read me. this is an order from your superior (revamped²)
>>> click here for a random day <<<
>>> AND NOW ON AO3 <<<
hi! hello! g'day! :D
So, what's the deal?
Simple, I will write and post daily on the same day. It will mostly be Hermitcraft and Life Series, with the odd reference to Empires and other series
I will try to not make them interconnected, but some will be, and I will link back to respective days
I will give myself a minimum of 5 minutes and a maximum of 60 minutes per work (not a strict rule) to write something; so the quality may vary
Index:
📧 - asks
🎨 - inspired by art
🔞 - nsfw
-> 'Content Warnings' and 'Trigger Warnings' will also be on the "Content" section, and will not be tagged. Execute your right to ignore content you do not wish to see
#ficless - personal rambles
Request rules:
- Specify romantic, platonic or qpr if you want. If you do not specify, I will decide for myself
-> Additionally: If you give a ship/duo name, I will go with the most common interpretation of it
- Feel free to be as detailed as you want with your request, but beware that I might not follow to the letter and may take liberties
-> Additionally: I reserve the right to answer and not. It's not personal; and no, I will not provide a boundaries list, I will simply ignore/delete
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
burnout and creative block is not real and it can't hurt me because i say so
Characters - Ren/False
Words - 253
Time - 15 mins
Content - Royalty AU
False inhales until her shoulders touch her neck, then exhales hard, the tension heavy on her shoulders. There is a wash of warmth over then, lasting a second before it cools, which makes her coats, her armor—anything that will cover her limbs, or protect her, or…
Well, anything but a ballgown, she supposes.
The hoop-skirt drags as she walks around, a stiffness to her motions unlike the other ladies around. They look graceful, effortless, nothing she could realistically compare to. Whereas they are made of hand-woven silks and shiny jewelry, False is made of bumped metals and chipped swords.
Still, she makes her way across the waxed floors, so bright compared to her earth-tone colored gown.
“Lady.”
False straightens, turning her head, smile delicate on her lips. Her eyes widen, then soften as they trace down to an extended hand, her own landing on top easily. Fingers grasp hers, carefully, guiding her to the dance floor.
“Evening,” she smiles, stepping into their space. Her skirt cushions into them; they take a step into her space. “Ren.”
He chuckles, a hand on her waist, the other propping hers up.
“False.”
The music plays around them, their steps following note by note, swirling and spinning with laughs between them. Though False has always walked in different shoes, on too clean floors, Ren is right there to guide her, lead her with the confidence of seeing the sun on her face.
Still, Ren steps on her skirt when the song ends, False leans into his space.
_____
[click for a random day]
why is renfalse always about royalty aus? idk. it's a vibe, their biggest vibe. sue me
Characters - Cleo/Lizzie
Words - 387
Time - 15 mins
Content - Fantasy AU
There aren’t many rules they are meant to follow; but surely one of them has to be “don’t follow the pink-haired girl who is not wearing shoes into the forest”. Oddly specific, sure, but Cleo stands in place, staring down the natural corridor of trees and canopies, the pink-haired girl still smiling, waving them over, dancing and twirling gracefully on the grass shoeless.
Despite the mud and the grass blades, Cleo is all too aware that her feet remain clean. Pale, sun-kissed with freckles that follow up her legs into her pale blue dress. She spins, giggling sweetly as her hair catches on her shoulders, flashing them a wide smile and another wave.
“Uh, I don’t quite think so, miss,” Cleo states firmly, frowning as her hand rounds the end of her ax. It’s not much, worn from chopping wood, but it’s still deathly enough to cause deep injuries.
The trees can vouch for it, at least.
The girl tilts her head, and petal pink waterfalls of hair rain down, which she tucks back behind her ear tenderly. Cleo almost lets go of her weapon, ready to turn heel and speed-walk away, content with keeping their lives within their body rather than satiating that gnawing curiosity.
“If you have business with me, you will have to come here.”
Their voice echoes into the forest loudly, near booming. It zaps nature of its breeze and its chirping birds, they hold their breath too with hesitation.
“Much too weary,” the girl sing-songs, but it sounds loud as if she were standing right in front of them. She smiles, striking blue eyes against soft, pink dusted cheeks and pale pink hair. “You are no fun.”
“Uh-huh, too bad.”
“Nope, don’t think so.”
And leisurely, the girl makes her way over, right hand outstretched, brushing every trunk and every leaf, her fingertips gliding elegantly as she puts on foot in front of the other, sinking into the mud but coming off clean. A vine catches around her fingers, snapping from the bush and climbing her arm. Thin tendrils, sprouting small orange flowers and leaves.
A couple steps, still with safety distance, she stops as Cleo brings their palm back on the end of her ax.
Regardless, the smile remains on her lips when she speaks, “A pleasure to meet you, Cleo.”
Characters - Gem/Pearl
Words - 519
Time - 30 mins
Content - College AU | Crush at first sight
It’s late when Gem returns home, still hugging her notebooks as her bag kills her shoulders, the three books she needs from the library. She thinks about her essay, then sighs when she thinks about it for too long. That’s the whole weekend blocked out to finish it, then it’s heading straight to her next assignment plus some discussions to fill in, some quizzes and a, hopefully, quick video-call with some classmates to discuss something—the topic will come to her when she’s ready to sleep, almost slipping off, she knows.
All in all, a busy weekend.
