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petersbaby · 1 year

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This one is nasty but there’s a twist at the end lol

Pick one: steddie x reader

Warnings: good grief. uhhh. Smut. Pure, absolute smut.

I’m a little insecure about this one and I think I might go to hell for it 😭

“No, listen, you’ve GOTTA pick.” Eddie implores. He and Steve are having their most common and frequent debate on which one of them has better hair.

You roll your eyes. “No, YOU listen. Both of you have nice hair, I’m not gonna pick one.”

“Okay sure but mine has the fluff factor. Steve has a little volume, sure, but mine is curly and poofy. It’s badass.”

“Dude, ‘poofy’ is not a word and it definitely isn’t badass.” Steve responds back as if the other boy was talking to him.

They were like little kids. Always bickering and trying to make you be the referee.

The next weekend, you were back at Steve’s house with the whole friend group. It wasn’t a party, just a hangout. No one was drinking, just sitting around in the living room eating snacks, talking, watching TV. Your head turns quickly when you hear the front door open.

They were trying to do it quietly, sneakily, but the door made a creaking sound as it opened up and you caught them. The two boys, Eddie and Steve, were giggling like crazy and whispering to eachother. Once they get inside and close the door, coming closer to where you sat at the end of the couch, you ask them where they went and how long they were gone.

“Oh, you know, nowhere..” Steve giggles.

You take a deep breath in. “Okay, nevermind. You went to smoke, I can smell it.”

Steve whispers to Eddie, something about the kitchen and sure enough, that’s where they head. Nobody but you pays much kind to them walking around and being weird, it was the usual. They come back to where everyone is hanging out, can of soda in each boy’s hands.

They plopped down on the large sectional couch, glued by the hip. At least they weren’t bickering, you thought, and continued on watching the movie that was playing on Steve’s parent’s big screen TV with no worries as they were out of town.

At some point near the end of the movie, the two brown haired boys snuck up the stairs and presumably into Steve’s room. You didn’t think anything of it or even really notice it. Up there, Steve was pressed up against the door as soon as it shuts behind them, the metal head kissing him feverishly.

Their little grunts filled the air, turning more into moans as time went on, Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s hands wrapped around Steve’s neck. Both pulling each other closer, as close as they possibly could until their bodies were rubbing up against each other and Eddie felt Steve’s hard-on pressed into him and they swapped spit in an intense make out session.

Only a few minutes later, Steve was creeping down the stairs to approach you and pull you to the side.

“What??” You question, and he still has the dumb high look on his face.

“Need you to come here, we’ve gotta question for you.” He whispers.

“Let me guess, you want me to settle some kind of stupid little argument you’re having.”

“Maybe. Come on.”

He’s leading you up the stairs by your wrist, as if you don’t already know the way to his bedroom. Once you get in, he locks the door behind you and you confusedly search for Eddie, who’s laying back in the bed and palming at himself lazily through his jeans.

You return your gaze to Steve, who is in a rush to unbuckle his belt clumsily to free his hard on that you hadn’t previously noticed.

“What the fuck-“ you start to question, incredibly confused and flustered.

“Listen. I just need you to say for the record that my cock is nicer than Eddie’s. He thinks his is better, and it’s totally not.”

“Dude, shut up, let her decide.” Eddie chimes in.

“You want me to… what, rate your dicks? This game has gone a little too far.”

“Come on, please…” they both look up at you with desperate eyes as Steve sat down and joined the other boy on his bed.

“Okay, fine, fuck it.” You decide.

They giggle a little more, delighted at your willingness to participate. You can’t just focus on one of them as they’re both hastily attempting to take their pants off at the same time until they’re sat in front of you, bare besides a shirt.

Your eyes go to Eddie, who is stroking himself and looking at you expectantly. Your breath falters, overwhelmed at the sight, a part of him you’d never seen before. Steve notices your attention on the other boy and interjects.

“His only looks big because his hand is small. Here, look.” He reaches over and replaces Eddie’s hand with his own on Eddie’s cock, hands considerably larger.

“Jesus Christ. Is this something normal guys do or is this just part of your weird little bromance?” You struggle in effort to get the words out, all focus on the scene playing out in front of your eyes.

“Nothin’ weird about it, we help each other out.” Steve brings his hand to his own erection,

seemingly painful with how hard it looks. He strokes it a few times, and your eyes dart back and forth between the two of them.

“Well? What do you think?” Eddie asks hopefully.

“I think…. I might have to run some tests before I come to a conclusion.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You climb onto the bed after kicking your shoes off. “Come, eds.”

The boy scrambles to get closer to you as you lean back and he hovers above. You part your legs, allowing him between them and letting his cock rub against your wet pussy in the process. Only a thin cotton barrier lies between, and Eddie quickly removes it.

“You’re first. Let me see how you feel.”

“Fuck, okay.” He breathes, spitting into his hand to cover his dick with saliva and breaches your entrance, quickly filling you up.

Your eyes clamp shut, overwhelmed at the sensation all happening at once. You feel his breath dangerously close to your face, slightly opening your eyes to close the short distance and find his lips with yours. It was quick, it was frenzied, a little haphazard. He fucked you relentlessly as he allowed you to moan and pant into his mouth.

“Shit, harder, Eddie please.” The sensation is building. It spills over incredibly soon after he speeds up, increasing the force at the same time. Your nails dig into his shoulders and then his back, not remembering at what point his shirt was removed but not caring.

You can’t get the words out before you’re coming all around him and his head falls forward into your shoulder as he feels you squeeze him, focused on forcing himself to not finish yet. You push him away, and he pulls out of you with protest in his eyes but not speaking a word as he falls back on the bed. He slowly starts to squeeze his shaft, up and down with the help of your juices and cum all around his cock to lubricate it.

“Now you, Stevie, wanna feel you too.” And it takes a split second for him to move closer to you, a burst of dominance coming out of thin air that allows him to forcefully flip you over to your stomach. You try your best to arch your back for him but his big hands pressing down on your lower back prevents it.

He starts to slide inside of you from behind, taking it slower than Eddie had. Halfway through his length, you try to push back against him to get more, whining. He grips your ass tightly and pushes the rest of the way in, filling you out deliciously with a little sting, a little stretch. He was desperate to make you cum as soon as possible, sooner and harder than Eddie had.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you up on your knees with legs spread wide for him. When he started to thrust in doggy-style, you could feel him reaching and repeatedly hitting the perfect spot deep inside your pussy that the previous boy didn’t find.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you cried, unable to think about anything but the feeling.

“Fuck, she’s so tight, eds.” He comments to Eddie, and he just nods, watching his friend fail you.

“So big, so perfect,” you praise, trying to breathe in some air as your face was being pushed into the mattress but you didn’t mind.

“Yeah? Am I big, princess? You like it?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Cum for me then, show me how much you like it.”

You buried your face into the bedding again to muffle the moans falling out of your mouth once you fell over the edge, soon also noticing the sensation that you were gushing all over. The fluid leaked and ran all down your legs, your body shaking. After riding through your orgasm, Steve pulls out and flips you over once more.

Eddie comes to kneel next to you, cock hovering over your face as he started to jerk it hard, and you open your mouth wide with your tongue out. Steve stays between your legs, also furiously stroking himself until his hot cum shoots up your torso.

From your lower stomach to your belly button, up to the top of your ribcage, you were painted. Eddie groans, presumably after watching that happen, spilling all over your tongue. You tried to swallow it all down as he gave you more and more until his entire load was done.

“Y/N, hey.” You feel a hand on your arm, shaking it gently, and recognize the voice that awoke you to be Steve.

“You fell asleep, are you alright?” He asks, a cold hand pressing against your forehead as though to check for a fever.

“She’s fine, dude. Was probably just tired.” Eddie tells him.

Your eyes come back into focus, looking around at the empty living room and then down at yourself where you’d curled up on the couch and fell asleep on a throw pillow. You grunt as you sit up. “Yeah, was tired. ‘M sorry.” You state, in a sleep filled voice.

“It’s okay, princess. You want me to drive you home or do you want to sleep over here at Steve’s?” Eddie asks you. “I was just about to head out.”

“Wanna stay. Too sleepy.” You lay your head back down, comfortable and not wanting to step outside into the cool air and ride all the way back you your house.

“Alright, take care of her Stevie. I’ll see you guys.” Eddie walks out the door, keys in hand.

Steve takes yours, trying to pull you up off the couch to which your mumble in protest.

“C’mon, let’s get you into bed, then.”

“Nuh-uh.” You sigh, already drifting back to sleep.

“I know what you want. Fine.” He says dramatically, as if you’ve just caused him the biggest inconvenience of his life. He picks you up bridal style and carries you up the stairs. He plops you down on the guest bedroom’s mattress, pulling back the comforter and tucking you in as you continued dreaming.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #steddie #steddie smut #steddie x reader #steddie x y/n #eddie munson brainrot #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve x eddie

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kitmon · 2 years

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Let's Dance! | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chaperoning the middle school dance isn't what most would consider a weekend well spent and Eddie is inclined to agree. That is, until he formally meets you.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags: fluff, like the fluffiest fluff that has ever existed, vice president!reader, swearing (I genuinely don't even know if that's actually true, just assume that with all of my writing comes swearing), cringe? ok, some of what the reader does could be considered cringe but I DON'T CARE, IF IT'S CRINGE THEN I LOVE CRINGE, written out dance scenes (writing a lot of movement is hard, guys), that should be it, there's definitely no hard warnings for this, it is just pure, unadulterated fluff

Author’s Note: This idea came to me while I was listening to David Bowie's "Let's Dance" and maladaptive daydreaming hard. And it's been rattling around in my head for months and I'm glad that it's finally finished and it's way better than I could have ever hoped! @queenimmadolla did such an amazing job beta reading (she always does) and this is as much her work as it is mine and I would really love it if you could go send her some love because Tumblr's being mean to her right now and she could really use it. This is probably one of my favorite fics I've written and I really hope that you guys enjoy it as much as I do. I think that's all I have to say, as always, happy reading!

With your hands clasped in front of you, your hips sway to the beat of whatever mainstream, upbeat pop song the DJ was playing—the pristine white skirt of your dress shifting like the branches of a willow tree, caressed by gentle gusts of wind—you can’t help but admire your hard work; streamers and tinsel flow down from the ceiling, framing the slow-to-twirl disco ball that you stubbornly bartered for at a flea market in Indianapolis, and the glittery sign you painstakingly crafted by hand even though it took you all night and you’ve been finding flecks of glitter in your tissues every time you’ve sneezed for the past two days. Totally worth it, you think with a pleased smile.

You still remember your Snow Ball (though, arguably, it wasn’t all that long ago); December 15, 1980. You’d been stuffed into a poofy, absolutely ridiculous gown that you adored with all of your heart, dancing to the Bee Gees with Pat Rafferty, a foot-and-a-half of space between your bodies as you stepped, stiffly, from side to side. The scene had looked just like this, right down to the plastic flowers you arranged in the center of each table and, even though it’s entirely trivial, you remember that night being one of the best you’ve ever had. It was the sole reason you begged Principal Higgins to let you join the planning committee amongst the middle school staff and PTA. And now, here it is: all blue and white and shiny, having come to fruition.

Your smile softens as you lose yourself in the memory of that night but it isn’t long before you’re jolted out of the past when you catch a large, clumsy movement from the corner of your eye, followed by the sound of someone tripping and nearly falling. Your head whips around to find a man—definitely not a boy considering he stands at least a whole foot above the rest of the attendees—with his ankle caught around one of the tinsel cords. As you watch him struggle, you realize that you recognize him. It’s kind of impossible not to; the messy nest of hair, the randomly spaced tattoos along his exposed forearms. The only thing you don’t recognize is his attire, it’s still definitely… him. His lean torso is sporting a wrinkled dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and the slouchy pinstripe pants he’s wearing are assuredly a size or two too big on him. It’s a far cry from his usual harsh leather and denim.

