me to listen to like. #at all unless i am In It HOWEVER. there is this one silly video that brings me so much joy and made me feel semi-reasonable about listening #to kyoto & it’s the one video of the two painter guys painting the room & the lil guy is being a menace & the other guy just looks at him s #fondly & so lovingly & is that not the thesis of kailer yamamoto. be small be a menace be beloved by everyone. ANYWAY #liv in the replies #look this was going to be such a different thing and then. my brain went HEY BUDDY GUESS THE FUCK WHAT kyoto is a city in Japan. #day off in kyoto. guess who’s Japanese. guess what the nhl loves to do as HIFE publicity. also growing the AAPI audience is HUGE and i thin #they should. like originally i had NO idea what this was going to be (i’m so lying. the line ‘i’m gonna kill you’ but incredibly fond a la #the two painters video kept replaying in my head and i was like l m a o. klimmer & kailer. no plot all vibes it’s klimmer & Kailer that’s i #there is no real plot there is no actual idea the amount of googling that i did to write just this is UNREASONABLE i would love to be norma #about anything ever but i ALSO invented so much backstory to this that has no way of appearing in the actual fic and also jokes for ME #for instance. YPPI is the american manufacturer for yamaha motorcycles and. suzuki. yamamoto. (it’s not my brainworms it’s due to a fancam) #respectfully also i cannot write this fic. i have never been to japan and i think it would take me eight years to google enough #to be relatively comfortable like y’all have never seen the extensive research i put in to fucking phiLLY and a whole other COUNTRY??? #where the premise of the fic is learning how to be a tourist in your life and sometimes you have to grow out of things? #yeah i AM going to make something with the idea of Momijigari and life is ephemeral. is that a plot? no it’s vibes. #kailer goes to japan in the fall and realizes he’s a liar. who lies. (he misses [redacted]) (the redacted is because i haven’t decided) #also also. the garden reference is because a) i spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME ON GOOGLE and found out things to do in saitama and also that #kailer’s grandpa had a meticulous garden and i just think that’s neat #hiding-from-reality-56 #random ficlet is unbeta’d un-anything’d i don’t know WHERE this came from or the real plot of it at all. ok thanks byeeeee

[bookwyrminspiration]

“how did you even get sick? you look ugly. come here.” For Keefe and Tam? Can be platonic or romantic if you want to do anything for it :). Maybe with cuddles because I, personally, am craving the skin

I love your writing btw please write a book one day <33

That's very sweet of you--I'd love to write several books someday! I've got some concepts up my sleeve already. Also, the way I set up their dynamic (a self-inflicted personal hell) the cuddles aren't as prominent as I would've liked to give you, but hopefully the rest of the fic makes up for that <3

idiot boys and stupid feelings <- ao3 link

warnings: sickness, brief reference of the twin's time banished and all associated troubles, but that's really it!

word count: 6.1k

Watching the sun wallowing, meekly disappearing before an unforgiving horizon as it trailed reds and purples and loud oranges in its wake across the sky was a conflicting sight for Tam, who observed unimpressed from the balcony.

Of all the sunsets he’d witnessed, the view from whatever place this was--Mr. Forkle had told them, but he hadn’t bothered to listen to that part; he’d been more focused on words like “resurgence” and “outbreak” and “victims,” the more important things--wasn’t one to stand out. A simple skyline, typical colors. The sun could do better.

A frown started to surface, but instead of letting it breach, he reached to tug on his bangs instead, the one habit he could never seem to break.

Cool air washed over his face, chilling the drying sweat sticking to his skin, a remnant of the efforts he’d exhausted, that they were all exhausting.

Over an hour ago, their group had dispersed to their various assignments, each to return to Wherever-the-hell once they’d finished their parts; he’d been done first, and was now alone in the hideout--as alone as one could be when they were always watched.

The balcony sat perched over a tumbling, mountainous expanse, sloping down into the night, a twisted metal railing decorated with florals and feathers encasing it. The wide doors were fully open behind him, allowing the light from the room beyond to spill into the creeping night and the cool, fresh air in.

As he stood there, he pretended he couldn’t feel the eyes of this place, examining his hand for traces of shadow, darkness caught under his nails, averting his gaze from that uninspiring sunset. From the memories they stirred.

Another sunset meant another day survived, but another night to face. Time without reliable warmth, with impaired sight, things moving in the night, fitful sleep.

Tam’s mouth twitched, more of the frown slipping out, shoving those thoughts aside and finding the nearest other to latch onto and distract himself.

Which landed him on blonde hair, pale eyes, bags creeping beneath them, charcoal smudges on fingertips.

And something…off.