She sighs, letting her hand drop to her side, her notebooks pressing against her hip. Her other hand fixes her shoulder trap then lands on the handrails of the stairs, taking a single step on metal before stopping suddenly, her eyes focusing abruptly.
The image blurs then focuses, a girl sitting a couple steps up, staring at her with wide, curious eyes. Her sharp features soften into a grin as she brings her legs up a step under where she sits, hugging them close to her chest as strands of hair fall in front of her face.
Gem recognizes her, blurrily.
“Hi,” the girl greets, cheerily like it isn’t nearly midnight. Bright, like the quarter moon above them. Gem notices her shorts, the thin-looking jacket around her with her hood up, and some beat up sneakers. “Late night?”
The girl tilts her head a little, to look at Gem better, and when she brushes her hair back, Gem can see the stars in her eyes. She always thought that is a thing of movies and books, sometimes Joel likes to bring up on his hopeless romantic moments, but she is breathless, and hopeless, and it feels like the world is lighter though she is shaking from the cold.
Gem chuckles, hopes she didn’t wait too long to make it awkward, and smiles.
“Got an essay due.”
“Aww,” the girl pouts, sad on her behalf but looking adorable in Gem’s eyes, “that’s not very fair. Are you done now, then?”
Gem shakes her head. She squeezes the handrail, the metal digging back into her palm, and she slowly retreats her foot, lowering a step to look up at the mystery girl. She breathes out a small cloud, her glasses fogging up slightly.
The girl laughs, resting her chin on her knee, back to hugging her legs.
“I shouldn’t keep you up much longer, huh,” she says softly, her breath touching her lips and how jealous Gem gets over it. She scoots to the side, looking at Gem almost adoringly, or playfully. Curiously, like the very moon watching their exchange. “G’night!”
Gem catches the word in her heart, her smile in her mind. And she makes her way up the rickety stairs, passing by mystery girl, and atop them, her hand on the cold handrail, she looks down to see her looking up at the dark sky.
The moonlight and the stars stream down gently, touch her face so tenderly.
Just another thing to be jealous of—just another thing to take space in her mind.
_____
[click for a random day]
i debated gem & joel roommates, or mounders roommates, and decided neither so you just get a random joel name drop
fun fact, this ask was sent on sept 21, 2024
_____
📧 Day 131 -
Characters - Martyn/Scott
Words - 424
Time - 15 mins
Content - Limited Life
When Scott breaks the surface of the water, he finds Martyn watching over him. Waiting, a peculiar look in his eyes—almost like it’s meant for someone else, Scott knows a little about that, but no point dwelling on it short term. He pushes himself up onto their base, the puddle of water growing under him as the sun sets orange all around them. Martyn, still fixed on his being, stands still, weapon trusty by his hip. Scott runs a webbed hand through his wet hair, fixing it somewhat before giving him a playful wink.
“Missed me much?”
He asks casually, teasingly. Martyn has this quirk, he’s noticed, too protective of him. Although he appreciates it, he still finds it suffocating and overbearing, though he makes no mention of it—the pros outweigh the cons, after all, and what’s the big deal, everyone wants to feel wanted after all.
Still, Martyn says nothing as he walks by, step by step, swaying his hips as the evening breeze touches his wet skin. He sighs, raising a hand to vaguely gesture with his speech, the words dying on his tongue when a calloused hand wraps around his wrist, brushing onto his rough skin.
They stand at a stand-still for a second, the breeze swaying strands of hair, cooling their clothes into their skin. It’s warm, where Martyn holds him, oddly comforting in a death game. He feels his pulse, tick tick like the seconds, limited in their breaths and heartbeats. Slowly, he breathes out in tandem with another's heart, reassurance of their lives.
“Can’t stand having me out of your sight?” Scott says, playfully as he turns his head back, looking at his teammate over his shoulder. Martyn stares back, neutral in his stance, though there’s a storm behind his eyes, clouding his demeanor. His lips ease into a smile as spins on his heels, rolling his head back slightly, tilting it to the side in amusement. “What a dear.”
“It’s late,” finally, Martyn says.
Two words, cutting through the air easily. Not quite strained, but not as smooth as Scott’s voice. Heavy with worry, indefinite. Evident. It brings a different kind of smile to Scott’s lips, his very being overflowing with a too familiar feeling.
“They could’ve hurt you,” Martyn continues, fingers digging into his wrist, brow twisted into an angry brood, “and I wouldn’t have been able to protect you. To save you. It’s late, Scott. We agreed.”
Scott only smiles, easy, speaks carelessness between them, “Oh, what a dear, truly. You’re to die for, Martyn.”
_____
[click for a random day]
am i allowed to celebrate 2 days in a row. i feel like i should
Would it be wrong to ask for Freaky. smalletho. I MISS THEM SO Bad i miss them☹️😞 Go wild. Because this is all i could think of i sorry
i dont know what freaky means. freaky as in freaky or freaky as in sexy. they ended up being cuties, if you don't count the almost murder!
_____
📧 Day 130 -
Characters - Etho/Joel
Words - 1,698
Time - 75 mins
Content - Hermitcraft | Mentions of Blood | Almost drowning
Despite now having a bathhouse, when the day gets too hot, Joel can’t help flying down near the torii gates where the bits of nature are inviting and cool. The shade under trees, the cool breeze, the always warm rocks. Today, like other days, he lands on the swaying grass, shrugging his elytra before they even get the chance to fold. They fall onto the grass with a soft thud, then he kicks his boots off, followed by his socks.