He’s hopping a bit, trying to untangle himself and you figure you better step in before he falls and crashes into the concessions.

“Here! Just—Let me,” you insist, chuckling as you step closer and crouch down to unwind the ribbon from around his shoes, finding a mangled knot. Jeez, how did he manage to do all this just by tripping?

You manage to undo the binding and he steps free with a little bounce, stumbling a couple of steps. He clears his throat as you stand and pat your hands over your skirt, “Sorry about that, can barely see anything a foot ahead of me in here.”

“It’s okay,” you assure, giggling at the red hue that paints his cheeks, noticeable even in the dim light. “Can I help you with something?”

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he shifts his weight a bit, looking over his shoulder and licking his lips before continuing, “I’m supposed to be chaperoning, or something like that.”

“Oh!” You didn’t know any other high schoolers were chaperoning tonight—because why would they?—but it’s not like you’re going to refuse the help. “Well, you’re in the right place.”

Before he can properly respond, you shove your open palm towards the center of you both and introduce yourself with a confident flow of words. He’s a little taken aback by how quick and concise you are with your actions.

“Eddie,” he says as he accepts your smaller hand into his own, intrigued with how shockingly cold your fingers are.

Your handshake is a firm one and he takes a step back once you release his hand and clasp yours together, suddenly aware of just how in your space he’d been. You watch with an amused smile as he purses his lips, nodding his head and surveying the small array of finger foods.

“Soooo,” he drawls, lips still comically pursed, “what exactly do we do for the next three hours?”

“Well,” you sigh, “we basically just watch the concessions and stuff; make sure the punch isn't getting spiked or whatever happens in movies. Though, I highly doubt any one of these kids managed to get their hands on a bottle of booze.”

Eddie seems to get the gist of the job, looking out over the sea of children.

“Oh, we also have to make sure no kids are getting too handsy behind the bleachers—Jenny! Ryan!” you shout, having caught sight of the two eighth graders kissing a little too aggressively for their weight class. “I see you two!”

You jut your finger out and as the clap of your voice reaches them they scramble away from each other and hold their arms at their sides like they’ve been caught with their grimy mitts in the cookie jar.

“Got it,” he says, eyeing the eighth graders with a sideways glance.

You huff and look back towards Eddie, eyes wide and features soft as you ask, “How’d you get roped into this?”

He dips his head and stares at you from below his brow.

“No offense!” you’re quick to defend. “It just… doesn’t seem like your kinda scene. I’ve seen you around school, you know. You wear those band tees and the vest and, well, your hair. . .” You chuckle and mimic ruffling your fingers through your own mane.

“What d'you mean?” he starts, voice laced with sarcasm, “Chaperoning a middle school dance is my idea of a perfect Saturday!”

You cock your head and send him an unimpressed stare, blinking your eyes with a heavy slowness.

“Okay, fine, you caught me. I don’t actually like watching a bunch of preteens awkwardly shuffle to crappy pop music on the weekend. I made this stupid deal with Higgins so that I could start a club.” His arms are crossed over his chest as he stares down, face shrouded with his wild hair as he watches his toes nudge at the legs of the table.

“What kind of club?” you ask, angling your head to try and catch his eye.

Your question raises some suspicion in his mind, almost hesitant at your interest and he shakes his head before answering.

“A D&D club. You know D&D?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. You shake your head slowly with an apologetic look over your face as you bite your lip and it’s clear that was the answer he’d been expecting from you but he isn’t upset, just a little disappointed.

“Well, it’s like a tabletop roleplay ga—actually, it doesn’t matter, all you need to know is that I came to Principal Higgins with it and he shot it down, as soon as he saw me walk in.”

That makes your brows furrow and your lower lip jut out as an unpleasant emotion settles in your stomach. That’s definitely something you’d have to bring up with your cohort of student council members later.

“He said, and I quote, the only way he’d let my ‘band of hooligans congregate’ is if I showed that I was ‘committed to the community,’ or something like that, which means… chaperoning the middle school dance.” He finishes and you nod your head in understanding, feeling slightly sympathetic towards his cause; it's a bit unfair that he has to go through all this trouble just to start a club when you were able to start up the Photography Club with no questions asked.

“And you?” He questions, causing your head to perk up and your eyes to widen, “What are you in for?”

You smile and respond with a cheeky tilt of your head, “I’m actually here of my own free will, if you can believe it.”

“Ohhhh,” he draws out, faux-interest candying his voice before it drops down to a playful dullness, “you’re right, I can’t believe it.”

“Hey!” A smile is consuming your face even as you realize you have to defend yourself against his teasing. “Some people actually like to give back to the community. Plus, it’s a part of my Vice Presidential duties; to show I care about stupid things like the middle school Snow Ball.”

You draw your stare down towards your toes and share a shy smile with yourself as you toy with your fingers. Eddie smiles down at you for a moment, his hands stationed along his hips before his gaze drifts to the scene ahead of him, taking in the neat decorations and the hordes of prepubescent children that jabber amongst themselves and it’s clear the awkward shuffling of feet on the dance floor is here to stay. Despite that part of it being unbearably hard to watch, the rest is quite impressive.

“You sure do know how to plan a party, I’ll give you that much. Looks way better than my Snow Ball.”

That causes your head to snap up and an entirely dumbfounded look to paint your face.

“You went to the Snow Ball?” you ask in disbelief.

You know better than to judge a book by its cover but it seems so out of place for him. You’ve heard all of the stories and the rumors; that he’s a shut-in who dedicates the weekends to his cult-leading responsibilities. You’ve never thought to believe them, even for a second. It just felt so thoughtless and cruel and a genuine waste of your time to be gossiping behind peoples’ backs just because you didn't understand them. It was beyond lame. But you’d see him at parties, all broody and intimidating in the corner with a rusty metal lunch box he’d pop open and not-so-discreetly demonstrate his stock. He never danced, never talked to anyone unless it was to discuss prices, and he never smiled, not unless he was flipping through his wad for the night and counting his bills.

“Mmhm,” he smiles, almost proud for dispelling any preconceived notions, “got all dolled up in a monkey suit and everything. Even managed to work up the courage to ask Andrews to dance; she did not seem too impressed, I can tell you that.”

“Paula Andrews?” Again, the disbelief laces your tone but this time for good reason. Paula Andrews was vile, not for her looks or anything like that—she was actually ridiculously gorgeous—but for her nasty attitude. Anyone with a cowardly bone in their body would turn tail and run at the sight of her for fear of being ridiculed for even breathing in her direction. Even now, she was catty and prissy and mean.

“Yup,” he sighs like he’s already predicted your criticism and agrees with all of it.

“Ugh!” You visibly recoil, squinching your nose and wrinkling your lip. “Why would you ever want to dance with Paula Andrews? She’s… evil,” you shudder. “She once put gum in my hair because I wouldn’t let her cheat off of my science quiz.”

“I dunno,” he chuckles before simmering down, his voice becoming uncharacteristically hushed as he twists his rings up and down his finger. “Because she was pretty… and popular.”

You can't really fault him for that; everyone either wanted Paula Andrews or wanted to be Paula Andrews.

“What’d that witch do?” you ask tentatively like you’re afraid of the answer.

“Oh, nothing original,” he reminisces, “called me a freak and cackled that witch laugh of hers before stalking off with her flock of flying monkeys.”

You snort and move to cover your mouth with your hand, giggling behind it, “She does kind of laugh like a hag, doesn’t she?”

He laughs with you until you both calm to huffs and gentle smiles.

“Well if it’s any consolation,” you begin, “I would have danced with you.”

He looks you in the eye for a moment before dropping his gaze and sucking his lips in slightly towards his teeth, nodding with a pleasant grin on his lips.

The conversation merges into a comfortable silence as the both of you assume your chaperoning chores, Eddie picking at the charcuterie platter, exclusively the buttery crackers and tiny cubes of American cheese, tossing the morsels into his mouth while you survey the room, both with the intention of monitoring any misbehavior and gauging the room’s energy. Your findings are rather disappointing; the dance floor is empty! Not a ghost town, by any means, a few couples took to dancing but the walls are much more saturated with middle schoolers than the actual space meant for dancing.

You watch as the boys chat amongst themselves, throwing a few fleeting glances over their shoulders towards where the girls are cliqued up every once in a while. It's obvious they want something to happen but lack the confidence to be the ones to start it. Why not give them that extra little push?

“Do you want to dance?” you hurriedly blurt out, twisting to face Eddie beside you. His eyes are glassy and saucer-ish as he stares at you, mouth stuffed full of crackers and cheese as he addresses you. He twists his head over his shoulder only to find the spot behind him empty, pointing to himself and humming a muddled question.

“Duh!” you giggle. “Who else would I be talking to?”

He swallows his mouthful with some difficulty and begins stammering for a response.

“I don’t, um, really think that’s a good idea,” he laughs with a nervous tinge.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

You’re already winding your fingers around his wrist and leading him to the dance floor, weaving past and around the few brave couples that were dispersed about the court.

He’s babbling the whole way, noncommittally digging his heels into the ground and leaning away to slow you and when you’ve found your spot on the floor, turning to face him, he leans forward and whispers to you, “I can’t dance.”

His words are panicked as his eyes flit around you, hyper-aware of everyone’s stare on the two of you. He’s less so worried about his reputation as much as he is yours; you’re a sweet girl, people like you, like you enough to have voted for you and he’s… him. And in this town, being him or anywhere near him is social suicide.

But his warning does hardly anything to stop you. You can't dance either but you keep your head held high and your back straight as you feign confidence to encourage him.

“You’re in a band, right?” It was an odd question for the situation but he knits his brows and nods anyway. “You like music, you go to concerts. What do you do in those situations?”

He thinks about it for a moment, turning his head to survey his memory but stops himself when he reaches a conclusion, not thinking it a good idea but you seem entirely oblivious as you hearten him with an eye-squinting smile.

He shakes his head, taking in a large breath before huffing it out. The calm, collected act is disrupted by his whiplash energy shift as he starts violently moshing, headbanging, flicking his hair all over the place while he jumps and kicks around. The sudden burst makes you jump in your spot and blink your eyes at him. You watch for a second or two, lips ticking up at the corners at his very… passionate expression and as much as you’d like to keep watching him bounce around, you figure you should start with something a little more… pedestrian-safe.

You cautiously reach your hand out, a little afraid to approach him in fear of getting taken out by a stray limb or a particularly aggressive clump of hair but you manage to touch your fingers over his shoulder without injury, halting him. He slows his movements to a controlled bouncing of the toes, breath panting, hair wild, and shirt wrinkled—well—more wrinkled than it had been.

“Maybe not like that,” you cringe with a bunched nose and lopsided twist of your lips. “Try this instead.”

You trail your hand that was over his shoulder down his arm to take his hand into yours, scooping the other one from his side to guide the both of them to your waist, coaxing them to mold there. He looks a little afraid, eyes owlish as his tongue sprints out over his chapped lips too many times in a single moment.

“And I'll put my hands over here,” you narrate, placing your forearms over his shoulders as you link your fingers together behind his neck. You begin shuffling your feet, your white mary janes clicking against the lacquered gymnasium hardwood as you foster some movement.

“See, it’s not that hard.” Almost like you’ve jinxed it, as the words exit your mouth he steps right over your toes, and your face twists with a wince you do your best to suppress.

“Sorry, “ he winces with you, his eyebrows bunching with an apologetic look.