Of all the people to think about, he didn’t have to settle on Keefe, how he’d seemed…fuzzy, ill-alert, at their “meeting” earlier. There were over a dozen people in the room, and he made it his business to watch each and every one of them, to be prepared just in case--

But, regardless of how many people he observed, his thoughts snagged on Keefe. There was something unspoken about him, something festering, something that had made him want to leave him behind. Give his piece of the assignment to someone else.

Instead, he’d decided that, with the least important piece of their puzzle, Keefe was the least of his troubles.

It had been a surprise, actually, to return to the hideout and find himself the first one back, he’d been so sure that with such a small responsibility Keefe would be impatiently pacing the place, about the track someone down to join them instead of waiting for them all to reconvene while complaining about how miniscule his job had been.

Tam’s thoughts were interrupted by the soft, dragging sound of approaching footsteps.

He stilled, darkness staining his fingers like charcoal as he tilted his head to the side, listening.

They came from somewhere around the hideout, outside, only audible because he, himself, was outside.

Shadows traveled further up his arm, a tactful, slow acclimation to the darkness falling further with each second the sun acquiesced the sky.

The footsteps paused, and in their place a door handle jangled; stone-like, Tam turned just enough to peer over his shoulder, to watch as the door swung open and a particular pale-eyed blond stepped through, hand pushing through his hair, eyes scanning across the room, the empty couches facing each other, barren counters, untouched chairs with throw pillows still dented from over an hour ago.

His eyes missed Tam, skipping past the balcony sheathed in unnatural shadow as he swept the door shut behind him.

Immediately, his facade crumbled, and if Tam said he was surprised he’d be lying.

Keefe’s shoulders drooped, carefully curated carefree expression melting into bland nothing, fingers coming up to hold his temples, traveling back to poke gently at the base of his neck like it ached.

Shuffling, dragging footsteps took him to one of the couches, where he lowered himself as though the weight of the world rested solely on his shoulders.

Tam only watched, squinting to see better.

He wondered how long it would take Keefe to realize he was there, if he even would at all. The thought of how long he could probably get away with it amused him, but slipped from his grasp at the sound of a sniffle.

His muscles tensed once more, ready to make himself known and gone immediately if Keefe was about to start crying, but the sound repeated, and with it, everything from that evening clicked into place.

“How did you even get sick? You look ugly. Come here,” he said, turning fully as he did so, facing his back to the memory of a sunset and inclining his head as he learned against the railing, looking Keefe over from the better angle.

With that angle, he got a good view of the way he jumped, spine straightening and eyes widening, showing the whites all around.

His hands dropped from his head, falling in his lap as he shook himself off, a few precious seconds passing before he had himself sorted. “Were you just watching me? Dude, that’s so creepy.”

Tam ignored the question. “Drop the act, I can see right through it.”

Keefe’s shoulders tightened, and he opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted.

“Don’t even bother to try and lie to me right now. You’ve been off all evening. Now, like I said, come here.” Tam jerked his head towards the spot beside him.

His posture shifted, softening ever so slightly as he glanced between him and the door, as if there was someone else to see. Perhaps waiting for Biana to leap out of the shadows and accost them.

“Why?”

“Fresh air.”

Keefe frowned, leaning back further into the cushions, a slight grate to his voice. “But I just got all that fresh air running around scouting, looking for nothing.”

Tam shrugged. “Fine. Don’t, then.”

Silence fell for only a few short moments before Keefe grumbled something Tam couldn’t pick up, not even with all his practice, pushing up off the couch and stalking over to the balcony beside him, leaning facing out.

At least, Tam thought that’s what he was going for; instead, his feet dragged across the floor and his path swayed, Keefe unable to keep himself moving straight until he slumped against the banister, breath shaky--though he tried to hide it.

“You’re a mess, where’d you even catch…whatever that is,” Tam eyed him up and down, from the wan pallor of his face contrasted with the unnatural flush on his cheeks to the uneven rise and fall of his chest to the unsteady stance of his feet, relying on that railing for support.

Keefe huffed out what might’ve been a laugh. “Wow, thanks. Real supportive. I feel so cared about.” A low sighed rolled between his lips, laughter fading. “I think I caught it from Fitz. He wasn’t feeling great, but I ignored that and insisted we hang out anyway, and now…wait, earlier, did you say ‘all evening?’ Like you’ve been watching me all evening?”

It took Tam a moment to follow Keefe’s disjointed thoughts, lips tightening as he recalled the exact words he’d spoken.

If his cheeks felt warm, it was all the layers, all the black, nothing else. He scowled. “It’s not my fault you’ve had that funk around you all day. It’s hard to ignore.”

It wasn’t, actually; he had more than enough experience curating what, exactly, he paid attention to and was aware of. Pushing Keefe and the haze around him from his mind would’ve been simple enough.

In fact, it took more energy to pay attention than to let his gaze skip past that concealed fog around him. And yet he’d paid attention anyway.

