Every time a new guy is released, all of the various date scene artworks serve as an aggressive reminder of how stark the art quality difference has gotten between the newest guys and the base game guys
My favourite bands/musicians have been feeding me so well over the past month and change
Poppy dropped Empty Hands late January, then a couple weeks ago hemlocke springs released apple tree under the sea, and Gorillaz released The Mountain today
There's going to be a real music release void for me after this for who knows how long 😭
Marshmallow goes away for a few days and leaves an unhappy Cole behind... but in their absence, he has the chance to pay their home a much longer unsolicited visit than usual.
They/Them Marshmallow - PG/Not explicit - Obsessive/Stalking themes but it's Cole so you knew that already - Cole/Marshmallow though Marshmallow isn't technically present
(note: I have no idea what I’m doing here full disclosure, I’ve never written fanfic before so please forgive me if this is a mess. I’m posting this before I second guess myself, fuck it we BALL. My biggest anxiety w/ trying fanfic is mischaracterizing so let’s hope my interpretation of Cole isn’t too odd ;; If I still feel good about this in a few days I might try more blush blush fic in the future
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Cole had decided to go in through the window this time.
Sometimes, he preferred the delicious fear of going through Marshmallow’s front door instead. Enjoyed the queasy flip his stomach would do when one of their neighbours would peer out through the curtains at him for just a little too long while he picked the lock as subtly as he could. Savoured the tremble that overtook his hands when a car would pass down the darkened street, forcing him to pretend he wasn’t casing the joint, at least for as long as it took the headlights to stop illuminating his lanky form. He wouldn’t actually get caught, of course, he was no fool; he just couldn’t resist holding his hand over the flames once in a while.
But tonight, Cole wasn’t in the mood for playing with fire. Marshmallow had gone out of town for the weekend and despite Cole’s strongest efforts, he hadn’t been able to convince them to take him along. They had been truly apologetic, as far as he could recall - as soon as they’d broken the news, the rest of the conversation had turned into a blur. In any case, the logical part of him forgave them. The other part of him considered slashing their tires. ‘How lucky you are, my dear, that some things are too juvenile for my taste,’ he’d mused.
Cole had told himself that it would be fine - that he would be fine - without Marshmallow for a couple days. He’d known it was a worthless lie before it had finished crossing his mind. Sure enough, as soon as the sun had set, the quiet voice at the edge of his mind had grown into a nonstop nagging. ‘You have an opportunity here, you know,’ it purred. ‘With Marshmallow truly away, there would be no bolting at the sound of footsteps if you were to slip into their house.’ It was too relentless, pulling him as if on a lead and before he knew it he was in front of their house thinking of nothing but how to get in as quickly as possible.
So to the side of the building and through their bedroom window he went, quiet and efficient as always. He knew he really should advise Marshmallow to keep it locked. At some point. Eventually.
Before Cole’s feet had even touched the floor, he picked up Marshmallow’s familiar scent in the room, and a touch of the hollowness in him eased. Padding gently across the space, he easily reached to turn the lamp on despite the near-pure darkness. He’d been here enough times both sanctioned and unsanctioned to know the place like the back of his hand.
The desk lamp wasn’t overly bright, and Cole paused for a minute, hungrily taking in the appearance of Marshmallow’s bedroom blanketed in gentle illumination. The softness seemed fitting for them; a twin to their gentleness he so adored. He chuckled at the slight mess they’d left, surveying the stray socks, books, and a few stuffed animals on the floor. Turning his head back towards the desk, he spied a notebook they’d left out, one he hadn’t seen before, and his hand started to reach swiftly before he caught himself.
‘I have time,’ Cole reminded himself internally. ‘Time to do this as I please with no fear of hearing their key in the door. A fair consolation prize for being left to my own devices, and if I revel in it too much? Perhaps the lesson learned is to take me with you next time, darling.’
Cole carefully flipped the notebook and found a page Marshmallow had written in before leaving that morning. It was nothing special, truly; a few notes on what to pack, and a list of what needed to be done around the house after they returned. But the domesticity struck Cole to his very core, and he ran his hand across the inked indents on the page with the reverence of a faithful worshiper touching holy word. He allowed his fingers to leave the pages and trace along the desk, over the well-worn pen he knew was Marshmallow’s favorite, across the fresh pack of sticky notes he’d bought them because he knew they were about to run out. A small bottle of their favourite hand lotion sat near the edge of the desk, and his fingers stilled for a moment in contemplation before he picked it up, squeezed out a precious small amount and began to rub it in.
Cole’s eyelids fluttered closed as he brought his hands up to his face and took a deep breath. The heady scent he so strongly associated with Marshmallow that had only softly lingered in the room washed over him entirely, and he could almost convince himself they were standing next to him. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there taking it in, nearly expecting - almost begging - to hear their voice call him. But eventually the illusion passed, so he exhaled and dropped his hands, opening his eyes to look keenly at the bottle of lotion. A little thrill ran up his spine as his fist closed over it.