“It’s okay!” You’re quick to reassure him, a laugh and a smile embossing your words. “Just—look at me; when you look down you only end up tripping yourself up.” You release your fingers and bring one of your hands from around his neck to cradle his jaw in your grasp and angle his face upwards so that he’s gazing at you with those large, glazed cow eyes. You smile when you capture his rich chocolatey stare. “There, much better.”

The two of you sway glacially, Eddie relaxing under your touch after meeting your eyes, the shy lilt of his lips making a warmth bloom in your chest. You stay like this for a while, remaining committed to your designated square where the two of you can rock from side to side without disruption before you attempt to perform something a little more difficult. You slide your hand down over his shoulder and along the cotton of his shirt until it's grasped in his own, twirling yourself and gracelessly switching your feet before stumbling back into his chest with an uninhibited chortle, head thrown back as you laugh at yourself. He’s laughing too, his eyes trained on your ruched nose and crooked smile as you press your forehead against his chest.

As the song builds in energy you separate your hands from his chest and step away, starting to clumsily dance. It’s a gentler sort of moshing, he thinks as he watches you hop in place and shake your head, completely uncoordinated but entirely adorable. His posture slouches to the side as he watches you move, wholly mesmerized.

“Come on!” you laugh, breaking him out of his trance, taking his hands and moving them to simulate dancing.

He smiles before he's splitting from you and doing his own goofy thing, illustrating a botched and lumberly take on The Twist as he shakes his mane of wild hair this way and that.

The two of you are one of four couples on the dance floor and the army of children that trace the edge of it and surround you throw their estranged glances your way and could you really blame them for it? You had two high school seniors—one the predicted Valedictorian of her graduating class and the other the school pothead and resident freak—tearing up the dance floor of the eighth grade Snow Ball. But as the chatter of your embarrassing antics grows louder, a few brave souls make their way to the dance floor to join you and Eddie, hopping and shaking and twirling like unhinged maniacs, but they were giggling and tittering and having fun and that’s all that really mattered.

As you dance with Will Byers, holding his small hands in yours as you twist and twirl him, Eddie smiles to himself and stands with his hands on his hips, admiring the precious sight. As he watches, a particularly rowdy couple crashes into him and sends him flying towards you.

Just as he collides with you and knocks you a bit off balance, the previous song fades into a brief silence, a slower, calmer, more romantic song following; "How Deep is Your Love" by the Bee Gees.

“I’m sorry!” he’s quick to remedy, stabilizing you by holding your waist.

You chuckle, clearly high off of the endorphins that come with exercise, “It’s okay—”

“Are you hurt? Did I step on your foot again?” He’s rambling now and chasing each worried sentence with another as he’s examining you for any hidden injuries that could come with being bumped and stumbling three steps.

“Eddie!” You raise your voice to grab his attention, that same laugh twining your words at his ridiculous worry as you place your hand over his bicep. “I’m okay! Promise. Scouts Honor,” you say sucking your lower lip in and holding up your first three fingers.

“Okay, good,” he sighs, relaxing into a smile, “Good.”

Will looks between the both of you and smiles with a glint of understanding in his eyes.

“Hey,” he touches your arm to grab your attention, “I’m gonna get some punch and sit down, you really wore me out with that last song.”

You smile down at him and ruffle his hair, “Okay, Little Byers, you let me know if you're up for another one, you’re probably the best dance partner I’ve had all night.”

Will flashes a toothy grin and exits, weaving his way past warm bodies towards the abandoned snack table.

“I cannot believe you just said that.” Eddie reclaims your focus.

Your brows furrow as an anxiety of misspeaking clouds your features, “What?”

“And to think I thought, for even a second, that we shared something special, dancing like idiots,” he says with a smirk, the sarcasm now dripping from his words.

“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, landing a punch to his shoulder.

“You wanna give me another shot at redemption?” he offers with a smirk, reaching his open palm out to beckon you towards him.

You smile, an air of bashfulness consuming your actions as you stare down at the floor before taking his hand and assuming the same position as before: your hands twined together, behind his head, fingers slithering under his hair as you play with the scraggly strands at the nape of his neck, winding and unwinding them around your digits.

“So,” you start, “how d’you feel about chaperoning now?”

“Mmm,” he hums, looking out at an unseen point in the distance to ponder on it, “still on the fence.”

You gape at him, “We just danced like crazy! You were laughing like a madman!”

“Well,” he laughs, “is chaperoning always like this?”

“Like what?”

“I don't know—fun, exciting, metal?”

You giggle as you stare down at your feet, lifting your head to send him a suddenly heavy look in your eyes, the rest of your expression at once sober.

“When you have the right partner.”

There’s a silence as he takes a moment to ruminate on your words before concluding, “Alright, tell you what: I’ll chaperone every dance if you're there.”

He looks down at you with fond eyes and you glow under his gaze, dipping your head to hide away from his abruptly intimidating stare and lay your temple against his chest. You can hear the rhythmic thumping of his heart against his rib cage and sigh at the comforting noise.

“That’s a deal, Munson.”

The air is empty and silent, a calm, welcome quiet that permeates after all of the kids have left and gone home, likely recounting the events of the night with their friends or family. You and Eddie, on the other hand, are working to tidy the place; you're climbing onto chairs and tables to swipe paper streamers and tinsel ribbons from where they’re taped to the ceiling and pillars, and Eddie sweeps up fallen snacks and any glitter that has trailed along the floor. You hum David Bowie to yourself as you crumple the paper and the plastic into your hands and toss it into the bin.

You do the best you can with only two pairs of hands and figure what you’ve accomplished is substantial for the night as you walk towards the bleachers, plopping yourself onto one of the benches and leaning back against the one behind you to rest your head in your folded arms. Eddie trudges towards where you sit, after tossing the broom into the corner, and slumps into the space next to you, propping his elbows along the same bench you rest your head on.

He slants his head to look down at your weary body and lets a tender smile pull at his lips and dimple his cheeks.

“You have a fun time, kid?” he appeals, luring you out of your burrow.

You nod into your arms and hum, turning your head so your face is revealed to him as you peel your eyes open and offer him a sleepy smile. You reach a groggy hand out and place it over his.

“Thank you for dancing with me.” It comes out hushed and a little raspy.

He takes a better hold of your hand, flipping his and wrapping his fingers around yours to rub his thumb over your knuckles and the soft joints of your fingers, the skin radiating a healthy warmth.

“It was my pleasure,” he smiles, before teasing, “Gave me a hell of a workout.”

You giggle at his joke before righting yourself and stretching your arms out in front of you like a cat, releasing his hand as you do it and scrunching your face as the tension releases from your body. When you finish, you stand, taking his hand back in your hold and encouraging him up with a ginger tug.

“C’mon, time to clock out.”

He complies and stands with some effort, creaky joints groaning as he places his free hand on his knee and lifts himself. As you walk to the double doors and click off the remaining lights you don't feel the need to let go of his hand, even if it makes locking up the gymnasium a little bit harder.

Taglist:

@guessthestrangers

@dadsbongos

@lunatictardis

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random-imagines-blog · 4 days

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Love is a Place to Hide {Nicholas Garrigan x Spouse!Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @groovyqueer Wordcount: 2320 Summary: After graduating medical school, you and your husband start making plans. Warnings: Light swearing, implied sexual acts.

The water was cold when it hit your skin, freezing even, making you gasp as you arose from it, hair sticking to your face. You heard a loud laugh beside you - your husband, Nicholas, shaking his head, water droplets flying everywhere. You couldn’t help but smile as well, seeing how happy he was. He must have seen the same thing in you since his grin was wide enough to just show the little tooth gap that he had on the left side of his mouth. “We made it, Nicky,” you said, swimming over to him in the lake, avoiding your other classmates. “We graduated. We’re actual Doctors now!”

“Dr and Dr Garrigan,” he said with a laugh, wrapping his arms around you underneath the water, bobbing up and down. The cold hardly seemed to bother him. You were forgetting about it also, feeling warm in his embrace instead. Your hand went to his shoulder to help keep you up, your wedding band twinkling in the pale sunlight. You had married young, during your second year of university, after only a year and a half of knowing one another. But when you know - you know. That’s what people say, and you understood it to be the truth. You looked into Nicholas’s adorable face, with his poofy hair, and his do-good attitude, and knew that he was the only man for you.

And now, now you were both Doctors, finished with Medical School, getting ready to make your mark on the world. “Now we just have to figure out exactly where we’re going to practice,” you said, kissing his wet cheek, making him blush. Even now, after the honeymoon phase was older, you were still able to bring that reaction out of him, and there was something beautiful about that. The way that the pink spread across his cheeks, his nose.

“I have a globe back at ‘ome,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face. “Why don’t we give it a spin? Wherever we land is wherever we go.”

You poked his cheek gently. “Within reason, Nicholas. We should have at least a quick look at current events before we go. I want to help people, but I also don’t want to go somewhere that’s really dangerous for us - is that a deal?”

“Alright, alright,” he said, rolling his eyes but he was still smiling at you. Giving into you, as he always did.

Dinner with his parents had been an awkward affair, as per usual. They never really approved of the marriage between you and Nicholas, simply because you were also in medical school. They thought that their son should be with someone that was more like his mother. A stay-at-home wife. Someone to give him lots of children and then spend all of their time watching them, cleaning the house, cooking roast dinners. You weren’t like that. You wanted to work, you wanted to help save lives, you wanted to make a difference, which was one of the major things that you and Nicholas ended up connecting on.

“Your mother and I are very proud of you, Nicholas,” His father said, pouring you all just a splash of sherry. He was a very reserved man, hardly taken to drink. Not like his son has. “And you too, y/n,” he said, as an afterthought.

“Very proud,” Nicholas’s mother smiled at the two of us. You put your hand on your husband’s thigh beneath the table, giving it a squeeze, smiling back at the older woman.

“Not quite as good a degree as mine...” His father continued. “-but a fine one nevertheless.”

You scoffed, unable to help yourself, and Nicholas laid his hand on top of yours. Nicholas’s mother shook her head slightly, used to this sort of pompousness from her husband. And Nicholas looked slightly disappointed. What boy didn’t want his father’s approval? And what father would compare his own degree to their child’s - especially after all those years of medical school? It hardly seemed fair.

“Being a family doctor..." Mr. Garrigan said, sitting down in his seat. “Well, let me tell you, Nicholas, you’ve chosen a fine life. If we’ll all raise our glasses - a toast.”

It took everything inside of you not to roll your eyes. But you picked up your glass and raised it, just as everyone else at the table had. “To father and son. And a long future together.”

“And to wives,” You added, right as you clinked glasses, looking at Mrs. Garrigan, who seemed to blush slightly at being included in the toast. “And to Doctors in general, shouldn’t we?”

“There’s three at the table now,” Nicholas said, looking at you with a grin. His father looked a bit shaken, bringing the glass to his lips without saying anything more. “Three doctors, in one family.”

“It’s wonderful,” Mrs. Garrigan said, probably patting her own husband’s knee under the table. You looked at Nicholas, making eye contact with his big, beautiful blues and winked. He knew that you had his back.

An hour later, you were in his room, sitting on the floor and going through some of his childhood things while he laid on the bed smoking. It was just a twin-size bed – small, and you couldn’t fit on it with him. He would be taking the guest room tonight, stretching out on the big bed by himself, which was still less comfortable than this one.

He surprised you by screaming. Well, more of a yell but it was still loud enough to make you jump, to turn your head away from the G.I. Joe Toys that you were examining to see what was with him. “Nicholas, are you alright in there?” His father’s voice came through.

“I’m fine,” He shouted back. He started to sit up. “I’m fine,” he said again, quietly.