“I think you just like me,” Keefe said, grin pulling at his lips, lifting his head enough to turn and peer at him. The unhealthy flush spread across his cheeks had starting fading to a lighter pink in the cool air, his eyes still dimly alight with fever, he noticed.

His eyes scanned scarred, warm skin, mussed hair, a silhouette backlit by the soft glow of the room beyond, the silence stretching on, his statement unanswered.

Keefe shifted, pushing off the railing to stand straighter, the two of them almost equal in height, though Keefe stood slightly taller and shamelessly used it to his advantage. “We’re alone; you can admit it, you know.”

That was…much more forward than usual.

Tam rolled his eyes. “All I have to admit is how much more annoying you are than I let on.”

“You hesitated.”

“You’re aren’t thinking clearly.”

Keefe shook his head, looking down the few inches he had on Tam, leaning in closer, unconscious of the movement; Tam was very conscious of it. “Uh uh, I may be fuzzy”--he tapped at his temple, blinking as though fighting to keep his eyes open--”but I noticed. You were thinking about it, weren’t you? You’re always thinking about something.”

Tam’s lips pressed together, averting his eyes, scowling. His gaze flickered to the door, fragments of shadows skittered along the edge of the room in tandem. They were alone, but for how long? How long until the rest of their group finished each of their individual scouting missions, returning to catch them too close in the dark?

He’d spent his life with it as his defense, and yet now its charged silence threatened to turn on him.

“You’re doing it again,” Keefe interrupted, the words fumbled, exhaustion creeping its greedy fingertips around the edges, digging its claws into the vowels.

His voice drew Tam’s gaze back, piercing through the dark. Had Keefe gotten even closer?

How had he missed it?

Tam’s body went rigid, the cool air doing nothing to combat the turmoil stirring in his mind, leaving him to fend for himself. “What--what are you doing? Cut it out.”

Brow furrowing, the words took a moment to pierce through Keefe’s thick skull.

When they did, he took a step away.

He opened his mouth, but closed it again, instead letting out a breath, one hand unconsciously rising to rub at the base of his skull, poking and prodding at what he was now certain was a headache.

Tam latched onto it like a lifeline against the sudden silence, the retreat he’d asked for and dreaded. “Have you--hailed Elwin? He always fixes you up.”

Keefe let his prior comments drop untouched, as though they were never there, snorting, “Elwin’s got enough going on with the gnomes and all the councillor visits. I’m not going to bother him with just a”--he gestured at himself--”cold or something. Whatever it is.”

“He’d want you to,” Tam reminded him, trying to be less…whatever it was about him that had Keefe stepping away. Even though he’d told him to.

Keefe had slumped over the banister again, forehead practically pressed to the railing, goosebumps raised across his skin, shivering now instead of overheating. He didn’t answer.

A few shadows slipped forward, invisible against the descending dark, hedging around the edges of Keefe’s shape, hesitating.

“Keefe.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?” It was more exhale than speaking, the words happening to tumble out at the same time, by chance rather than intention.

Tam frowned, only for a moment before he schooled his expression. “What are you even talking about?”

“When everyone else gets back, are you going to tell them?” Without any force, he gestured to himself.

“That you’re sick? Tell them yourself. Probably won’t even have to, one look at you and it’s obvious.”

Keefe sighed in what might’ve been relief. “Thanks.”

Tam crossed his arms, looking away, eyes scanning over the empty room, shadows creeping through the door searching and searching for others, but there was no one to break the silence that fell once more. They truly were alone, just like Keefe had said.

Why? They weren’t supposed to be. Where was everyone else? Why hadn’t they come back yet?

“You,” Keefe started, though he stayed with his head pressed to his arm against the railing, “are one to talk about funks when you’ve got your own all over you.”

“What?”

Keefe waved a free hand, nonchalant. “You’re so worried I can feel it, and I’m not even touching you.”

Tam glanced down to Keefe’s hands, where they rested against the railing. Close enough that they could reach out and touch him, if they wanted to.

He looked away.

“Did I successfully distract you with my charming personality?” Keefe asked, shifting his head so he could look at Tam, the hint of a smile on his mouth. But…less so. Not as wide as he’d been smiling earlier.

“You talk too much,” he scowled, reaching up to tug at his bangs, the scratch of metal against his fingertips comforting.

Keefe made an indignant noise. “You’re the one who started this conversation, creeping on me from the shadows and telling me to ‘come here.’ This one’s on you. If you didn’t want to talk to me, why ask me to come closer to you? Hypocrite.”

Now it was Tam’s turn to be indignant. “You were feverish, I told you to get over here to cool off--and so you wouldn’t infect the room.”

“Nice to know you care.” Keefe mumbled, eyes rolling.

“Of course I do,” he hissed back, then clamped his mouth shut.