With the constant building and the burning sun, Joel almost misses wearing the intricate Japanese clothing. Though he’s gotten used to the movements, he still cringes when he gets them dirty, so he’s resorted back to simple clothes again. Brown cargo pants and a simple, white shirt that sticks to his body from the sweat.
His right hand crosses over his stomach, grabbing the hem of his shirt to lift it as his left hand works on the zipper of his pants. Shirt gone before pushing his pants off, and he decides to stay in his boxers as he steps into the cold water of the pond. He walks in until the water touches his calves, tossing all the jewelry and accessories into a spread pile.
Although his body aches, it’s a pain that feels so good in his bones, the kind that clings to his joints and makes them whine when he stretches. He walks further in, arching his back as he throws his hands into the air, his body creaking delightfully with a groan from deep within his throat.
Then, carelessly, he lets himself fall backwards onto the water with a loud splash. He slaps the water’s surface with his back, sinking into the cold body of water, bubbles quickly escaping from his mouth and nose and the bright, clear skies blur with ripples of crystal water.
Joel shivers as he sinks, floating down peacefully. And slowly, the fluffy ears atop his head and tail flickering under him morph into different traits. The ears melt into his head, a set of fins fanning out where human ears would be. His tail minimizes into his spine as he brings his legs together, the skin melting together as his bones rearrange, reform. Calloused hands thin out as his fingers sharpen, ending in deadly claws, scales sprouting along his arms and and back of his shoulders and down his hips, bigger scales making the shape of his new tail. Bubbles and ripples appear as he swirls, silk-like fins dragging the water around him. The skin on his arm lifts, thin and like fabrics onto water.
Playfully, as he gasps into his new environment and the gills on either side of his neck catch the air bubbles, he runs his tongue along his wet lips, the edge of it brushing against the sharp row of teeth. His lips quirk into a smirk, almost tasting the metal that had dried on his mouth earlier.
Though the pond is not particularly deep or big, he makes his way around it, through the rivers, like the current caressing his body, he fights it as much as he follows it, patiently and curious. He submerges his head under water deep, raking webbed hands through the dirt below before swimming up, letting the outside breeze and hot sun touch his face. Droplets rain from his hair, and he looks around to find himself back at the start.
Where his pile of clothes awaits, another stands. Tough boots and long legs, his eyes trace up to the off-center stance, all too familiar clothes. The coat held open by two hands hooked on the front pockets of the pants. Up the torse, shirt tight like second skin, until he finds the mask and an amused look into those cold yet curious mismatched eyes.
Joel smirks, pretty lips as he swims back, laying back on the water carefree, nonchalantly showing off his new tail. “What’s up, Eefo?”
One of Etho’s fox ears flicks, Joel’s noticed it always does when he talks to him. He knows what it means, immediate voice recognition and attention. But Etho only tilts his head up slightly, eyes to the clear sky, Joel’s eyes zeroing on his exposed neck for a fleeting moment before Etho looks back, head tilted to the side now.
“It’s hot.”
Joel giggles, flashing those sharp teeth briefly. Etho notices them, hard to hide anything from the details-obsessed-redstoner. Joel plays dumb, swaying his head side to side as he swims back, waving his arms in the water in front of him, creating ripples around him.
“You could join,” he replies simply, no strings attached or obligation, though his predatory eyes and smirk say otherwise, “the water is nice.”
Maybe it was Etho’s plan all along, maybe it is unbearably hot, but it takes no more convincing before Etho is lifting the flaps of his coat off his shoulders, letting it slide off his arms onto the grass below him. And shamelessly, Joel watches the show in front of him, quiet as Etho undresses layer by layer.
Etho pulls his turtleneck free from his pants, cross-armed, lifting it over his head, letting it go easily as his muscles flex and relax, probably showing off to his audience. Joel can only grin, running his tongue along his lips as if savoring for a meal. In the meantime, Etho’s gloves are gone and the laces of his boots undone, kicked off carelessly. Etho hooks his thumbs on the loops of his pants, pulling at them to let them slide off, then he kicks them off and bends down to take his socks off.
Until Etho, like Joel earlier, is left in just his underwear.
Slow steps, a predator approaching prey, Etho stalks to the shore, dipping one foot to test the water. His tail sways lazily behind him, ears flicking at the distant chirps of birds and machinery. If they focus, they could probably hear the mailbox area buzzing quietly.
But Etho joins the water, breaking the peace slowly. Joel stills in place, watching as Etho submerges until the water line is around his hips. It could go a little further down, Joel knows, but it would mean getting closer to him. Joel flashes an innocent smirk, though the thought is very present in both of their heads. Etho stands tall, inhaling deep as his arms crossed behind his head, exhaling deep out of his mouth. The sunlight catches on his sharp canines, nothing compared to Joel’s rows.
“Don’t look like a fish out of water,” Joel sing-songs as he flaps himself back, splashing Etho. He grins as water rains down his chest, Etho running a hand through his hair.
Etho only rolls his eyes, but stays in place.
Joel swims around the pond, marking three quarters of it for himself while Etho stays in his space, dipping down occasionally but mostly retreating to the shore to sit with his feet on the water.