“What a prick,” You sighed. “You know, he wouldn’t even have a job if it wasn’t for people like us. Family doctors, running tests on people, finding out the problems for him to go in and act like a hero. You know who is always in demand? Us. You know who would still have a job if we had shaky hands? Guess what! Us.”

Nicholas looked down at you and chuckled. “Tell me how you really feel about him.”

“Infuriates me. And also - we’re married, Nicholas. And they won’t even let us have the guest room together. They drove us to the airport on our honeymoon, they know that we-”

Nicholas laughed again and put his hand on your mouth, stopping you from saying something vulgar. “Say it any louder, and they won’t even let us be in a room together,” He teased. Then his eyes seemed to catch on to something, and he remembered the plan that he had come up with before. He got up from the bed and grabbed the globe, setting it on his nightstand beside the glass of whiskey that we had been sharing. “Okay, first place we land, we go,” he said.

You nodded, your heart beating quickly with anticipation. Were you really about to make a life changing decision by spinning a globe? Yes, you really were. This spontaneous side of Nicholas was something that you adored. Seeking adventure, even at the most inopportune times.

“This is terrifying,” you said, standing up pacing along behind him, looking over his head of wavy hair to the globe as he closed his eyes and gave it a spin. You almost couldn’t look yourself. But you also couldn’t look away. Round and round the globe went, until Nicholas put his finger on it, bringing it to a stop. You bent down over his shoulder to see the large country that was painted pink beneath his nail.

“Canada,” he said. He really didn’t sound sure about it. Actually sniffed his nose at it and then gave it another spin before you could stop him.

“Hey, first place we land, we go,” You argued.

‘But come on. It’s Canada. It’s basically like being in England,” he said, a look of disdain on his face, his finger stopping on the globe again.

“Oh, we are not going to Uganda,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s a civil war brewing there, I read about it in the papers. I know you want adventure but I’m not ready to be surrounded by guns.”

“This was a bad idea,” Nicholas sighed, falling back onto his ass on the floor, glaring at the globe like it was his fault.

“Actually - it’s not,” you said, brightening up. “You want adventure? You want to make a difference?” You could see that you had his attention with that, his blue eyes sparkling curiously. You moved the globe back to Canada and pointed towards the northern territories. “We go here.”

“And freeze our arses off?” Nicholas asked, raising an eyebrow. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to warm you back up,” you said, putting your arm around his shoulders, looking at the second largest country on the globe. “But think about it, Nick. There are people out there, people who don’t get access to healthcare usually. Or if they do, it’s really expensive. And not only that, but they also live a totally different lifestyle than we do, right? So, there’s the adventure. PLUS,” You added, looking at his unconvinced face. “- who doesn’t want to ride on a dogsled? Come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

He sighed, the air blowing up, moving his brown bangs out of his face. You smiled, biting down on your lip, knowing that you had him. Knowing that you were slowly getting into his head with it all.

“We land, we go,” He finally agreed.

“We land, we go,” you said with a grin. “Besides, if it gets really cold - we’ll have to snuggle up close to one another for body heat, and that doesn’t sound bad at all, does it?”

Nicholas looked at you, and then to his small bed, a playful smile beginning to cross his face. “Bit nippy for late spring, dont’cha think?” He asked you. “Should we get started on practicing that now?”

You caught his line of thinking and instantly started to undress yourself, taking off your sweater. His hands were on your waist in seconds, one wrapping around it and the other helping to tug your shirt up over your head, his lips attaching themselves to your skin. Together, you crashed down onto the twin-sized bed, with just enough room if you two held one another close, which was exactly what you had planned to do for the rest of the night.

After getting your VISAs, making travel arrangements, finding a place to stay and making medical contacts in Yellowknife, you touched down in the Northwest Territories for the first time, the plane. It wasn’t the biggest airport you’ve ever been in, but it was still larger than you had thought it was going to be.

“It’s also said that Yellowknife is one of the best places to see the Aurora Borealis, can you imagine that?” You chattered happily, waiting for your bag. “We could just ... step outside and see one of the most beautiful things on earth."

“And if I ever wanted to freeze my bollocks off, I just have to open a window,” He mumbled. You had managed to talk him into the trip, to get him slightly enthused, but as soon as the colder-than-Scotland weather came around, he had turned almost into a child. You leaned in and kissed his cheek, then ran your fingers through his dark wavy hair.

“If they ever get cold, I’ll massage them back to life,” you told him with a smile. “Can you please just smile for me, love? We’re where not many people ever step foot. It’s almost like - we’re explorers, don’t you think?”

“Darling, light of my life,” Nicholas said, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I say this with all possible love. But you have to be one of the nerdiest people that I have ever met in my life.”

Your smile grew even wider with that. Of course you took that as a compliment. “And that’s what drew you to me in the first place, isn’t it? My supreme nerdiness and endless optimism?”

It was his turn to smile now, finally, showing off that small gap that he had in his teeth, your favorite little spot. One of the few features that reminded you that he was indeed human, and not some perfect figure of your imagination. The slightly bulbous nose, the tooth gap, the freckles, the way that he enjoyed taking his shirt off even when he wasn’t the most muscular fella around. All of these adorable things made up your husband - Nicholas Garrigan.

“Your face helps too. And your body isn’t too bad,” he said, his hand starting to tickle your side. You squeal a little and try to swat him away, but he just takes the opportunity to pull you in closer to him, looking at one another, your eyes completely caught. “But you’re right, as usual. I do love that brain of yours. And how you seem to be even more adventurous than I am. Only you could see snow and want to go out there, like someone trying to find the Northwest Passage.”

“And now aren’t you even happier that I got you to take those history electives?” You said, eyes glowing brightly in the harsh airport lighting. “Come on - getting married and navigating medical school was our first big adventure. This is only the next one.”

#Nicholas Garrigan #Nicholas Garrigan x reader #Nicholas Garrigan oneshot #The Last King of Scotland #The Last King of Scotland oneshot #movie #movie oneshots #x reader #oneshot #nicholasg

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morninkim · 7 months

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the gang's all here!!

now we're just missing team rocket 👀

inspired by kianamai's redesigns!!

design notes and lil musings under the cut!

Ash takes a lot from Pokespe in terms of his proportions (at least how the early chapters look in my head) and some cues from the newer movie designs bc i LOVE those, especially the one from Power of Us. So ya I also wanted to give him a big poofy jacket bc of i remember seeing an interpretation of Red's original sprite as a big jacket as well and i think it suits Ash a lot. The style was kinda early One Piece inspired at first, so there's just a big of Luffy in Ash's design, but I think it ended up more Digimon Adventure in the end lmaoo. The nose bandaid's to just elevate that rookie protagonist feel a lil bit + I spent way too long figuring out a new hat symbol lmaoo. He's also 11 in this world to match Red's age in RBY.

Pikachu I just wanted to draw him like Red's Pikachu in Special and give him the lighter coloured tummy from early artwork.

Misty's the biggest departure obvs but I knew I wanted to give her a crop hoodie and take inspo from Kiana Khansmith's Misty and give her the wetsuit as an undersuit. Then the chunky shoes were carried over from Ash with big scrumpled socks bc I thought it made her look a lil more unkempt. The whole goal was the make her more scrappy looking and focus in on the whole "Tomyboyish Mermaid" thing from the games. Also combined her RBY hair with her GSC do by making it a half-up ponytail that I think is very cute. OH and her shoes are Cerulean Gym branded, bc I imagine in this world there's merch for each Gym that the leader wear, so the wet suit and hoodie would be branded too. The hoodie's just cropped above the logo and the wet suit's logo's covered by clothes. She's about 12, so a lil older than Ash and does not let him forget it.

For Psyduck, I wanted to make him a lil fluffier and ugly-duckling + incorporate the three lil sprout hairs he's got a lil more to suit the style. He also has a neck now, you just can't see it super well here. He's just a fluffy lil duck who hurt a lot. Poor lil guy :((

Brock was pretty straight forward, I kinda wanted to reference his Sygna Suit from Masters with pants and a tank top, but made the pants into cargo pants that can be unzipped into shorts (he's thinks its the coolest thing in the world. He wears hiking boots to go over rougher terrain as a Rock-type Leader and hunt for fossils bc I like that aspect of his game characterization so I carried it over here, and he wears an armband with Pewter Gym branding. His tiny lil facial hairs are all he can grow at the moment bc he's still like 15 as usual, but he thinks it makes him look ~Older, Maturer & More Sophisticated~ so refuses to shave it.

I wanted to incorporate a lil more Geode Dude into Geodude so I changed his colours a bit and added parts where the outer layers of the rock have kinda chipped away in battles to reveal the crystal underneath + added the eyebrows from Alolan Geodude. I imagine it's like, the more outer layer gets chipped away from a Geodude, the closer they get to evolution. I do not at all know what this world's Graveller or Golem would look like but I think I'd canonise the theory of Machoke and Graveller taking aspects of the other when traded and make them kinda like Karrablast and Shelmet in a way.

Broad plot strokes are just these guys would exist in a version of the indigo league w an expanded kanto dex to include all related mons + variants, so stuff like Electivire and Annihilape and Alolan Exeggcutor would exist in there without much fanfare of ~Woahhhh Newly Discovered Pokemon~. Regional variants would be found on the Sevii Islands. Maybe there'd be small type changes too idk. Like pure Rock Geodude that gain Ground on evolution bc Gravel-ler. idk who knows I'm just spitballin. Essentially just a lil more closely following the Game's story, I guess. Less wacky loose adaptation stuff from Indigo League. Not bc I don't like that stuff, just bc it's not what I'd do.

I figure like, there'd be an interlude short arc that takes place in the Sevii Islands just after the Vermillion Gym where Ash would catch a Galarian Farfetch'd and all forms of Paldean Tauros instead of like, 100 Kantonian Tauros, and be introduced to Legendary Pokemon through a quest to track down the Galarian Legendary birds (then find out others can be found back in Kanto). Naturally he'd use the PC system (maybe adapted as some kind of daycare or something, or maybe just a teleporter to Oak's lab like the main anime) and have a couple more than 6 team members to rotate out as needed. Also. Mega Evolution would be a factor bc I think it'd be cool, so Ash gets to Mega Evolve Charizard into Mega Charizard Y.

OH also just for funsies, I'd split the starters across the trio, so Ash gets Charmander, Misty gets Squirtle and Brock gets Bulbasaur.

Basically Ash would end up with more or less the same team from the original series, but with added Annihilape, Sirfetch'd, Paldean Tauros and Mega Charizard Y. I also think I'd add Dragonite from Journeys and make his Gengar the Haunter he befriended that would follow him in secret after helping him beat Sabrina and evolve in the Cinnabar Mansion + officially join his team there.

Squirtle would evolve into Wartortle with Misty and Bulbasaur would stay in the same stage with Brock like Ash's.

I'll come up with and probably draw everyone's main teams at some point later but. ya. that's my piece!

#pokemon #pokeani #ash ketchum #pokemon anime #misty #brock #pikachu #psyduck #geodude #i say we're just missing tr but i'll probably also do gary and prof oak and delia and stuff hehe #my art

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carsontumbleweed · 4 months

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So i know I don't shut up about wanting to rewrite clone high but I actually started to put some ideas together. (Only gotten tophers and harriets designs down that's why there's only them. Topher sucks at gym)

But when I started to redesign and rewrite I decided I wanted to go all out cause you know self indulgence

Usually redesigns and yeah I changed the news character a bit. Basically just an au? Sometimes I changed stuff about their designs I didn't even hate like I don't hate the idea of Harriet having poofy pink hair, I don't mind fridas design except the colors I guess, I don't hate tophers design at all but I kind of just ended up changing it anyway for fun so please please please don't see this as me just hating on season two I'm just very obsessed with season one

I didn't make this to particularly hate on season two or anything but I've just been so hyper fixated on clone high recently and rewriting this and putting ideas together for characters I love so much is just so fun?? Like I am so happy doing it I can't even explain it. At first I wasn't sure about actually doing it because some people like season 2 and I think there are alot of things wrong with it but its fine for people to enjoy it of course. But again I'm doing this for fun and mainly kinda self indulgence. Stimming like so much even typing about it ughhh.