Keefe stilled beside him, but Tam refused to move his gaze from where it bored a hole into the far wall, that frown from before resurfacing as his fingers dug into the railing he leaned on, bones and muscle turning to stone.

Silence screamed for long enough Tam was nearly convinced neither of them would ever speak again, and then--

“You’re gonna pass out if you stay so rigid. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to loosen up once in a while?”

Internally, he flinched, but his body remained impassive. He shot Keefe a glare. “You have to make everything into a joke, don’t you?”

It was Keefe’s turn to flinch, scowling as he looked away--but it lacked any real conviction, lethargy dimming the edges as he sniffled, a slight shiver running through him.

Tam’s frown deepened.

He watched--though if you asked if he’d been watching, he’d deny it--as Keefe’s attention snagged on something he couldn’t see, eyes distant as he flexed his hand over and over.

Flashes of cold nights and running noses, flush cheeks and wondering hoping begging Linh to wake, to be well, to push through the haze and find him again passed through his mind. Searching for herbs but not knowing what to look for, never enough supplies, coughs and setting suns and days stretching into weeks into months into eternity as Keefe faded further and further into that haze, away from him.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. “What?”

Somehow Keefe found a way to slump down even further, resting his head on his arm, squished cheek distorting his words as they spilled out, filter breaking like a dam under his exhaustion. “I don’t get you. You say you’ve been watching me all evening and tell me to come stand next to you, and then get all defensive and upset with everything I say. You’re feeling something strong enough I’m picking up flashes through the air, but I’m not touching you and I can’t think straight so I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel great. You say you care and then snap at me, what am I supposed to make of all that?”

Outburst over, Keefe stopped leaning on the rail entirely, instead lowering himself to the ground as he rubbed at his neck, still sniffling, staring off into the dark, sun long since gone.

Tam couldn’t help the lurch in his chest at the sight.

Keefe or the darkness, he couldn’t tell, but the jolt was there all the same.

“You must be worse than I thought if you’re getting all emotionally aware on me,” he peered down at him, trying to distract himself from the stone sitting in his chest.

“Seriously? You were just getting on my ass about making jokes out of everything.”

Shadows pulsed under his palms, swirling with an unidentified heat he didn’t want to think about. “Fine. You have a point there. I…sorry.”

“Whatever.”

Keefe made a dismissive gesture up at him, other hand still flexing, eyes closed now as he rested his face against the railing, legs crossed beneath him. It didn’t look comfortable.

After a few terse moments of debate with himself, both sides screaming adamantly, he huffed out a breath and lowered himself down hard, not giving himself a chance to second guess any longer.

“Do you want to read my emotions?”

Keefe sat up in surprise, looking over at the hand extended in offering.

“What? You’d let me?”

Teeth grinding, words slow, “You said you couldn’t tell through the air. Wouldn’t this help?”

Keefe searched his face as though making sure he was serious, and Tam fervently hoped there wasn’t anything to find as he reached to tug on his bangs. “Make a decision before I change my mind.”

That was all the encouragement Keefe needed, gaze sliding down his body--Tam swore he could feel its weight against his skin like static--to his hand, wrapping two fingers around his wrist as though taking his pulse.

Keefe’s eyelids fluttered as he inhaled, sudden and deep, grip tightening, a furrow between his brows as he pushed through his fatigue and into the maelstrom of emotion he’d been complaining about.

Trying not to squirm beneath the scrutiny, all he could do was watch, entirely unaware of what, specifically, Keefe was finding. What he’d learn.

Was this what it felt like when he read people’s shadow vapor, the sitting and the waiting?

Why had he agreed to this?

Why had he even suggested it?

A small, rebellious voice in the back of his head knew why, but he shoved it away before it could put voice to those thoughts.

“What--” Keefe made a face, scrunching up his nose, soft confusion in his tone, “what are you afraid of?”

Tam started. “I’m not--”

“You do realize you can’t lie to me, right?”

Keefe looked at him with an intensity that made him want to knock the look from his face, to turn around and walk into the night.

He settled for pulling his arm away, breaking the connection--or at least, he tried to.

As his wrist slipped from Keefe’s grip, he caught his hand, fingers brushing against his palm as he squeezed tight.

“Wait. I’m…sorry.” Keefe looked lost, fumbling for words, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “I…didn’t mean to push you. It’s just a really strong feeling. It surprised me. Is it the thing with the gnomes? Because we’re going to figure it out and fix it.”

“I know that.”

“Then what…?” Keefe trailed off, looking lost, brows furrowing as he tried to think through the fog in his mind.

Tam’s grip tightened involuntarily, memories from his and Linh’s Exillium days flashing through his mind. “I don’t like sickness.”