Joel swims closer and closer, rounding into Etho’s space comfortably. His fins touched by bubbles, grazing Etho’s legs when he gets too close. And Etho should know, should see it coming, but Joel still grabs his ankle and pulls him into the water fast and sudden, a splash breaking their peace with a shriek from Etho’s mouth.
He laughs loudly as Etho thrashes, fighting for air as he intentionally drags him around the bottom of the pond, delighted until a hand tangles on his fins, sharp nails digging into his arm. He hisses but Etho finds footing, twisting his arm and forcing him to stop, Joel instinctively chasing for a fight.
His tail wraps around Etho, nails raking on sensitive fins and skin, and Joel retaliates by sinking his teeth into the nearest muscle he can find. Etho’s forearm, deep as wisps of blood string out. He can taste the metal on his tongue, driving his predator senses, his hunger.
Etho fights, hitting the side of his head with the heel of his palm, enough to shake him off. He coughs a big bubble, frowning as he swims up, breaking the surface of the water, panting for air for his burning lungs. He heaves, wiping his face harshly, barely getting his head straight before being yanked back, splashing forward.
This time, Etho had the chance to suck a breath in, puffing up his cheeks before meeting Joel underwater. The bubbles blind him momentarily, eventually clearing out to a sort of peacefulness, him hovering over Joel.
And of course, Joel, like always, grinning victoriously.
In the situation, Etho says nothing but gives a frown in response.
“Don’t look so mad,” Joel grins, wrapping his arms around Etho’s sides, slowly floating along with the occasional tail flip. “You love me.”
Etho rolls his eyes.
“You love me,” Joel repeats, pushing up slightly so their chests bump. He holds Etho down as much as he helps him float, receiving yet another eye roll. He bumps their noses together, and Etho softens to the small touch, enough to not pull away when Joel pushes up for a kiss.
Their lips meet easily, tender ones against rougher ones. Still soft, still gentle. Joel steals Etho’s air while keeping him breathing, smiling into the kiss as Etho holds onto him, the back of his neck and his hip.
Etho teases the line where skin meets scales with his nails, Joel shuddering and arching into him, so he bites his tongue and pierces his bottom lip. A trail of blood dissipates between them, Joel’s sharp eyes to Etho’s bothered ones.
Without a sign, Etho pulls away and swims up, and Joel chases like a puppy, letting him breathe. Etho swims to shore, pulling himself up as he wheezes, propped back onto his elbows to let the head spins leave. Joel swims in circles in front of him, then flips his tail, splashing water high before dipping to resurface high up between Etho’s legs, arms falling on either side of his thighs. He grins, Etho’s heaves against his face.
“You’re no fun, Eefo,” Joel whines.
However, when he leans forward, Etho still meets him halfway for another kiss. A smile against a smile, playful against fond defeat.
This made me giggle (in a good way, don't worry). And I wouldn't necessarily call it burn-out, not by my standards, but sure, it could be! I'm currently in a weird transition period, and I'm just waiting for things to settle before I set a new schedule for myself. Honestly, I don't want to yap much about my personal life in this account, because that's not the gimmick, and I don't really think anyone cares nor should care. I don't know if you're expecting an explanation or an update, and I'm not sure I can give or care to give either
I've been inconsistent, yes. Life happens. I'm still around. I'll be back; at my pace o7
Any pairing platonic or romantic any au type it just has to start with
"Well this is new..."
i think this fits...?
_____
📧 Day 129 -
Characters - Jimmy/Tango
Words - 297
Time - 15 mins
Content - Vampire AU
“Aren’t you tired?”
Tango jumps with a gargled shriek, bottles and maps flying up before they crash down at his feet, the liquids mixing up onto the previous dry floor.
With a thundering heart, he spins to the owner of the words, ears ringing as he catches red eyes staring back. Slowly, a silhouette approaches him from the shadows into the light, the air around him freezing and cutting, stealing the air from his lungs.
“You look tired,” they say, and even though their lips parted little, Tango clearly saw the fangs. The pale skin, dusty under the flickers of the candle light. Still, they get closer and closer, those red eyes glowing until they soften to a soft blue. Alluring and captivating. “Rest,” they say softly, their voice brushing Tango’s jaw somehow, “you should rest.”
Although his lips part, no words come out of Tango’s mouth. However, he notices their eyes flicker down, flashing a rapid red before flickering back up, staring right into his eyes. He tries to string a line of words, even a small sentence but nothing comes out, cold with a blank mind.
The stranger steps into his space, a cold hand landing on Tango’s otherwise warm cheek, a touch so light he feels like he is imagining it. He sucks a breath, breathing in icy air that shakes him from inside.
He watches those eyes.
Icy blues, flashing red when a cold digit touches his bottom lip, running the line of it gently. They tug it lightly, enough that his lips part again, reds fixated on them even though his mind remains blank.
Filled with one word, just one word.
“...Rest?”
They smile, showing those fangs again, sending his heart into another drumming mess. And Tango fails to catch himself falling.
Toxic yaoi scarian set in double life for the soul mayhaps? (i love your writing sm 🫶)
i can try!
_____
📧 Day 128 -
Characters - Scar/Grian
Words - 293
Time - 15 mins
Content - Double Life | Cheating Implied + Toxic Relationship
When Grian finally made his way home—no, not home, anything but home, home as he knew it was elsewhere, in someone else’s arms, this was just a base, somewhere to sleep at night and somewhere to hide when he needed to—he did by dragging his talons across the floors. The jellie-pandas outside were driving him insane, and the quiet heartbeat under his was maddening. Echoes. He wanted to suffocate it with a pillow.
