KayMayGacha



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    Malevola has him pinned against her side, hanging onto him like she’s afraid he’s going to get swallowed by the drunken crowd. Sonar is on her other side, ears glowing faintly with the strobe lights as he knocks into her repeatedly.

    Visi swings by, wipes the corner of his mouth, then disappears. Hot hands find his head a second- seconds? minutes? later. The flash of orange and black coming closer has him swaying dangerously to catch whatever Flambae starts to mutter against his ear. Something about shitty music?

    Coop saunters past with a glint of metal, prying the empty tumbler from his hand. Punch Up appears with a full one to replace it. It makes his face flush when he takes a swig.

    “Yo! Anyone seen Golem?” Prism pushes through. She’s got Waterboy by the wrist; She might be about to use him to purposely slip people and get them out of her way. Phenomaman is floating after them.

    Visi comes back again, this time with Blazer holding on for dear life. They’re hugging like it’s the end of the world instead of just being drunk in a shitty bar. Blazer smiles, dimples showing. His vision swims.

    The whiskey burns. So does the ache in his chest.

    -

    Sometimes a drink feels like family.

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    19 Nov 2025

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    Tommy was handed a small flyer in printed in black and white, with the words “POETRY NIGHT - OPEN MIC” splayed across the front in bubbled font. He fumbled with his binder as he took it, eyes wide as he said, “are you sure? I mean, I love poetry and all, but I don’t think-I’m not sure—what if I can’t write poetry?”

    Mr. Sam’s dark eyes softened, and he reached out to place a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Everyone has to start somewhere; every poet, from me to Rudy Francisco, started off without knowing a clue about what we were doing. Tommy, it’s not about if you can or cannot write poetry, it’s about if you want to.”

    or:
    The performance poetry AU in which Tommy joins a slam team and finds a home in the arts.

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    12 Nov 2025

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    The fae was tall. Much taller than Tommy, and probably anyone else in the village for that matter. Hair the color of dark oak spilled over his forehead in tumbling curls. Flecks of gold dotted his cheeks like freckles, sitting underneath a pair of knowing eyes that seemed to flash between shades of earth and honey. His tall frame was draped in the most expensive-looking clothes Tommy had ever seen—flowing fabric in shades of snow and sunlight billowed in the light breeze. And there was so much jewelry. Gold bands decorated his arms, dangling gems decorated his pointed ears, and a shimmering gold circlet rested on his forehead.

    Past the beauty though, there was danger. His nails were pointed, his teeth too sharp. When Tommy tried to look him in the eyes, his head grew fuzzy, as if perceiving the fae directly wasn’t something he was supposed to attempt.

    He was smiling as he looked over Tommy.

    “Are you lost?” He asked in that same lyrical voice.

    or, Tommy gets adopted by the fae

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    02 Nov 2025

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    “And everyone is so old,” Tubbo complains. Somehow, without them knowing about it, Tubbo’s managed to swipe a waffle and is chewing on it happily. Sapnap stifles a laugh. “Well, not everyone, I guess- the kid in our room is our age, I think. He might be younger.”

    Wilbur perks up. “Does he ice skate?”

    “Yeah, he does. He’s got these sick skates and everything.” Tubbo explains. “He’s quiet though. We tried talking to him, but…”

    “But?”

    Tubbo shrugs. "He's quiet. He doesn't talk much. I guess he's busy."

    or, Tommy's made it to the Olympics for figure skating- he's the youngest contestant on the ice and he's the favor for the gold. He's supposed to be living the dream. So why is he still so unhappy? And why do all these hockey players and snowboarders care so much about him?

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    24 Oct 2025

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    “If you heard what we said, then you know what Puffy told me about you,” Tommy said, giving Wilbur a sticky sweet smile that was more akin to him baring his teeth.

    Wilbur’s face must’ve reflected the way his heart skipped a beat at that, because Tommy’s grin widened now that he’d found a thread to pull.

    “So?” Wilbur asked, struggling to act like he didn’t care about that part of the conversation.

    “So, I want to know what’s wrong with you.”

    The thread tugged right in the center of his chest, and Wilbur wondered if this was what it was like to unravel.

    or, Wilbur is only a few months away from getting his degree when he has a mental breakdown and is unwillingly pulled out of his classes. With nothing to fill his days, Phil gets Wilbur a part time job at a local bookstore, where he finds himself getting trained by a loud-mouthed teenager who hates his guts right off the bat. Great. All he wants to do is graduate, but now he has to deal with a seventeen year old trying to get him fired. Thanks Phil.

    But somehow, this kid ends up being exactly what Wilbur needs.

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    24 Oct 2025