Keefe nodded, still not quite following. “Well duh, no one does, it sucks--”

“It’s not the same for you,” he interrupted, looking away, leaning back against the railings, peering into the night sky as his stomach clenched. “When you’ve been sick, you’ve always been able to call on the best care your world has to offer, just a hail away. All the supplies you could ever need readily available. You’d be better by the morning as though it’d never even happened, just a slight discomfort, comfortable knowing you’d be just fine. You could take a day off, even. You never had to wonder if there was enough to treat you, if you could find what you needed, not sure when she’d get better and if she’d be okay to go to school, or if you’d have to leave her alone to go and get your beads, hoping you wouldn’t catch it because there wasn’t enough to treat the both of you and someone had to get the beads otherwise you’d be left behind.”

Tam cut off, biting his lip, for once not even caring what Keefe picked up on his palm, too distracted as he tried to get the images of Linh’s flushed cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, the tremor in her fingers as she propped herself against the wall, out of his head.

“Linh got sick,” Keefe whispered, more statement than question, but he decided to answer it anyways.

“Bad. It’d started out just a mild cold she must’ve caught from another wayward--fever, sniffles, headaches,” he glanced at Keefe’s flushed cheeks, blinking uncomfortably as he rubbed at his neck, both all too aware how it matched up with his symptoms, “but it didn’t go away. And we didn’t have anything to treat it with. And it got worse. A lot worse. I hated watching the sun set because she always shivered so badly without the sunlight’s warmth, no matter how hot I made my body. But the worst part was the only reason it got that bad was because we didn’t have any elixirs or treatment--but they exist. We just didn’t have access. And yet you do and throw it away,” he added at the end, bitterness coating his tongue.

Keefe swallowed, thumb pressed into the back of Tam’s hand. “I…guess I hadn’t thought about that.”

“No shit.”

For once, Keefe let the attitude slide, an incredibly unsettling phenomenon, because instead he was looking directly at Tam. He was suddenly reminded that with their hands still linked, he could still feel every single one of his emotions.

“What if--what if I promise to take something myself then? I still don't want to bother Elwin--the gnomes have him busy enough--but…you don’t need a physician to take elixirs. There’s probably something somewhere in whatever-the-hell this place is called--I wasn’t listening when Fork man said the name.”

“Me either,” Tam admitted. “It’s probably something stupid. Do you really plan to take something, or are you just saying that?” He couldn’t hide the skepticism in his voice, but Keefe would’ve felt it anyways.

Keefe made an offended noise. “I meant it! I’m trying to make you feel better about your sad life, because Foster keeps getting on my case about being nice to you and she’s so stubborn about it--and maybe I just like you, you ever thought about that?”

Unlike Tam, Keefe didn’t look the slightest bit concerned by the confession, grumpily playing with Tam’s fingers in his hand, poking at the veins beneath his skin. Though maybe he hadn’t thought through the consequences of saying it, or was too tired to.

“Do you?” Tam asked, quiet, braced against the answer.

Was he worried he’d say no?

Or that he’d say yes?

“I do,” he said, eyes on their linked hands, “more than I should.”

A heady rush passed through him, spine tingling as his stomach dropped--relief? Fear?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Keefe’s already flushed face reddened further, as his brain started to catch up with where the conversation was headed, pressing his lips together as though he could stop it. But there was no way Tam was letting him walk away without answers and Keefe knew it; he’d opened the floodgates, now he had to ride out the wave. It was his own fault, really.

Sighing, he made a non-committal gesture as though that would explain everything. “We both know it would be better for both of us if…if no one had to put up with me. If I could just keep all my problems and feelings to myself instead of everyone else having to deal with the mess.”

Tam made a face, snapping, “You don’t have any right to say what would be better for me. Don’t make that choice for me.”

Starting back a little, Keefe tilted his head to the side, mouth falling open a touch, glassy eyes searching Tam’s.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t get to decide what is and isn’t worth my time.”

Keefe’s breath caught, tongue between his teeth as he ventured, barely audible, “And me? Am I…?”

Tam didn’t answer for a moment, heartbeat screaming in his ears loud enough he could barely hear himself say, “You’re the empath, you tell me.”

A few moments passed, Keefe’s shaking fingers pressing against the lines of his palm with intention this time.

As the shaking spread, Keefe’s eyes widening as he glanced between him and his palm, Tam added, “Why do you think I invited you over here?”

“...Fresh air?”

Tam rolled his eyes, but tried to keep his voice gentle as he stared ahead. “Because…I wanted to keep an eye on you. Because I care and its--fuck it, its worth my time, alright? Don’t make me say it again.”

Against his better judgment, he glanced at Keefe, only to see a shit-eating grin starting to spread across his lips.

“Don’t push your luck,” Tam grumbled, shifting as he reached for his bangs with his free hand, fingers flexing in Keefe’s grip unconsciously.

Keefe nodded, smile mellowing, lingering until it turned into something uncertain. “Where…where does that leave us?”

Tam didn’t have an answer.

“Us?” he repeated instead.