‘My, my, Marshmallow, how clumsy you are! A nearly-fresh bottle and you’ve misplaced it already,’ Cole thought as he slipped it into his pocket, biting his lip to stop his sly grin. ‘I do worry sometimes that you might lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on.’
Yes, this indulgent little visit had been a good idea after all.
Cole turned and found himself facing Marshmallow’s closet, left partially ajar in their haste to pack. He slid the door all the way open, letting the familiar outfits come into view. A full, genuine smile spread across his features as he recalled the first time he’d seen them in each one. It wasn’t a hard task - he was viewing a fabric-and-denim museum cataloguing most of the few moments he was truly happy. ‘That godawful mall, but they held my hand for the first time there so it wasn’t truly bad; the ice cream parlour where the poor thing got brain-freeze; the park, though they didn’t have a clue I was there for that one,’ he thought, eyes glittering with amusement.
Cole paused as he noticed a black sweater, blinking. He hadn’t seen Marshmallow in this yet. He slipped it cautiously off the hanger, as if it were the most delicate garment he’d ever handled, and hesitated for only a moment before zipping it on over his rumpled shirt. The sweater would surely fit Marshmallow better, but he savoured the awkward fit as a tactile reminder of exactly who it belonged to.
Finally, Cole couldn’t ignore what had been in his peripheral vision the whole time. Marshmallow’s bed.
His eyes glanced astray at Marshmallow’s nearby floor-length mirror, gaze catching his own figure in full. The shadows under his eyes were pronounced despite the low light, he was carrying himself slightly hunched, and he appeared so wholly out of place here. His mirror image’s stare almost felt accusatory. Or perhaps it was encouragement on his double’s face?
‘Go ahead. You know you want to. You know it’s been in the back of your mind since you’d first set foot out your own door.’
There were some things Cole hadn’t done and some things he’d never touched in his ‘unsupervised’ visits here. But Marshmallow had left him behind, damn it, they had left him ALONE when he needed them; of course he knew exactly the line he crossed now, but how could he not do it?
Cole lowered himself down on the bed, on the side opposite from where Marshmallow usually slept. In the dim light, he could almost envision their silhouette next to him, and he stretched his fingers across to lovingly trace the phantom outline of where their sleeping body would lie. Eventually, he let his hand settle back on the soft, slightly rumpled covers. Marshmallow had left the bed partially unmade as always; Cole would usually tut his disapproval and make it for them when he was invited over. This time, he just enjoyed their mark being left on it. He was taken by surprise when his eyelids began to grow heavy. He couldn’t normally sleep so easily, but he felt an undeniable comfort here in Marshmallow’s bed. The mattress was just as firm as he liked, and the pillow his head rested on was nearly perfect.
Cole reached across, swapping out the pillow he had been using for the one Marshmallow would have laid their head on. Now it was perfect, and he allowed his head to rest on it and his eyes to close.
The last thought that lulled Cole to a deep sleep was quite plain:
Tomorrow night, he’d go in through the front door.
I made this blog for the sake of mostly blushblush posting but I've been way less active than I intended to, and I've been so impressed by the most recent Hazbin Hotel season I might fully commit to multi fandom
That or I might make a side blog for blush blush and then make this one multi lol
Do you ever just KNOW you're on the edge of crossing the line from 'being a casual fan' of something into 'falling really hard down the rabbit hole', and you're at the point where you're past being able to stop it, so you just kinda have to watch it happen
That's where I'm at currently
I'm not sure I'm all that big on the perception of Cole as emotionless/distant/etc?
I actually specifically got the very opposite 'read' that he wears his heart on his sleeve! Just in a nonstandard way, and he doesn't seem to realize how obvious it is that he's doing it. He isn't nearly as self assured as he tries to come off. So many of his criticisms of the other guys are admissions of his own fears of what possible shortcomings he may have, and it demonstrates that he really wants connection and validation from Marshmallow. His weapon of choice to try and tell himself he's in total control over those feelings [He Is Not] is to be as calculating as possible on the outside which I guess is where the 'emotionless' perception comes from. But that's just an outer layer that's doing a not-super-great-job of covering his feelings imo.
I have no idea if this makes sense - it's late af here and randomly popped on tumblr to have somewhere to jot this all down HAHA
I'm terrible at being active so I'm just popping in to say I hope SPS continues with their current effort to give us more guys who are 30+
I've been playing blush blush for years, so I've aged enough that the youngest range of guys seem super young to me now - not invalidating that they are adults ofc! I'm just glad to see we're getting some more range ;w;
I hate when I open a drawing app and try drawing something and then it looks bad. to solve this issue instead of opening my drawing app I simply lay down, do nothing, and feel a combination of guilt/shame. this is a skill I am much more practiced at
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