There was nothing sacred about this. Nothing destined about someone else’s vitals invading his body like this—his heart, his soul, his mind.
But the other was asleep.
Body too small in a double bed. Too peaceful, too quiet.
Grian’s anger almost felt unwarranted.
The jellie-pandas roamed outside, the wind howled outside, and like a dry cake, it all crumbled in his hands.
He closed his eyes and saw a blue sweater. He saw a suit. He saw grey skin, basked in the unforgiving sun of the desert, his knuckles bloodied red, and an overwhelming grief washed over him.
Grian opened his eyes to the darkness. To a quiet base. Base. It was late, and he was probably the only soul awake. He hoped BigB had gone to sleep already, he hoped BigB had a good rest, and he hoped to see his eyes in the morning. His eyes.
Still, Grian dragged his talons across the floors, wings tucked behind his back, tight and tense. Cursed to never rest. His hand landed on the edge of the bed, his back against the side of it as he slid down, the cold floor welcoming his equal coldness and indifference.
His wings unfolded and cocooned him, cursing the empty spot on the bed beside the one who was meant to be his soulmate.
Characters - Skizz + Joel ft. Tango, Jimmy & Gem
Words - 1,148
Time - 45 mins
Content - Diner AU
It’s late night by then, and all Skizz can think about is closing up shop and hitting the hay for the next decade. He can hear the dying sizzles and the clanking pans, and outside, the diner is quiet aside from the radio and the game replays. He throws a towel over his shoulder, piling up some pans and throwing some utensils into the water, in time for the back door to swing open with a loud yawn.
He turns to see Tango walking in, the same exhaustion down his face.
Shortly after, Jimmy walks over, leaning into the kitchen window with a droopy smile and equally tired eyes.
“Day’s over,” Jimmy yawns, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm before straightening and stretching. He pats the counter, giving them the nod to start cleaning up. Not that they need to be told twice, seeing as the place is empty and the clock is dangerously close to two in the morning.
They fall into a classic rhythm, turning up the radio to motivate themselves into staying awake. Their singing is off-key and sharp, playing up to stay aware, laughing. Soon enough, Jimmy joins them, shaking his head with a sigh, grabbing a rag to wipe down counters as Tango washed the dishes and Skizz cleaned up the stove.
After refilling their immediate fridge, Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, kicking the empty box against the fridge. When he speaks, they can all tell he’s fighting off another yawn, “Oh, also, there’s like, a guy still outside. Guy and girl, I should say.”
Tango raises a brow, looking at him over his shoulder. His lips quirked into a smirk. “What? Trouble-makers?”
Jimmy shakes his head.
“A’ight, a’ight, no fighting,” Skizz jumps in, waving his hand. “I’ll tell ‘em to get off our property—”
“And clean the toilets,” Tango adds quickly, giggling.
Jimmy stifles a laugh behind his fist, giving Skizz an innocent shrug.
“And clean the toilets,” Skizz sighs, shoulders dropping.
Skizz tosses the towel against Tango’s shoulder, his laughter echoing as he leaves the kitchen through the swinging doors. The dining area is empty, though it doesn’t take long to find the pair, easily following their giggles and chatter. Tucked in the furthest booth, both of them hunkered down onto the table, giggling like children with a chocolate milkshake and a strawberry milkshake half-drank.
“A’ight, buds, start headin’ to the door soon.”
The pair looked up at him, nestled in their crossed arms, like they didn’t hear what he said. Despite looking down at them, Skizz felt like he is under them, being watched and examined. He clears his throat, trying again to get an authoritarian air to his person.
“We are closing in twenty minutes. And if you don’t want to be locked in, I suggest you grab your milkshakes and head out now.”
The girl of the pair tucks orange curls behind her ear, whispering like he isn’t standing in front of them, “Whaddya think?”
“Bossy,” the guy with brown hair replies. The girl nods, curling onto her arm a little more. “And beefy.”
“You are so gay,” she scolds in a monotone voice, and Skizz swears they are blinking at the same time. Something about them makes his skin crawl, but he stays in place as they do. “So very gay, Joel.”
“Shuddup.”
The guy, Joel, hisses which makes the girl break into a couple giggles. She closes her eyes, sighing as she drags herself up, sliding off the seat onto her feet. Though he tries to not look, he notices the black books and ripped jeans, some jacket tied at her waist and a white singlet.
“Heading to the toilet, be right back,” she hums, tapping her fingers on the table as Joel faceplants on it, groaning before dragging himself up too. She hops on her way, stopping just a step from Skizz, and looks up at him with a wide smile. “The burger was very good, by the way. The milkshakes, though, are way too sweet.”
Skizz watches her shadow leave, stunned into silence before looking back at the table, only to see Joel half-sitting up, mostly perched on his arm. His cheek was full on the heel of his palm, brown eyes staring right at him.
“I’m not gay,” Joel offers unprompted, which makes Skizz drop his mouth without words. “She is, though,” he continues, tilting his head into his hand a little more, “bi, or whatever. Swings both ways.”
“I—” He manages finally, flustered at his pathetic attempt.