So I started to put ideas together. Revamping the new characters in a way. Again please see this as a dumb au this is just my opinions and stuff

Harriet: I actually really enjoy Harriet(not the design) but I was for them to amp her up by a lot? She was quirky she was fun I guess. In the rewrite I took alot of inspo from Ocean from ride the cyclone. I wanted to make her more preppy, more of an overachiever. I imagine she can be a little annoying sometimes but that's the fun of it. I imagine she definitely still talking drama and stuff but she's actually a lot nicer than Cleo was s1(depending if you get on her good side)

Topher: Tophers already an alright written character at least at first before they make him into a plot device to be thrown away easily. Since Abes the main character I guess he'd get more time 'on screen'. He's definitely that weird kid stereotype but I wanted to amp up his meanness, a big thing with clone high is that their stereotypes of teens Abes the awkward teenage guy, Joans the angry emo girl, Cleos popular. So I wanted to go more into his mean aspect and make him kind of 'emo' in a way?? If I had to describe it best it'd be in a 'mom get out of my room!!!!' Sort of way. He makes Abe kind of miserable by being negative and mean and doesn't notice that he brings people down is probably the reason he doesn't have friends. Abe and tophers friendship will most likely be on and off depending on the 'episode' but Topher does end up having an infatuation with Abe despite that.(no the stuff in ep8 doesn't happen don't get me started on the writing) He's annoying about it though. very try hard. Average white male on reddit going 'its fine to kiss your only male friend cause its totally platonic, I'm just preparing to kiss for the women you know. ' the reason he doesn't admit he's gay is cause he thinks being a straight male ally makes him look good despite the fact he's just some annoying and pathetic loser. He also copies Abes homework and steals his stuff.

Abe: I absolutely despise the fact they made him say slurs in the first episode when Cleo Joan and jfk were all right there. S1 clone high condemned them for that too because it was a satire! They literally comment on how bad Cleo is and yet s2 switches that just because it doesn't like Abe. Do not get me wrong Abe is not some perfect angel but I even enjoy when he is frustrating and I hate how the writers just went with the fanon versions of the characters. Okay rant over. Abes still the mc and I do want to comment on how the perception of 'nice guys' have changed. He's not a bad guy, he's just some teenage boy trying to Get a girl though. In the rewrote Abe goes back to being nervous around his crushes(Joan) but he's Still figuring himself out if he truly loves joan(even in the ending cliffhanger he's still unsure!!) I think part of him would be mad that she slept with JFK but also way too awkward to really have an argument about it. Imagine sputtering and stammering and he ends the sentence with hm..... And stares at her longingly and yes there ill be a dumb misunderstanding trope and now she thinks he hates her.

Cleo: girls one of my favorites in season 1 because she's funny to watch however I really hate how its so ignored that she's a bigot to Gandhi and homeless and poor people and lets be real a lot of other people(on the website see how she treats marie curie). Cause she's like that. Something I like about it though is that I always felt it was making fun of HER for being dramatic and shallow, she's a satire of a popular girl who thinks that she's better than everyone and in my opinion she's mainly well written in that way(I do have some problems with the writing obviously but yk) i think I've already explained a little about what will happen to her. When she gets unfrozen, she loses her captain of the cheerleading squad she's no longer the lead if every club and she's no longer the queen bee, her cat dies, her boyfriend breaks up with her and leaves her crying on prom night, and eventually she gets cancelled for saying stuff. I think ill make her kind of become an outcast (it becomes so bad she even resorts to talking to Topher, though its mainly insulting) she actually goes a little crazy and ruins Abes car a little, modern tv dramas usually do go crazy with plots and 'crazy insane girls' is a fair trope so I thinks its a pretty fair thing to say. Also since toots is still dead she still shares a room with Joan. Cleos insanely bitter about it

Frida: fridas basically the cool girl sterotype. She doesn't say much but literally everyone adores her(at least the new clones) ill give her some stuff like she's the class president and she dies run against Abe. She actually has trouble finding meaning in her art cause its kind of bland and she thinks she's living up to her clone mother just fine. She doesn't get with Cleo just yet but this is early in the rewrite and I want to take things slow and let them flow naturally. fridas still friends with harriet, who manages her campaign and stuff and I want to go more into their dynamic.

Confucius: he's mainly the same for some parts, I wanted to make him more than just some stupid tiktok jokes thougjh. I also leaned into more if him being a bad person in a way? (Hint hint Confucius was very into morals) and he'll do just about anything to get clout and stay amount the popular kids. He's in a cringey on and off relayionship with Harriet (think like any highschool couple) they fight a lot but they usually get back together and make out. Its annoying for everyone

Joanfk: I've never been a huge joanfk fan to be honest but since I'm only going off s1 cause s2 joanfk is ooc and soooooo annoying to me. No they don't date immediately, to be honest JFK sleeps with every girl in the school and she was just another one off the list even if he did feel for her issues. Since Joan thinks Abe is mad at her, they do actually end up talking and at first Joan starts to go on about how that was a 'slut thing to do' JFK tries to reassure her and such not trying too much. I do want them to get together for a little bit, Joans probably not used to guys actually liking her so she's a little open to it? But their break up is alot different. I want to go full satire like JFK and her fight like siblings over stiff and they see it as less romantic and more as friends, JFKs very shocked when he actually doesn't want to kiss her and he's all like 'ew!!! I've never liked a girl platonically before!! What the fuck.' (As much as I'm alright with joanfk s1 wise I think liking someone for who they are is the bare minimum in a relationship, its great that JFK likes her for who she is but he also likes every girl for who they are because he's a manwhore and the idea of them being more of a brotp is more fun to me)

Ill still add kahlopatra maybe but slowburn. Cleo IS a bigot though she'll have to real development I'm not just gonna put them together too quickly.

Note if you noticed Topher looks more rat like that is on purpose rats did come over with Columbus in a way and they are also disease carriers. And no he's not skinnier its just more distributed

Forgit to mention a lot more historical jokes cause the fact that they're historical figures just makes everything funnier to me

That being said I kind of hate shipping in clone high cause I always felt it was more about comedy and character dynamics. Shipping is cool I guess but I don't like watching a show just to see two characters kiss

okay I'm done I'm free.

#clone high #clone high fanart #clone high topher #topher bus #abe lincoln #clone high cleo #clone high frida #clone high au #joanfk #clone high joan of arc #clone high joan #clone high jfk #JFK #clone high confucius #clone high harriet tubman #clone high Harriet #clone high abe #fanart #Obviously not ship art of harriet and Topher lolll

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jaiwritesgiantswoahh · 3 months

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g/t story for you!! (parts warning! this is part one!)

tobias walked down the hallway of the all-inclusive high school, trying his best to stay away from the human students as he made his way to his next period. although, he wasn't like the other giants walking by him.. this giant was part vampire. meaning he could walk in the sun, garlic didn't hurt him, and he actually likes the cross necklaces he sees. however... that does mean he has the hunger for blood like a vampire. usually he doesnt feed into this hunger; he eats lots of red meats and that usually keeps it down. however, at this moment, the vampire hadn't eaten any bloody foods in a good while, and he really was craving something better than just a steak.

but that would have to wait; he has to get to his class, of course!

as the bell rang and signalled the beginning of 4th period, the vampire giant sped up his walk, being nearly the only one in the hallways at this point. however, unbeknownst to him, there was a human girl full on running down the pathway, panting and desperately trying to reach her own 4th period before the late bell rang. as a human, her walking speed wasn't nearly as fast as a giant's, and since the school was built for a giant... she wasn't exactly making good time.

most students had the help of a giant friend to get them to class on time; the schedules were strategically arranged so that every human had at least one giant that shared their next period. today, however, the giant that was supposed to get Kiara to her next period was absent, and as much as she loathed walking.... she absolutely detested the only other giant that could get her to this class—

and that giant was tobias.

now, toby didn't have a track record of being mean. he simply kept to himself and would rather draw and listen to music than socialize. who needed people when he has his Rammstein? he actually didn't mind kiara. he, of course, wasn't exactly friends with her, but he didn't dislike her. she was one of those people who got along with anyone and everyone. so outgoing that she can light up a room with just her smile. so sweet that she can lift the spirits of anyone she graces with her presence.

and tobias just... doesn't. he's not that kind of person. he doesn't smile unless he has a reason to, and he doesn't know how to make someone happy.

but back to business.

kiara looked behind her briefly as she felt footsteps, nearly sighing in relief as she thought she felt a giant who could take her to her class. but as soon as her eyes landed on toby, the human female scoffed, finally stopping in her run.

"hey! toby!" kiara waved her arms as she watched the giant boy approach.

"hm?" tobias finally looked up from what he was doing, scanning the ground for a sign of life nearby. as soon as he saw kiara... the girl who was sweet to everyone except him.. he stopped, looking down with a gentle look. "can i.. help you, kiara?" the teen slipped his black and purple headphones off his head, letting them rest around his neck to give kiara his full attention.

kiara seemed to tense under the gaze of the giant. she wasnt afraid of him hurting her... but she couldn't help but admit that he's terrifying. his shoulder length, dark brown hair resting above the orange colored eyes that nearly pierced her soul gave him a bit of a shaggy, monstrous look. his hair was teased a little, giving it a poofy effect while still looking maintained and presentable. unlike his dark red sweater, that had mysterious stains and perpetually snagged threads on it, complimented by his ripped, black jeans and combat boots. he wore various chains, a couple pentants looped into the chains around his neck, and a pair of silver cross earrings hanging from his pointed ears. hidden behind his round lips were a pair of sharp fangs where normal canines should be, as well as a pointed tongue with a single stud piered into it.

"y-y.. um-" kiara choked out as she tried to form a sentance, distracted by his rugged appearance. "are you going to mr. bates's class next?" she managed to spit out a full sentence without stuttering, but she stroked her long ginger hair in anxiety.

"uh, yeah. why? need a ride?" tobias suddenly kneeled down, causing kiara to stumble backwards, nearly tripping on her black flats.

at this, toby reached forward, but stopped short, showing her his open palm that seemed ready to snatch her up. his pale, slender fingers retracted when she regained her footing, but he still seemed ready to catch her if she needed it.

"i-i do! please.." kiara muttered, averting her soft, light blue eyes from his bright amber colored ones.

"alright.. wanna, uh.." before finishing his sentence, toby laid his hand flat in front of kiara, giving her the option to climb on by herself in favor of just picking her up.

kiara stared at his palm for a moment, but slowly took a deep, prepatory breath and stepped closer to the massive, offending appendage.

#g/t #giant/tiny #gentle giant #g/t fearplay #unintentional fearplay #angst with a happy ending #angst #light angst #vampire #giant vampire #tiny #emo boy go brr #part one #two part series

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clockwork-freminet · 7 months

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"Say, what do you think of this look?" The usual flower decorations in her hair had now been replaced by the romaritime flower he gifted her earlier.

"Do I fit in like this?" The people of Fontaine definitely had a unique sense of fashion. While those frilly, poofy dresses many of the women on the street wear did not seem ideal for combat, Lumine figured she would at least decorate her hair with a native flower.

Freminet paused for a moment, eyes on the flower in her hair. He was somewhat surprised she really kept it. "You... You look nice," he said. "Sorry... I'm- I'm not good with compliments. But you really do."