Reddening, Keefe tried to backtrack, though he still didn’t let go of his hand.

But he was all out of words, quickfire mind finally exhausted, nothing left to shield himself as his mouth gaped and closed, nothing to save himself.

As if he’d ever need saving from Tam.

Scowling, he cursed idiot boys and stupid feelings, shaking his head, pressing his palm firmly against Keefe’s, deliberately thinking the words he didn’t know if he could voice again, bringing the feeling to the forefront of his very self.

I care.

Keefe hissed in a breath through his teeth. “I--oh.”

“Oh?”

“Us.”

It was all he said, but it was all he needed to say in that moment, because suddenly it was no longer a question.

It was an undeniable certainty.

“Alright,” Tam said, nearly lightheaded, “us.”

He didn’t think he minded his hand in Keefe’s anymore, whatever he’d find.

He’d already found exactly what Tam had wanted him to, what he’d been unwilling to admit he’d been hoping he would.

A shiver crawled through Keefe’s body, and for a moment Tam became the empath between the two of them. Unimaginable lethargy pulled at his bones, breath labored through narrowed airways, a fog in his mind trying to drag him into darkness.

They’d left his illness unspoken for a moment, distracted by their…whatever that conversation was, but no longer.

“You need to rest,” Tam instructed, gentle, but firm. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, but Keefe wouldn’t make it easy.

That, as expected, sparked something in Keefe, some last ditch effort to pull himself together. “No, there’s the resurgence, and we still have to reconvene with everyone--” “Please.”

The word surprised them both, stopping them short.

That…wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

But something in Keefe looked uncertain, lost, so he said it again. “Please, Keefe.”

“I…okay,” he deflated, words barely a whisper as he gave in, the bravado he’d put on slipping away, leaving him hunched over, sniffling, chills coating his bare arms on the now cold balcony, washed in the light spilling out from the room behind them.

Tam looked him over, nodding to himself--he believed him, that he’d listen for once in his life, though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t like Keefe. “I’ll find wherever their stash of elixirs is and bring them to you--why don’t you sit on the couch, get out of the cold?”

Another tremor ran through him as he finally let Tam’s hand slip from his as the two pushed to their feet in tandem, one much steadier than the other.

And even though their hands didn’t touch, not even the barest of brushes between their fingers, a silent electricity hummed between their bodies, tingling along his skin as they split. Keefe collapsed face first into the couch, groaning, and Tam moved to search the rest of the place in the quiet that followed, haunted by the hollow feeling of skin that hadn’t been touched, but nearly had been.

It didn’t take long for him to find a small, but well-equipped supply of medicinal elixirs, balms, and miscellaneous assortments for small injuries and ailments. He grabbed two he thought would help, shutting the doors behind him as quietly as possible, but they still echoed in the silent place--seriously, where was everyone else?

Had so little time passed that no one else had returned?

He could’ve sworn lifetimes had come and gone on that balcony.

So brief, and yet now the scope of his world had changed, new, undefined tethers drawing him to a certain troublesome boy with no sense of self-preservation or risk sprawled across the entirety of a couch.

Leaning over the back of it, peering down at him, Tam tapped the two vials he held against the back of Keefe’s head, smiling to himself as Keefe swatted half-heartedly at him.

“You already agreed, you don’t get to take it back.”

“I wasn’t going to!” he protested as he shifted to a propped up position, though it had less force than he would’ve expected. “I told you I meant it. I know everyone’s always telling me off for being stubborn, but I don’t always push back. I can make smart decisions.”

He’d believe it when he saw it.

Keefe grabbed the vials, uncorking the first.

Tam blinked as he downed the contents and studiously avoided his gaze. “You’re holding something back.”

Keefe scowled at his matter of fact tone as he downed the second, though his hands shook as he uncorked it. “Fine. Your story about Linh got to me, okay? I don’t want to worry anyone else.”

Of course. He’d never relent for his own sake, only to prevent himself from becoming a burden to others.

Idiot.

Keefe wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, waiting for the elixirs to kick in and for Tam to say something, but he was too busy scanning the room for a blanket, frowning when he came up short. Surely a secret, underground rebel organization trying to fix fundamental problems in their world had enough interior decor sense and time to have decorative blankets somewhere.

Apparently not.

“What are you looking for?”

“A blanket. You’re shivering, but I don’t see any,” he continued, ignoring Keefe’s mouth opening--likely to protest. He always had something to say. Infuriating.

Keefe didn’t like being ignored and rolled his eyes--though he winced with the action, probably aggravating whatever of his headache hadn’t eased yet--and grumbled, “This is ridiculous. I’m not even that cold. What are you even going to do about it without blankets? Share your body heat?”

It took a moment for Keefe to register what he’d just said, but when he did his eyes went wide, mouth snapping shut as he dared a glance at Tam.

