What Was The Deal Ein X Aphmau? If I'm Thinking Right, Aren't They Siblings. SIBLINGS!!!! Did Neither

What was the deal Ein x Aphmau? If I'm thinking right, aren't they siblings. SIBLINGS!!!! Did neither of them know this? Even if they didn't, that's pretty left field to be adding to the story.

I feel like as things progressed, it was more and more important to make Aaron seem like the best guy, even if that meant downgrading other characters or pulling... "stunts" like this.

Here's a "yassified" drawing of Stephanie I made on the back of an essay.

...I survived midterms! I am mentally exhausted. My brain has killed off my creativity to make room for random information. Hopefully, it will replenish soon. *sigh*

People who were watching minecraft diaries when it was first airing, did anyone genuinely ship Aphmau with Aaron? If I'm thinking correctly, there was some sort of controversy. I was pretty young, so I don't really remember. I feel like it became one of those situations where it's like why even bother because it's obvious who she's going to end up with. I know I liked her together with Lawrence. Even now, the top things on tumblr about Aphmau don't usually include Aaron, which I think is interesting given the fact he's one of the "main" guys.

None of my friends watch miraculous ladybug. Sometimes, I just wanna talk (vent) about it with someone, and I think about telling them to watch it. But I must resist the urge to bring them into the fandom. YEARS of waiting and for what? Strife? Turmoil? Agony? I must put my own selfishness aside. It's for their own good!

maybe a fic of clay seeing bloberta cry and he gest sort of amused/surprised by it and gets curious about how this is the most emotion he's ever seen from her and eventually try to comfort her (very badly and awkwardly)

Hey, so I usually have something to say before I reveal the story but I actually don't have too much to say. I will say I did take a bit to write this so I hope you can understand. Anyway, I present "What's the Use of Crying?".

Bloberta isn't a crying type of person. It's one of the few redeeming qualities he sees in her. While some may find her nature to be cold, it was exactly what Clay prefers, someone like him.

…

Fine! He is a crier but does that really matter? The point is, Bloberta is the one that never cries, She rarely cracks a frown. But, there's a time for everything.

Clay walks the familiar path to his bedroom. It's a typical day, one filled with arguing and chaos. 

“Good night, Orel.” a feminine voice calls out. 

Clay stalls and waits for her to leave the room and step out into the hallway. When she does, the result isn’t what he was ready to see.

Their eyes meet and for the first time in a long time it was neither resentment or apathy, instead her eyes glaze over in sadness. 

Seeing him must have startled her because just as soon as they faced each other, she was gone. He doesn’t understand why she bothers to do this, there are only so many places you can hide in the house. It’s not like Bloberta was the most creative person either so naturally there is only one place that she would think to go.

Clay places a hand on the door handle and takes a steady breath. He knows he’s not very good at comforting people but he’s long since accepted that. Besides, it was often more trouble than what it's worth. If it had still been daylight he would have resorted to going out, finding something to ‘busy’ himself with. Unfortunately it was well into the night and entering their bedroom was the only option. He refuses to sleep on the couch one more night! Can’t she see that it’s hard on his back?

He finally gains the motivation to open the door. There sitting on her side of the room, as he expected, was Bloberta. Her tears had yet to cease, in fact she looked more distraught then she had just moments before.

“Hi.”

… there was no reply. What a great start!

“Um, how are you doing?”

Clay runs his hand through his hair in exasperation. Out of all the times Bloberta wants to shut her mouth, it was the time he actually wanted her to speak.

“Do I need to take Orel into my study?”

For the first time since he entered, Bloberta speaks. Her hands rub against her eyes and she turns to look up at him.

“Why do you always assume that Orel’s done something wrong?”

“Well, did he?” 

She sighs while a few stray tears continue to fall. “No Clay.”

“That’s good.”

She struggles to keep her resolve but fails. Bloberta throws her hand up and speaks her mind. 

“I can't believe I let you take Orel to that hunting trip! You know the doctors sa-”

“You didn't ‘let me’ do anything. I took him on that trip because he needed to go.”

She laughs, making her look as crazy as he always thought she was. Tears mixed with hysterical laughter. 

“I knew you were going to be like this Clay. That’s why I don’t even try talking to you.”

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be. Good night!” he huffs.

This might seem like he’s angry but behind his angry mask, he’s relieved. There is only so long he can handle talking about ‘emotions’ before he starts to genuinely think. It’s one of the reasons he drinks to stop the insistent thinking. He starts to move to his side of the divider when he’s stopped by her voice.

“Do you ever think about what's going to happen when Orel grows up? We're hardly holding on as it is.”

“Orel's going to be fine. I just try not to think about it.” He whispers.

Clay keeps moving hoping she’d drop the conversation. What’s the point of thinking of the future anyway? The present is shitty enough as it is.

“At least we'll have a few more years with Shapey and Block… but of course they’ll eventually leave too.”

“Ha! At this rate Shapey and Block will never grow up enough to leave the house. God works in mysterious ways.”

“Ugh, Clay there's no need to rub it in. We haven't done a good job raising the boys and now they'll suffer for it! Sometimes I think my Mother was right.”

“Right about what?

“All the… negative things she’d say about me. Maybe I truly wasn’t cut out to be a Mom.”

Clay lays down in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He feels calmer. Not under the scrutiny of her gaze.

“Well, I’m sure she was. Finally someone in your family who has some sense. You know Mother knows best.”

“Why would you say that to me Clay? Whatever, good night. Remember you have a early meeting tomor-”

What can he say?

What can he say?

What can he say?

What can he say?

“Well, um, you know you’re technically a mother now yourself. So by that logic, you're correct. Reverse psychology? Besides mother’s don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. I had an excellent Mom and I still turned out fucked up. There’s still a chance that you could be the worst mother in the world and still have kids that turn out good.”

“Um… Thank you?”