Joel chuckles, amused. Then he pulls himself out of the booth, grabbing his milkshake glass by the rim, dragging it along to the edge of the table. He slides himself on the edge too, leaning against it nonchalantly, rolling the glass by the base, head tilted slightly.
And then, Skizz notices the mirror outfit on him from her.
He sucks a breath in, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side before breathing out. And Joel watches meanwhile, entertained with his hesitation.
“I don’t care,” he manages to say eventually, which drives no reaction from Joel. Not quite indifference, but there is a distinct lack of reaction from him. He sighs, shaking his head as he rubs the back of his neck. “Look, you two, I don’t particularly care who you are. New faces, I know. Whatever you’re here to do, don’t make trouble, a’ight?”
Joel chuckles, resting the apple of his cheek on his shoulder, eyes closed and a small grin on his lips. He looks peaceful, almost charming like this. No biting words or attitude, rather approachable, even cute.
Huh.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on yous,” he adds in, trying to sound threatening but his voice cracks. And Joel peeks an eye open, curious. “Yeah! Small town, we in everyone’s business so I will hear if yous cause trouble.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Joel hums, bringing the milkshake to his lips. He catches the straw with his tongue, holding his gaze as his lips wrap around it, taking a long sip before resting it on his knee, giving way to watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down with a gulp. Skizz subconsciously copies, his lips dry and his tongue heavy. “We’ll be outta your hair soon.”
Joel’s eyes flicker behind his shoulder, and the footsteps follow shortly after. Joel places the glass back on the table, pushing himself onto his feet with a playful smile, like the tense air between them didn’t exist.
“Well then,” Gem chirps with a clap, and Joel walks around Skizz to the door, and he follows them to keep to his word. “Did ya get his number?” She laughs, and Joel pushes her shoulder out.
Joel follows behind her, looking behind his shoulder, flashing Skizz a quick wink and a smile before letting the door close, the bell cutting the interaction.
Can you do established relationship college au gribeans? some fluff if thats okay ? Im always searching for more gribeans to consume & theres never quite nearly enough lol 🙏🙏
can we write it? yes we can!
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📧 Day 126 -
Characters - Grian/Joel
Words - 588
Time - 21 mins
Content - College AU | Hungover Grian
Grian woke up with a killer hangover and bags under his eyes, drawn to the sounds of cluttering and the familiar hum of the oven. He rubbed his eyes as he made his way out of his room, stumbling in the darkness towards the kitchen.
If he’d been more aware, he would have noticed the slightly ajar door of his flatmate. But it was dark and he was miserable and the sudden dryness in his throat demanded water.
So it was water.
Stepping into the light was headache inducing, though his nostrils were overwhelmed with the smell of chocolate and oats. Sweetness and heat swirled around him, clouding his mind until he walked hip first into the kitchen island, blinking down at it like it had just materialized.
Grian winced, doubling over onto the island with a loud groan. The laminate was cool on his forehead, offering some relief to his pounding head, almost enough to shut his system and fall asleep.
That was, if Grian was lucky, which he was not.
“Psst, hey, Grian, whatcha doing?”
Too harshly, he flipped his head up, vision blurred until it focused on the bench. Just on the other end, barely peeking, two brown eyes stared at him with flour dirtied brown curls.
The green looked fainted, and he tried to make a mental note to mention it when he wasn’t so out of it.
Joel raised a little more, hands on either side of his face, blinking expectantly at him. Grian wanted to slap him, run his hand down his cute face and possibly drag him back to sleep. Cuddling with Joel was always the best remedy for hangovers, being around him was just generally the best thing.
He chuckled, and Joel tilted his head.
“Did I wake you?” Joel asked in a hushed tone, the worry too evident to ignore. Grian only chuckled again, smiling loop-sidedly.
“What—hic—cha makin’?” He slurred eventually, much to Joel’s squinted suspicion. He could taste the cheap beer on his tongue, and he could almost imagine the sweet taste of Joel’s lips.
Slowly, Joel rose up, looking down at Grian curiously. Then he rested his forearms on the bench, leaning on them, tilting his head in the other direction. Grian could only look at him, mesmerized and giddy, thrilled to be Joel’s center of attention.
The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence with only soft humming, but only briefly because Joel never could live in silence.
Grian liked that about him.
“Just cookies,” Joel whispered, leaning down close enough that he would definitely be able to smell the alcohol. Despite turning his nose up, Joel stayed there, far too close for Grian’s excited heart. And when he crossed the last distance, Grian closed his eyes, awaiting the tender kiss. “Go to bed,” he mouthed into his still too eager lips, smiling, “I’m almost done.”
With a pout and another kiss, Grian sighed, dragging his body back to his feet. In the meantime, Joel disappeared, returning briefly with a glass of water that he took without a fuss. After a gulp, and their hands touching when he returned the glass, he stumbled back to bed.
Not quite his room, as his mind blanked with directions. Instead, he raised his hand and slid it down a door, pushing it open weakly so he could stumble in. Shaky step after shaky step, Grian plopped onto the bed, inhaling another’s cologne.
Lovestruck, face half buried into the pillow, Grian fell asleep surrounded by the familiar feel of Joel’s bed.
Characters - Etho/Joel
Words - 347
Time - 15 mins
Content -
“You’re so short.”
Joel growls, doing his best to not push Etho onto the street. He wants to do so, so badly. Etho reeks of cheap bear and his clothes are damp, drunkenly draped over his side and clinging like a bad hangover.