"... N-not many people wear romaritime flowers, since they're usually found underwater. They're really pretty, though. So... Uhm... I-it might make you stand out more. But not in a bad way."

#genshin impact #asks #lumine #freminet #freminet speaks

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ashtxeman · 1 year

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*crashes through wall* got any aran hcs?

This post smells like BO, I think...

Aran is a strange lad to be sure. Everyone thinks he's a chaotic mess and a general nuisance, but in reality he's actually very chill! If you catch him on his own he's way quieter, albeit still loud but at least a bearable amount. He'll also crack jokes, have a good laugh, and if you're lucky he won't even say anything violent.

His top 'enemies' are Don, Narcis and Macho. 'Enemies' as in his favourite victims for pranks and other assorted Aran activities.. such as stealing Don's toupee and sticking it on a dog, replacing Narcis' shampoo with blended bananas or doing whatever the hell he feels like to Macho because Macho's too dull to predict anything. Not to mention all three of them have the best reactions, Don cusses him out in Spanish, Narcis cusses him out with some very creative nonsensical insults and Macho either gets confused or runs off screaming to Sandman.

Aran has a surprising amount of pets. Two weasels called Tom and Jerry (reference intended), a cat called Lucky, and a few lizards named Burren, Porter, Druid and Mulligan (all names of Irish pubs that Aran has definitely been to).

Aran is the biggest pansexual you'll ever see. He'll take anybody who comes his way, and then move on right after. The longest relationship he ever had lasted a week, and that was because he was in a coma for half of that week and couldn't tell her that he wanted to break up. The moment he woke up he asked her for a fiver and then went home and never spoke to her again. He continues to just take whatever comes along, but maybe beneath all of it he wants to find someone who can stay.

Aran got arrested for trying to fight a giant inflatable Santa when he got drunk, he spent a week in jail because he let all the animals out of a petting zoo, and another time he was arrested for illegally owning a pigeon (he called it Sky-Rat, when it was taken away he almost cried).

On a more serious note, he's been charged with assault 2 times because of some tedious fights.

Aran has some peculiar scars. He has a scar resembling a '7' on his chest because a fishing hook got caught on him whilst he was out with his Dad, but he also has one on his thigh because he tried to dive off a cliff and knocked himself on a rock.

He has one sibling, a younger sister named Erin. Their Mum, Fiona, thought it would be cute to give them similar names but they both hate it.

His Mum is in prison and his Dad is long gone, so he looks after Erin on his own.

His birthday is January 8th, the release date of the first Leprechaun movie.

Of course Aran can't drive. He's had his licence confiscated on five seperate occassions, but that doesn't stop him from finding a way to hop behind the wheel anyway.. just don't hop behind the wheel with him because you will either break something or die.

He is an absolute master at hiding pain. Usually he doesn't mind a bit of a sting but when things get bad (which they do), he hates to show it. There's a reason for it, that being..

He's deathly afraid of doctors.

Aran sneaks rides to Hondo's house so they can hang out together, plus he gets along well with Hondo's cat because they're both little bastards.

Huge anime fan. Similar to pain, he's a master at hiding it.

A very skilled artist! Not that he'd let anybody see his work..

He's a massive fan of fluffy pillows. There's nothing better than going home after a long day of making everybody elses day worse and snuggling into a poofy mass.

When his hair isn't in a ponytail he pretty much has a mullet.

Most of the time he has a four-leaf clover earing on his right ear, it's part of his brand.

He has a nickname for every boxer, albeit very uncreative ones. Examples include 'Cats' for Tiger and 'Bubbles' for Soda.

In the A-Bracket, Aran gets along best with Tiger and Hondo. His rival is Don.

In the B-Bracket, Aran gets along best with.. none of them, he doesn't go near them much because they smell like Narcis, who is of course his rival.

#punch out #aran ryan #headcanons #it shouldnt be as fun to write hcs for aran as it is lol

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mauvelilywilliams · 4 months

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Writerblr Garden Advent Calendar Event: Found Family

I used today's prompt to write out a scene that would happen if Die and the others got stuck inside due to a snowstorm. And Die gets reminded that it's not just him against the world.

(Scene under the cut)

Die stormed around the littered loft, his footsteps echoing in the bleak, dirt-stained room with its cracking drywall. Only muffled by the sound of the heavy falling snow and the howling wind outside the broken window. A smell of cold, yellow must, and smoke filled the air. Die grabbed a fairly good sized piece of charcoal that had rolled out of the dying fire in the center of the room and threw it out the broken window at the sky. “Damn it!” Clause and Deirdre stood in the doorway to the loft. The darkness behind them partially hid the stairwell that was slowing gaining a thin sheet of ice in spots as the mist they had moments ago froze. Clause watched on in concern and Deirdre curled her lip in frustration at Die's actions. The angry man’s jet-black hair was wild from being tugged at and his brown eyes seemed darker than usual from his mood. Both siblings knew to tread carefully when he was like this. After a moment of standing awkwardly, trying to read the situation, Deirdre finally reached up and shoved her brother into the room. Clause stumbled his way into the loft and almost tripped over a broken woven basket. Die didn’t look over, but his brief pause gave away that he at least noticed he wasn’t alone. Clause tried to make eye contact, but Die wasn’t having any of it. So, Clause busied himself with looking for something in the room. Deirdre walked in behind Clause and made her way toward the fire that was practically nothing more than a coal sitting on sheet metal and bricks. The bits of smoke that it managed to kick out curled up toward the ceiling and a hole that had been broken out, exposing an old air duct. No one had any idea where the smoke was going from there but at least it wasn't gathering in the room. Die glanced over and glared at her, still trying to not look at Clause. “I don't want to hear anything about how this isn't helpful.” He huffed and angrily sat down next to the pitiful fire that was threatening to go out. Clause settled on grabbing a blanket and pulled it out from under a pile of clothes and a collection of acorn tops. He tossed it over the back of his shoulders and sat down next to Die. Which garnished a glare from Die before he looked away, trying to keep from looking Clause in the eyes. “Neither one of you have to stay with me,” Die grumbled. Clause took the blanket and tossed it over Die's shoulders too just before scooching a little closer to Die. “I'd like to stay with you, if that's okay.” Deirdre sat down next to the fire and tossed a few more pieces of wood on. Which started smoking horribly. The mist probably got them a bit wet on the outside. “Yeah, if we left, you'd probably do something stupid.” Die looked at Deirdre expecting her to be glaring at him or about to give some sort of lecture. But instead, she busied herself by checking the multiple hair ties in her ponytail, making sure her signature look of poofy black baubles went down her back correctly. Then he felt a bump on his shoulder. Die turned to see that Clause was smiling at him, brown eyes still worried but trying to be positive, and his shoulder against Die’s. “We're here with you, you know.” He pulled the blanket a bit tighter around Die and himself. Die felt the tension in his shoulders release. He couldn't even bother letting out a groan this time at their kindness. He glanced back at the fire and leaned in a little against Clause. “Stupid. The both of you.” Deirdre smirked, “Says the man who almost let the fire go out.”

#skyline spirits #twgcalendar #writeblrgarden

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daddy-rito · 6 months

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Violet Undertones 2 (Abigail x OC)

『　°this feeling gets old, and so do your eyes。』

fandom: stardew valley contains: m!farmer, autistic farmer, hybrid (half-demon) farmer, some mentions of in-game relationships that are semi-spoilers [previous] [next]

Friday, was it? Would Mick even have the time for that? Oh, well. Gonna have to meet everyone sooner or later, I guess. I hope I didn’t come off as weird.

Even with a full night's rest, another day went by with something in Mick’s body hurting. His head pounded during the entire trip to the general store, and he was lucky to get more than a few words out talking to that purple-haired girl. At least it wasn’t Joja Mart. The 60 hertz buzz from the lights rubbing his ears the wrong way, the cool dry air that always chilled him a little too much even though he liked cold weather—one thing after the other just piled onto him, scattered his thoughts, and messed with his senses more and more until they pushed him to the edge of vomiting. He didn’t want any part of it. He couldn’t take his mind off of the purple-haired girl—Abigail was her name, wasn’t it?—but not in any sort of good way. She was the one that decided to approach him? Whenever someone did that to Mick, they never had good intentions. And that pep in her voice. Something about it drew Mick to it like a moth to a flame, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had some sort of hidden intentions from it. Why did he even think that in the first place? He was supposed to turn over a new leaf with Pops’ farm. Why would anyone even think to do that when he’s yet to even introduce himself? Why did he always have so many questions about the world around him? He couldn’t ask anymore questions. He needed to answer them. ... The Stardrop Saloon. Mick just had to tell that girl he’d meet her there that Friday. He hated most social gatherings for as long as he could remember. Always too loud. Always too much going on. His old coworkers knew this. They’d always ask him why he tagged along with them for things like casual meetups, and Mick would always shrug their questions off. Deep down, he didn’t know either. Fear of missing out, wanting not to feel alone, wanting to get out of his comfort zone even though he hated it, maybe even watching the chaos melt itself into an odd serenity—whatever it was, he couldn’t get himself to stop.

Opening the door, the saloon seemed a lot quieter than the bars Mick was used to in the city. Most of his initial fears managed to dissipate, although he still kept his guard up. At least this place was a lot less likely to overwhelm him. Of course, it had the usual trademarks of a place people visited to drink, only this time Mick could put names on its patrons. Looking to his right, he noticed the girl, perched on a couch next to a billiards table with what seemed to be her two friends, both of them guys. One of them was blonde with a poofy mullet, donning a denim jacket and band shirt of a band Mick actually liked, all while brimming with energy. The other, a bit pale, a lot more spacey, and opting for a simple hoodie. Amid the commotion of the saloon, Mick could make out a conversation the two seemed to be having over a game of 8-ball: “You think he’s into music?”

“We’ve been over this before, Sam. Not everyone you meet’s gonna be into music.”

“And what if he does? It’d be so fuckin’ cool. I’m gonna—” “No, Sam, no inviting him into the band. Not unless he wants to.”

Mick’s heart jumped ever so slightly at hearing that, but he needed to save his excitement for now. They could be talking about someone else, for all he knew. He at least needed to get his head adjusted to this place first so that he didn’t come off as—

“Hey, Mick! Over here!”

Shit. She noticed me already? He sauntered over to where the girl was, trying his damndest not to come off as an awkward mess. Don’t fidget too much. Maintain eye contact. You know the drill by now. “Abigail, was it? I’m so sorry, I’m not that good with names.”

Abigail didn’t seem to care, giving him a nod. “Yup, that’s me. Come have a seat, you gotta tell me about how the farm’s going.”

“Well, shit, what is there to talk about?” Good. Something that wasn’t small talk. Mick could work with that, popping a few coins into a nearby vending machine to get a soda and plopping himself down on the couch. “There isn’t much to write home about aside from clearing all the trees and brush."

Abigail allowed herself a smirk. "I probably should've expected as much. From what I hear, your grandpa left that abandoned for who knows how long..."

That voice.

Her voice.

It was doing it again.

Drawing him in.

Dropping his guard.

Making him forget about the rest of the world.

Talking had helped Mick clear his nerves for the next few minutes, which made things easier when Abigail decided to shift the conversation. “...although part of me is gonna miss just wandering around in those fields by myself. Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention, have you said hi to Sam and Seb yet?—”

Before Abigail could finish her sentence, the blonde dude launched himself and crashed onto the couch between her and Mick, beaming his focus onto the latter. “How exactly can you just pass by people like us and not say so much as hello? You can call me Sam, Sammy, whatever you want, and that lanky brooding guy who just whooped my ass at pool is Sebastian.” Mick could instantly feel himself feeding off of Sam’s energy, unable to stop himself from plastering a smile on his face. “Why don’t you go play a round with him? Maybe someone here could actually beat him.”