He kept his face carefully impassive, but he reached up to tug at his bangs, habit traitorously giving his frazzled state of mind away.

Neither of them spoke for a moment longer--Keefe, because while sick, had the sense to realize he’d given away much more than he’d intended to tonight, and Tam because he had no idea what to do with everything Keefe had given him.

“Careful there, someone might think you actually wanted to be close to me,” Tam deadpanned at last, fingers still in the rough metal, though the joke fell oddly. Like with whatever their new us was, it didn’t fit anymore. Like it was just going through the motions without the venom behind it.

Keefe said nothing, but his gaze flickered, away from Tam’s face--only for a few moments, but long enough for Tam to see him rake it down his body before snapping back, and he could’ve sworn it lingered on his hands.

Tam stopped short, mind going blank. “...do you?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to,” was the answer he got, unable to tell if his flush was from sickness or embarrassment as he refused to meet Tam’s eye.

He gave his bangs one final tug before he dropped his hands, blurting out, “When we couldn’t keep warm in the neutral territories--before we’d learned to regulate our temperatures or when we were too tired--we’d share body heat.”

Keefe’s brow furrowed, looking up at him, uncertainty on his face. “...are you offering--”

“Well if you don’t want to--”

“I didn’t say that! You…you’re warm,” he tacked on at the end, trying to find a suitable explanation, but the hesitation gave him away.

Tam stayed silent for a moment, then, “Sit up.”

“I--huh?”

“I said sit up; you’re taking up the whole couch. Unless you want me to crush you with my body weight, I need space,” he continued, but Keefe was already scrambling to push himself up, freeing up a spot that Tam slid into, breath catching as their arms brushed together.

He’d been close to people before--closer, even, usually with Linh.

But something about Keefe’s arm against his jolted through him, every hair on his body standing on end.

“I’m not going to bite,” he said, amused, watching Keefe sit stunned beside him, rigid as a statue, a cornered animal ready to bolt. “Well, probably not.”

Keefe huffed, something sounding like asshole and fuck it spilling past his lips as he shifted closer, their legs pressing together too now, the static between them building, though neither mentioned it.

Quietly, glancing at him for permission as he did so, Keefe reached out and took Tam’s hand; he felt rather than saw the tremor that rocketed through him at the influx of emotions the touch provided, but Keefe just held on tighter.

Their breaths the only sound, they sat like that, pressed together, until Keefe’s shivers had started to abate.

“How are you so warm?” Keefe mumbled suddenly, starting to melt back into the cushions beside him--whether because he was comfortable or exhausted, Tam couldn’t tell. “You’d think a shadow guy would be freezing.”

“Shadow guy?”

“Shut up. You know what I meant.”

Keefe’s eyes had fallen closed, words slurring, chest moving slow, rhythmic.

Hardly daring to move, Tam watched as Keefe’s muscles gave in to sleep, his head tilting, falling in a slow arc towards him, until Keefe’s cheek was pressed against his shoulder, grip loosening in his hand.

Tam’s breath caught in his throat, but he stayed still--until Keefe started to slip, at just the wrong angle that gravity tried to pull him forward.

Before he could fall further, Tam caught him, grinding his teeth together as he weighed his options.

Gently, he shifted, hardly daring to breath lest he wake Keefe from his much needed nap, and just…adjusted his trajectory slightly.

Instead of falling forward and off the couch, or roughly shoving him back, Tam lowered his head into his lap, hands hovering over the rest of his body uncertainly before he finally let them settle on Keefe’s arm.

A few terse moments later, Keefe gave no sign of stirring, settling into the new position, breaths even--and Tam thought his color had improved too, the elixirs starting to kick in.

There was nothing else to do in the silence that followed but breathe an easy sigh, looking around at the well furnished room--unforgivably devoid of blankets, but otherwise lavish--the steady light, the stable structure, secure in the knowledge that no matter what happened next, he wasn’t--they weren’t--out there still.

That they could get what they needed, and enough of it.

They weren’t the only people looking out for them anymore.

Which brought a different problem to mind: where was everyone else?

Almost as soon as he put thought to the question, something prickled his senses, and the door across the room swung open, Biana bursting in with Linh close behind, breathless.

They stopped short at what they found as Tam tensed, Biana’s mouth falling open and Linh covering a knowing smile with her mouth.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” he hissed, glaring at them, heart pounding.

The glance the two shared and the grins that followed didn’t bode well for him.

But as Keefe shifted in his lap, sleeping peacefully, safely, recovering, skin soft against his own, he couldn’t quite remember why he cared.