“Why so short? Hm, Joel?” Etho continues, hiccups cutting into his slurred words. He giggles, pressing his face into Joel’s neck, dragging him back slightly. He smiles when Joel groans, but he’s fixed on Joel’s warmth, and how very huggable he is. “‘S good—hic—for, hug. Hm, good.”
“Bloomin’ die,” Joel hisses, planting his feet down. Despite his attempts to shake him off, Etho’s arms are like slippery noodles, slipping then wrapping around him mindlessly.
“Aww, don’ be sad.”
Etho giggles, nuzzling into his neck, and Joel has had enough. He shoves Etho’s chest hard, the night breeze sliding between them quickly, freezing the spot where their bodies touched. In his drunken state, Etho tumbles down with a graceless fall, Joel realizing at the last second what he had done but only able to watch his feet lift from the ground.
“Shit– Etho! I didn’t—”
Still, Etho only bursts out laughing, arms wrapped on his stomach.
“Eefo! Don’t laugh!”
Joel rushes over, kneeling in front of him to fuss. He tries to check him but Etho laughs out of his grasp. Even drunk, Etho is sneaky, grabbing Joel’s wrist to yank him into his chest, quickly hugging him.
Joel squeals, squirms but he fails to get out Etho’s grasp, flustered when Etho’s laugh cools, turning into soft hums that lull him into a false sense of security. All Joel wants is to go home and sleep, but all he got was a face full of Etho’s chest, both on the pavement in the middle of the night, nowhere near home.
“I hate you,” Joel grits through his teeth, even when Etho grabs his chin to make him look up. Etho looks down at him with a goofy, smitten look and Joel will ever mean those words.
“Love you,” Etho whispers into his lips, kissing him.
Characters - Tango/Joel
Words - 351
Time - 15 mins
Content - Pseudo-Life Game
Tango’s legs give out from under him, his world collapsing with him as he gasps for air, his lungs tight with smoke and soot. His hand tightens on the handle of his sword, pushing the splinters into blackened palms. The world spins without him, a darkness welcoming him.
Flaming blood courses from his fingertips through his veins, burning every inch of him with the bitter taste of death on his tongue. There is iron and rotten flesh on this tongue, in the air, staining the very world they claw to survive in.
Dirt under his fingernails, poison in his clothes.
Eventually the world cools around him, stealing every ounce of heat from his body. Too closely, somewhere in the depths of his mind and soul, a voice calls him and urges him for more, for bloodshed.
Hungry. Raging.
He drags his sword closer, cutting through the blades of grass as the breeze caresses his face. It lulls him, gently coaxing him to stand up, to find his next victim, to look at the traitors and plunge his sword in their hearts. Relentless, vengeance, anything to shut the rage.
Embers fly, subtle warmth teasing his jaw.
Tango opens his eyes to the falling sun, a world covered in oranges that look too close to fire. His chest rises and falls, the word dry on his tongue.
Joel stands in front of him, his clothes stained in crimson and his trusty ax dragged behind him. His breathing is laborious, his eyes tired.
His footsteps are muffled into the grass, his breathing deafened by the whistling wind of the incoming night. Tango does nothing to stop the fellow red name from getting closer, their weapons useless by their sides.
Without warning, Joel drops by his side, their shoulders colliding as the world shakes again. He breathes out heavily, yet drops his head on Tango’s shoulder, a familiar heat shared between them.
“I’ve nowhere to go,” Joel whispers, and Tango knows. He had seen the bases burn, the air filled with gunpowder, more bodies struck down.
Tango laughs, the cuts and bruises finally aching. “Same.”
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they will team up next series. trust. i can see the future
Characters - Scar/Joel
Words - 627
Time - 45 mins
Content - Vampire AU
“My, my, what have we here?”
Joel jumped on the spot, snapping towards the voice. A smooth voice broke through the pouring rain, lulling the pitter-patter on the walls and windows. Brief as it was, it echoed its amusement instead of the aggression he was expecting. His eyes darted in the darkness, jumping to every patch lit up by the lighting, holding his breath when he saw nothing.
His hand tightened on the handle of his knife, slowly taking a step back.
“Don’t be a stranger!”
Joel jumped again, snapping to the voice but a second too late, groaning when his back hit the wall. A forearm pressed down on his collarbone, holding him in place as his head spun.
Lighting hit as his knife bounced on wooden floors.
Forcefully, he straightened up, pushing against the cold wall for space. His eyes re-focused, a shadowed face in front of him with glowing red eyes that stared right into his soul. His heaving and pounding heart drowned the pouring rain, his breathing bouncing back onto his face with a cooler touch.
Finally, he froze when his eyes landed on wet lips. Sharp fangs that showed themselves through the smile, teasingly threatening.
“What a wonderful coincidence,” it chirped, sending shivers down Joel’s spine. The being crowded him closer, running its nose along his jawline, half its smiles pressed into flushed skin. “I was just thinking, you will never guess, about how hungry I am. And who would’ve guessed it? My dinner walks right into my house! How considerate, little rabbit.”
Joel let out a stuttering gasp when a fang lightly pressed onto the side of his neck, applying a dizzying pressure onto tender muscle. He dug his nails into his palm, screwing his eyes shut as it breathed along his neck, a loud inhale that relaxed into an even louder sigh down his shoulder.