Mick couldn’t help but chuckle. "Nah, man, I—"

"C'mon, why not? Got anything better to do on a Friday night?" Mick couldn't deny the energy Sam gave him forever. Letting out a chuckle, he set his soda down to help Sebastian set up another game of 8-ball. For the first time in a while, a place as hectic as a bar didn’t overwhelm him, and told him a lot of how his time in the valley was going to be.

Maybe things weren’t gonna be so bad.

... A/N: am i gonna make the part titles deftones references? perhaps. anyway school + writer's block has been a bruh moment so updates aren't gonna be as frequent as i'd like them to.

idk if i made mick's autism clear enough with his sensory issues and roadblocks with talking to other people, so if any fellow nd folk can help me, that'd be much appreciated.

hope y'all enjoy, and here's to hoping i'll get part 3 out sometime soon!

[previous] [next]

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv farmer #sdv fanfic #sdv fandom #sdv abigail #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #sdv ocs #stardew oc #sdv oc #stardew valley oc

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noperopesaredope · 1 year

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So I Changed Marmo’s Outfit-

The other day, I made a post that was basically me thirsting over Marmo (Doki Doki Precure), and I mention the fact that while she is gorgeous, her outfit is toeing the line between good and bad.

The other night, I decided to analyze exactly why this outfit didn’t work, and possible ways to fix it.

The first problem is the coat thing. The sleeve is a very cool feature and makes the outfit feel unique, making her stand out quite well. The collar is also shaped in a way that draws attention to her face. So when your eyes go to her sleeve, they end up traveling up to the collar, and then her face. Looking at the sleeve can also draw you to her hands, depending on the angle, and that can be very important is she uses that hand for energy blast or other fighting stuff, because your eye will be drawn there whenever her she’s in a fighting stance. So the coat appears good- at first. However, the coat should probably have ended at the bottom of her…*ahem* chest area. Instead, it goes all the way down and behind(?) her at a very awkward angle. It could have just gone straight down or even diverged at a 45 degree angle, but instead it ended up being weird and confusing.

The other most major problem is the pattern of the dress. It seems that the jacket was meant to be the biggest feature of her design besides her hat, which draw your eyes towards her face. But the stripes on the dress mess this up. It seems they were trying to highlight her breast, with two of the lines going around the edges of said breast. But then two of the other lines go downwards to draw attention to her hips. The stripes going in different directions while also not being randomized enough to make sense, so it ends up looking strange. On top of this, these lines are bright red, a very eye catching color often used to grab your attention. So instead of having your attention travel to and stay on the most important features, the bright colors and weird stripes end up confusing your brain and your eyes will go all over the place.

These three things are what makes the outfit feel weird and all over the place. I don’t think the character design is bad, nor do I think I know better than the original designers. I actually like a lot of the elements of the original design. I just feel like the execution is slightly off.

Because of this, I decided to do a small redesign of her outfit. This pic isn’t really a good drawing, it’s just me retracing her character reference sheet and changing parts of the outfit. Note that I didn’t add everything that I want to keep in there. I didn’t draw her long, beautiful hair (I really didn’t feel like putting in the effort), but I still think she should keep it. The neck up is where her OG design truly shines. I also didn’t draw her boots because they were already good and I didn’t feel like drawing them either.

So here’s the redesigned outfit:

Underneath the jacket is a dress thing. During at least one important battle, she will probably take off her jacket to reveal her sexy badass battle outfit.

The part of the dress you can see while she’s wearing the jacket may require a bit more detail, however, the main idea is drawing your eyes up to her jacket and then face, so it might be better to add more detail to the shape/coloration of the jacket in order for it to draw more attention. Then again, her side bangs are usually bigger/poofy-er, so if those stand out more, then it might work better. There’s also the possibility that because this sketch as a whole is less detailed in might be a problem. I might just consider adding more detail to the jacket and making it reach the middle of her waist rather than just her upper chest.

But I think it might all work if I actually drew her hair. So that might be better.

Anyways, that’s my basic redesign of my girl. If you think something else might work slightly better or have something to add, please feel free to comment or reblog with your own sketch. I also might put out a few alternate sketch ideas later. Hope you like it.

#marmo #precure doki doki #precure #anime #magical girl #anime villain #female villains #villain #Character Design #character analysis #redesign #character redesign #design #outfit design #character outfits #design analysis #glitter force #glitter force doki doki

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primatechnosynthpop · 8 months

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If You Push Them Too Hard, They're Going To Break

Part 1

It all started with Mel.

She ran up to them on the street one day grinning like they'd never seen before, wearing a multicoloured poofy dress that looked like it belonged to a princess in a fantasy story. The whole outfit was bedazzled with dozens of shiny pink hearts. The most prominent of these hearts was a gemstone on her breast, with little wings on it and frilly white ribbon surrounding it like a valentine. In one hand she carried a giant hammer like it weighed nothing. She showed up looking like that and had the audacity to ask with a coy giggle,

"So... do you notice anything different about me?"

"...Yeah," Bret said, confused and a bit unnerved as he looked her up and down. Her getup was a lot to take in. "You've got new clothes and a big hammer."

"Sure, there's that, but anything else?" She set the hammer down and fluffed up her hair, which was decorated with a cutesy ornament, all without taking her glimmering eyes and wolfish grin off of them for a second. "Do I seem more beautiful or anything? Like maybe you're suddenly seeing me in a whole new light, having feelings you never would have anticipated...?"

"No, not really," Bret said honestly.

"I see you in the new light of having a giant hammer," Jemaine put in. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's a bit odd."

The look of shock that flashed across Mel's face was actually jarring. She froze in place with her hands still playing with her hair, and after a second that seemed to stretch on for at least five, her breath audibly quickened and her eyes began flicking back and forth between them as if searching for something that wasn't there.

"B-but you've gotta feel something towards me now, right, guys?" she asked, an edge of desperation creeping into her tone. "Something you never felt before like, say, uncontrollable maddening love?"

Without thinking better of it, Bret and Jemaine made faces of disgust and shook their heads at that.

"No, not at all."

"And the rule about us not dating married fans still stands, by the way, so..."

"...Oh..."

Mel's whole body had visibly deflated, and her voice along with it, as her sigh was quiet and resigned. The fairy tale dress dissolved off her in a dull shimmer, leaving her in her usual street clothes. She muttered a reluctant goodbye to them, turned around, and trudged back to the car where Doug was waiting for her. Bret and Jemaine just watched, not sure whether to be more dumbfounded by the magically disappearing clothes and hammer or by Mel voluntarily ending an interaction with them so quickly. They weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, so when she gave up and left them alone they only stood there pondering the strangeness of it all for a few seconds before shrugging and carrying on their way.

That meant they didn't hear the conversation Mel had upon climbing into the car and slamming the door. Doug turned to her to offer a sympathetic comment, but it was one of many moments where her husband may as well not have existed-- no, her attention was on the furry white alien blinking innocently at her from the backseat.

"You tricked me," she snarled through the tears that were pressing against her eyes. "You said my wish would come true, and I wished for Jemaine and Bret to fall madly in love with me, and they haven't!"

She punctuated the accusation by giving the seatbelt a sharp tug down to fasten it. Kyubey just licked its paw, unbothered.

"But that's not what I wanted!" Mel's voice broke into a choked sob as she dug her nails into the upholstery. "It should have been obvious that I was talking about my favourite band ever, not some random guys I don't even know."

"If she wanted someone else to substitute for Bret and Jemaine, she's already got me for that," Doug put in wryly, in a poorly timed attempt to lighten the mood a little. He couldn't even see Kyubey, and would have thought his wife had finally had a complete mental break having these one-sided conversations if it wasn't for the fact that she had magic powers now.

Pointedly ignoring her husband's remark, Mel slumped back in her seat and said in a quiet voice thick with tears, "And what do you mean I don't have enough potential to make them fall in love with me? They could love me... they probably already do deep down and just-- just can't admit it..."

She trailed off, feeble words giving into a sad little hiccup. She didn't even believe what she was saying. If she really thought her idols already felt that way about her, she wouldn't have needed to make a wish. But to think she had a chance, a real chance to get everything she wanted, only to have it ripped away from her... it made her want to curse Kyubey for tricking her, curse Bret and Jemaine for not loving her, curse Doug for not being them. She wanted to curse everyone.

"Ugh, I feel terrible," she sniffed. Her hands clenched at her sides, one of them around her soul gem. "Doug, can you drive me downtown? I sensed a witch there earlier. I need to fight to blow off some steam."

Kyubey watched idly from the backseat. It said nothing about the dark blotches dancing across Mel's soul gem until they blotted out the pink. After all, she hadn't asked.

The next time Flight of the Conchords had a gig, Mel wasn't in attendance, which meant nobody was in attendance. The gig after that was an unwilling charity stint (Murray made it sound like they were going to get paid) at a hospital cafeteria. Mel wasn't there either. Partway through that one, a teenager with bandaged hands got up, threw a music player at them with an enraged shout, and stormed out. The sharp corner of the music player happened to hit Bret right in the eye, and he was temporarily without depth perception for the rest of the performance.

Later that evening, while Bret pressed an icepack to his eye and Jemaine turned up the volume on the tv to drown out his whining about how much it hurt, their door rattled and Eugene came in holding a squirming white catlike creature under one arm.

"I'm just doing a little animal control," the landlord said. He held the cat-ish thing up by its scruff and waved it around in their direction. "I found this roaming around the halls. Is it either of yours? You know you're not supposed to have pets here."

"No, it's not ours," Jemaine told him. "We couldn't afford to look after a pet, Bret--" He said that rather pointedly, and Bret pouted because the goldfish thing was one time. "Besides, I'm allergic to cats."

"It's really cute, though," Bret said. He straightened up from his anguished lounging position and lowered the ice pack from his eye so he could get a better look at it. "I'm not sure it is a cat, even. It looks odd. I wonder what breed it is."

Eugene shrugged, not seeming like he cared much. "Well, I've asked around, and you're the first ones who've been able to see that I'm holding anything. So, even if you say it's not yours, I think it might be yours now." He swung him arm back like he was bowling and tossed the little animal toward them. It let him do so without resistance. "Be sure to have it out of your apartment by next week, or I'm gonna have to charge you for it. Oh, and don't forget, your rent's due on Thursday."

Jemaine flinched when their landlord threw the cat. He scrambled backward across the couch to its far corner, knocking the remote to the floor and rudely jostling Bret in the process. Bret glared at him. But Jemaine's reaction was (mostly) justified-- it was a severe allergy. If cat fur got within five feet of him, his face would start to swell up and his throat would constrict. At least that's what he always said would happen. He'd made sure not to go within five feet of a cat for as long as he could remember.

Lucky for him, the creature landed neatly on all fours a good distance from the couch. It stared up at them with a pair of gleaming red eyes that sent a shiver down Jemaine's spine. Cat allergy or not-- and looking at it up close, he had the inclination that Bret was right and this wasn't a cat at all-- this thing was just creepy. It felt like it was staring right at his soul.

Bret, meanwhile, practically radiated excitement and delight. He hopped off the couch, all eye pain forgotten, and held out his hands, making little kissy noises to lure the creature over. It complied, trotting daintily to his feet and rubbing up against his ankles. Jemaine hoisted himself precariously onto the back of the couch to keep as much space between himself and the animal as possible while Bret cooed at it and scratched it behind the ears.

"We're not keeping it, Bret." Jemaine's voice held a warning tone. "It probably belongs to someone else in the building anyway. Wouldn't be right to steal a creepy mutant cat from someone."

"Aw, I know, I know," Bret said in a voice that didn't sound like he knew at all. Jemaine wasn't convinced that Bret had considered a single ramification in his life. "I wonder who you belong to," he addressed the animal, which had now rolled over onto its back for belly rubs.