#kotlc #kotlc fanfic #kotlc kam #quil's quill #quil's queries #nonsie #look guys I did it! i wrote a fic! #i am putting it out into the world you better be nice with it <3 #also I'm sooo good at titling things <33333 #okay I'll be quiet now enjoy the fic :) #nonsie I hope this satisfies your prompt I kinda created. a whole situation out of it #would've been so much easier if they were already established i don't know why I didn't do that #but hey. love a challenge! #maybe if this isn't enough cuddles I can write a follow up sometime in the future where they're more physically comfortable #i like how I said I'd stop talking and then I didn't #i'l actually stop now. very giddy atm I haven't posted fic in a while this is quite the rush

[qrevo]

remembering that one time i had the entire source code to a uni project revealed to me in a dream. i wish it could happen more often tbh

#qrevo.txt #it was a project about generating rpg-like maps with rocks and obstacles and using recursion to verify if it was ''finishable'' #and one day i went to sleep and dreamt that i was coding the project and somehow got it to work #the first thing i did when waking up was writing down the rough logic of the code and some specific parts of it to not forget #when i arrived at uni that day i just looked at my friend and said ''hey last night i had a dream abt the solution to the project'' #then i started to code it from start to finish in front of him in one sitting to prove i wasn't insane SJHBDKHFSBDF #it was in the second semester so looking back now it wasn't hard. but even still. probably a top10 moments in my life

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent sky photos 

#still... I am not joking.. every time I post things like this it is so hard to narrow them down #I am almost as obsessed with the sky as I am with cats. I have a folder of just cloud pictures with like 650 photos in it right now #I don't post them all because I think it'd seem repetitive probably but just know... lol #that could be an entire blog or something.. hundreds and hundreds... #Like the same way that I cannot explain my obsession with cats or why they've imprinted into my brain so heavily - clouds are the same way #anyway.. .still have the costume photos and stuff like that I just havent edited and posted yet lol.. I will.. hoepfully have actual art #content and stuff thats not just random cat photos sometime soon. I'm just always so preoccupied at the beginning of the year with trying to #adjust to new goals and schedules.. plus.. still wokriong on that wretched little slideshow aaaaaaaaaaaa... it is going to take me... #a million yearbs..... #I just want the worldbuiling lore established so I can branch out and do other things.. aughhhh...... #also have to work on game videos and a few other vidoes.. still trying to keep up wiht the youtube a little.. I just havent been productive #like since new years as I've felt sicker with my stomach symptoms and stuff.. ToT ALSO I DID MAKE THAT ENTIRE interactive fiction game which #I still have no posted anywhere lol.. Because it was kind of to accompany something that I was doing on a game site (like imagine making a g #ame to go along with one of your neopets or something) but it works totally fine as a standalone thing as well like. so detached from the #lore of the game site in general that it'd be broadly understandable and is it's own thing of course (because I dont really like writing #other people's characters/in the confine's of other worlds so I made everything original as possible with just a loose tie in to the neopets #typw thing lol) - but I figured since it works on it's own I could post it publicly other places too like 'hey look I made something' since #that is...... kind of somehting that counts as like... being creatively productive lol? like I keep talking about getting nothing done while #also forgetting about the things I actually HAVE done. alas I continuously forget. Seriously I am so bad at social media. I am never exagger #ating for comedic effect or something. I am the type of person that could legit like. write and produce and direct and complete a movie #that will be million dollars shown in theaters or something and I would forget to mention it anywherte until like 5 months later and go 'oh #uh .. oh yeah.. i should post about that online somehwere probably.. oops' . Cursed with the 'forget about everything once it's complete' #trait. Like the way my brain works is just like. once I finish something I'm immediately like 'cool! onto the next thing!!' without processi #ng what i just did. I'm just always looking forward to the next thing. I'll finish sculptures and then throw them away or forget about them. #I take photos and they sit in the drafts for 6 months before I post them. Like to me the enjoyment comes from the PROCESS of making somehtin #g but I don't care as much about the end result so it just doesnt exist in my brain anymore once I'm done? idk.. anyway ghjbhj #SORRY.. trying to be more active. I want to make and sell sculptures again. sell all of my spare clothes too. stuff. things.. aaa.. ***

[random-autie-fangirl]

The Narrator:

You are in a judgment hall. At the end of this hall is the great door. Behind that door is a royal garden. In that garden is a golden throne, and tied to that throne is a prince. You are here to slay him, if you refuse…it shall be the end of the world.

#undertale #slay the princess #Hi! #I mean...I do have more for this #but it's like do I post a bunch of ideas and headcanons here #or do I finish one route #or at least chapter 1 first #...the voices in Frisk's head receive different names and sometimes different personalities #Asriel's perspectives/memories don't as much #mainly because similarities between some of the princesses and facets of Asriel's character are how I got here #Hey look! I did a thing #Feel free to ask questions though #I wanna talk about this au #But I also wanna write it properly...ugh #one thing is for sure #It probably needs a more creative name than slay the prince #the flower prince #Here's what I'm calling it now #chara dreemurr