With small movements, Joel inched his hand closer to his pocket, carefully sliding it inside. Trembling fingers curled around another handle, his index pressed on the flat side of his knife.
“Scared?” It asked, more teasingly than mockery. Its body was cold against his front, sturdy as Joel lifted his other hand. Joel pulled at the side of his shirt, holding his breath when he heard it chirp, delighted at the sight of exposed skin. “Oh? A willing participant?”
Joel let his lips part, slowly opening his eyes to face the red ones. He breathed out as his shoulders relaxed, guiding his left hand onto its shoulder, snaking it behind its neck to hold them in place.
An involuntary whine escaped his lips when a too-cold tongue licked the space between his neck and shoulder, breathing its cold breath onto the wet path with a smirk on its lips. He closed his eyes again, preparing himself mentally for the sting and the mind-numbing delirium of losing blood.
The words dried on his tongue, suffocated by the overwhelming feeling of being a prey. Caught and being toyed with. If there was room in his will, he would yell and demand with a complete disregard for his life.
But quiet sounds are the only thing that slides out of his lips.
Wet lips latched onto his shoulder, sucking bruises into burning skin, sending shivers down an unsteady body. Joel grabbed a handful of its shirt, trying to yank it back to no avail. Still, he put up no fight as it marked him up, humming into his skin with a too loud thrill.
“You are so peculiar,” it mouthed under Joel’s ear. “So odd, and interesting.”
Joel brought his right hand up when a sharp pain bloomed on the side of his neck, opening his eyes to see the edge of his knife hovering over its shoulder.
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[click for a random day]
i mean, it doesn't say but it's scar. scar is a vampire. joel is [redacted]
could u do smalletho with tanuki joel and just like etho petting his ears and/or tail?
(got that tanuki joel brainrot frfr)
i tried
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📧 Day 122 -
Characters - Etho/Joel
Words - 292
Time - 15 mins
Content - Hermitcraft
When night falls, Etho falls onto his bed. He faces the ceiling, tracing the lines reflected back onto the planks on the floor. He drops his arm on his eyes to welcome the darkness, and he stays in place when padded footsteps approach. Closer and closer until they are climbing the creaking bed, plopping right on top of his front.
He breathes in and out calmly, filling and emptying his lungs with ease of no weight. It even feels lighter like this, someone weighing down on him, cuddling and nuzzling into his neck and collarbone and arms.
Comfortable and perfectly in place.
“Wow, you’re so obsessed,” Joel mouths, his smile tickling his neck.
Lazily, he drags his arm from his eyes behind his head between the pillow. His other hand snakes behind Joel’s neck where he squeezes then runs his fingers through the hairs above his neck. He climbs up, threading the curls before finding the soft, fluffy flickering ears.
He pinches it lightly, sliding from the base to the tip before flicking it back and forth, chuckling into the darkness when Joel swats his fingers away with his ear. Instead of trying again, he places down, running it down his back to the lazy tail.
His fingers sink into the fluffy fur, lightly running his fingertips along it. He follows the curve of his tail ending in a flick, a quiet huff into his shoulder makes him laugh.
“I’m obsessed, right,” he whispers as his hand finds its way back to Joel’s hair, petting his head and ears where it finally settles. He strokes the back of his ear with the back of his index, petting it down until they lower. Joel relaxes above him, muttering unintelligible words into his skin.
could i request some smalletho angst // hurt/comfort? 🥺👉👈 been feeling a little bit too much like sisyphus lately… :(
HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER ANON ♥
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📧 Day 121 -
Characters - Etho + Joel
Words - 358
Time - 15 mins
Content - Unspecified Setting
“You’re upset.”
Etho doesn’t bother looking up, or even looking down; instead, he closes his eyes with a sigh, slouching onto his bent knee.
Despite his lack of response, the other stays. In fact, and much to his annoyment, they move closer. The thud of a bag falling on the ground and the rustle of fabric as they kneel down. They inch closer, and closer, and when he opens his eyes, they are quite literally staring up at him.
(With big, brown eyes that he probably pays too much attention to.)
Of course, Etho flinches back, the back of his shoulders hitting the wall behind him. He presses his lips tight as Joel tilts his head, kneeling closer before sitting on his calves, hands on his knees.
“You are upset,” Joel repeats.
“None of your business,” he hisses out.
Joel doesn’t particularly react to the hostility, staying mostly neutral. But much too close for comfort, though there isn’t any room for Etho to run back to. He drops his palm on his face, closing his eyes into it.
Etho freezes in place when a hand presses on the other side of his face, eyes snapping open to stare at him. He stops breathing when Joel draws circles on his cheek with his thumb, and he shakes when Joel’s eyes fill with pity.
Rather than fighting it, Etho depletes of energy. He has no fight in him, no real will to push him away either. So when Joel pries his hand, Etho lets him, giving up when Joel holds his face in both hands. Joel moves closer, their knees and thighs knocking on each other, their legs fitted uncomfortably.
But Joel holds his face, lifts him up a little and looks at him.
A certain kind of softness and worry sparkle in his eyes. Rough hands that feel like silk on his skin. He closes his eyes, clawing at the feeling as he tries to bury it deep in his mind to never forget it.
“It’s okay,” Joel whispers, their foreheads bump as Etho tries to engrave his warmth into the depth of his skin. “I got you, Etho.”