To his surprise and Jemaine's abject terror, the animal responded, not out loud but with telepathy. <Your landlord was mistaken. I'm known as Kyubey, and despite my appearance, I am not a domesticated animal.>

"Woah, you talk?" Bret asked. "That's amazing. I've never met a real animal that talked before. I've only seen them in cartoons. And there's parrots, but I've never met one in real life."

"What, you're from space?" Jemaine asked warily.

"Have you met David Bowie?" Bret asked.

<I have met many notable figures in human history. In fact, many of them owe their achievements to making contracts with me.> Now that the conversation was getting serious, Kyubey stopped rolling around and sat up to face Bret. Jemaine didn't move from the top of the couch and remained tense. <Although the two of you are not the demographic I normally approach, I have been branching out more lately, and you two seem like your lives could benefit from my assistance.>

"What's a mutant space cat going to help us out with?" Jemaine muttered. "I don't suppose you're going to offer us a record deal."

"Wait, really?" Bret asked, incredulous. His head was already spinning from the fact that this adorable ball of fur was from space and had met Bowie, and now it was saying they could actually become famous? That sounded way too good to be true.

<Yes, really. Of course, the wish comes as part of a contract. You would be granted magical power in exchange for being tasked with fighting witches.>

At this point, Jemaine slid slowly off the back of the couch and to the floor, if only because staying up there was getting uncomfortable. He edged toward Kyubey, still tense, and cringing in anticipation of an allergic reaction that never came. At this point it was obvious they weren't dealing with a cat here. But what exactly they were dealing with, he was still unsure.

"Aren't witches the ones with magical powers?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "I think you're mixing it up. If we get magical powers, then we'd become witches. Why would witches fight other witches?"

The long tendrils hanging down from Kyubey's ears pricked with what might have been alarm, only to relax again as it gave an uncannily humanlike shake of its head. <You misunderstand. Witches are not magical humans, but rather monsters born from curses and despair. They feed on humans, and only those who've made contracts with me can defeat them.>

"Ah, is that so?" Jemaine muttered. He had a hard time wrapping his head around that. "I don't know that I want to be tasked with fighting witches. We're already quite busy with our band."

"We're not really," Bret interjected. Most of what Kyubey had just said had gone in one ear and out the other for him, because he was still caught up in the novelty of having a cute talking animal offering them a wish. "We've got loads of free time."

"Yes, but we like to spend that free time doing what we like," Jemaine shot back. "Like sitting down and watching tv and sleeping. And band practice."

"What kind of wishes did you say you could grant again?" Bret asked, pointedly ignoring his bandmate.

"Wow, did you hear that? Anything our heart desires, Jemaine."

"Yes, Bret, I heard. In my head and not my ears, which is where I like to hear things."

"So you could make us rich and famous, then."

"Or get us girlfriends."

"Or a new cup so we don't have to keep using Jemaine's roster."

While Bret carried on animatedly chatting with Kyubey, Jemaine crossed his arms with a huff and turned away. Obviously Bret wasn't going to listen to reason here. If Bret wanted to sign away his free time to hunting witches in exchange for a wish, fine. (Not fine at all, actually, but it didn't look like he'd be able to stop him at this rate.) But Jemaine refused to be dragged into it.

"Okay, item one... Bret, stop fiddling with that and pay attention."

"Mm?" Blinking, Bret glanced up from the egg-shaped gem he was turning over in his hands. It was a warm reddish-brown hue, and had the emblem of an ambiguous animal head at the top. "Oh, sorry, Murray."

Murray sighed in exasperation. He opened his mouth looking like he was going to chide Bret only to break off into a gasp, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Oh! Bret, is that a soul gem?"

"Yeah, it is," he said with a smile, pleasantly surprised that their manager knew what a soul gem was. He held it up so Murray could get a better look at it. "'S pretty cool, huh?"

"How do you know what a soul gem is?" Jemaine asked, leaning back in his seat warily with his arms crossed and one eyebrow arched. "Have you met Kyubey before?"

Murray's eyes darted around the office as if to check if anyone was listening in, tongue flicking anxiously around his mouth. "Well, I haven't told you this before-- we're supposed to keep it a secret from ordinary humans, so I'm told--" He leaned in towards Bret, dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. Jemaine leaned forward so he could hear too. "But I've been a magical girl for a while now."

"You have?"

"Yes, for over a month!" Murray grinned, looking quite pleased with himself. Sure enough, now that they looked, there was a ring on his finger with a dull yellow-orange gem set into it. "It's been tricky balancing that on top of my other jobs, but it's important work."

"Is that why we've had even fewer gigs than usual?" Jemaine asked. "Because you've been too busy running around hunting witches to manage us properly?"

"I just said it's important work, Jemaine!" Murray told him sternly. "Stopping innocent people from being lured into labyrinths and devoured takes priority over managing a band."

"What did you wish for?" Bret asked, leaning forward with interest.

Murray leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well, I can't tell you that, can I? You know what they say, if you tell someone your wish it won't come true."

Just then, Kyubey trotted in from seemingly nowhere and jumped up onto Murray's desk. Bret brightened at its unexpected presence. Jemaine shuddered and pushed his chair as far from the desk as he could get until his back was pressed against the wall.

"Oh. Well, then, I'll tell you," Murray said. "I wished to cure Toby's hip dysplasia. He's good as new now."

Neither Bret nor Jemaine had remembered Murray somberly telling them about his dog's medical condition a couple months ago. Bret nodded like he knew what he was talking about anyway, though the vacant look in his eyes gave away that he didn't. Jemaine didn't bother with the pretense and just sulked.

"You could've wished for us to get more gigs."

Murray frowned. "Not everything is about you, Jemaine. You know how important Toby is to me, and I couldn't afford to pay for his medical bills since Shelly cut me off from the joint account again."

"You could have wished to fix your marriage, maybe," Bret suggested helpfully.

"Yes, well, what's done is done," Murray said in the brisk clipped tone of someone who realized just that morning that he could have made a wish like that and was trying very hard not to let it haunt him. "How about you, Bret?" he asked to change the subject. "What did old Kyubey do for you, eh?"

As soon as he asked, Jemaine tilted his head back and buried his face in his hands to muffle a groan of pained exasperation. Every time he remembered what Bret had wished for a few days prior, he wanted to beat either his bandmate's head or his own into a wall.

"I wished that I could breathe in outer space," Bret said proudly, like it was a really clever thing he'd come up with.

Murray's brow crinkled. "Breathe in space? What for?"

"Well, you know, Kyubey mentioned how he'd met Bowie--" Bret angled his head toward the alien in question-- "And it got me thinking, if I ever want to go out there and meet him too, I'd better take precautions in case my helmet comes off."

"I told you David Bowie doesn't actually live in outer space," Jemaine grumbled through his hands. "And even if he did, how would we get up there? We're not astronauts. We haven't got a spaceship."

"Well, maybe that could be your wish," Bret suggested. "For us to have a spaceship."

"Absolutely not. I'm not going to make a contract, for one--"

"Aw, but you should."

"I'm not, and even if I did, it wouldn't be to help you out of a problem you created."

While the band bickered, Murray took a moment to look over his schedule. He'd started putting his magical girl notes on the same pages as his band notes to conserve paper, and while he didn't have any gigs or other good news lined up for the guys, he had sensed a few witches and familiars in the area lately. Maybe he could distract them from the lack of band-related prospects by turning this band meeting into more of a magical girl meeting.

"How about this, guys?" he piped up, tapping a pen against his schedule where he'd written some info on a familiar he'd spotted roaming about recently. "We go on a witch hunt together. That would be exciting, mm?"

"I don't--" Jemaine started to say, but Murray carried on without letting him get a word in.

"Tonight, then. It's settled. Bret, we can see how powerful you are, see if maybe I can give you some veteran tips from one magical girl to another--" Bret's brow furrowed at that, because a little over a month didn't sound like much of a veteran to him, and he didn't care for being called a magical girl anyway-- "And Jemaine, maybe you'll be inspired to make a contract too. Imagine that-- a novelty band made up entirely of magical girls! That would draw in a crowd, eh, guys?"

Bret screwed his lips to the side and contemplated the idea, doubtful. Jemaine didn't bother pointing out that most people didn't know magical girls existed. Or that the term "magical girls" usually applied to girls and not adult men. Sometimes when Murray got onto something you just had to go along with it.

The park was cold and empty at night. The steel frames of a children's slide and swingset gave off an eerie silver glow in the moonlight. A motion-activated streetlight flickered on as the three figures making their way down the cobblestone path stepped beneath its halo. There was a missing poster taped to the streetlight, but the light it cast was too dim to make out the face, and they weren't paying attention to it anyway. No, they were paying attention to the strange entity buzzing in circles high above their heads.

"I don't think this is a witch."

Murray paused with his soul gem raised halfway up in the air, about to transform. He cast a glare over his shoulder at Jemaine, who hung several paces back with his hands in his pockets. "Honestly, Jemaine, I've about had it with you and your negative attitude today."

"He's right, though," Bret pointed out. He was standing closer to Murray, also ready to transform-- or at least he had been, but now he was having second thoughts. "It's a familiar. They feel different when you sense them compared to witches."

"You said you were going to hunt a witch," Jemaine said. "This isn't a witch. It's not going to drop a grief seed."

"Right, well... I don't suppose you realize this, but there are plenty of other magical girls in this city, and they can be very territorial," Murray told them. He didn't say as much, but he'd found that out the hard way by being repeatedly attacked by some extremely aggressive teenage girls over the last month. "They're all after the same witches. But if we hunt familiars we can still save lives without getting wrapped up in any nasty competition."

"But I won't be able to purify my soul gem," Bret said, regarding the gem in question with a pout. Its glow was only ever-so-slightly diluted since all he'd done with his magic so far was transform and detransform a few times and, much to Jemaine's chagrin, fire off some practice shots with his weapon. "We need grief seeds for that. Kyubey explained it all the other day."

"Well, Bret, if you don't want to take part in this hunt then you can go stand and watch with Jemaine over there," Murray told him with a curt wave of his head. Then, dropping into a somewhat wobbly defensive stance: "Ah, here comes the familiar now!"

Sure enough, a dull buzzing in the air grew louder and a scribbly-looking black mass swooped towards them. It was about half the size of a person, with knives and forks protruding from within it with all the pointy bits sticking out and yet dripping an inky ichor as though it had been stabbed. It gave off an odour halfway between tobacco and an ambiguous alcohol.

Jemaine took a few extra steps back at its approach, eyes widening and eyebrows raising, with a flat but emphatic "woah." Bret, who had sensed the presence of witches and familiars throughout the city since contracting but hadn't felt like getting into fights with them, had a more subdued reaction but similarly ducked out of the way. He didn't want to waste his magic on a fight that he wouldn't get anything out of.

Murray tossed his soul gem in the air, and in a shower of sparkles and ribbons his magical girl outfit took shape around him. And yes, despite none of them being girls by any measure, anyone who saw the getup had to admit that magical girl was the only term for it. The top was mottled green and looked like an army uniform aside from the cute little ribbons in place of buttons, and he had a matching cap with some feathery decals sticking out of it. On his chest, his soul gem gleamed like a medal of honour. His skirt was black and businesslike without much frill, but it was still a skirt, which was a little startling to see their manager in. Finally, a pair of knee-high army boots tied off with ribbons wound themselves around his legs, and a pirate's cutlass manifested in his hand.

With the transformation complete, he wasted no time leaping forward and jabbing his blade at the attacking familiar. Steel ground against steel as his weapon slotted neatly between two tines of one of the forks. From the sidelines, Bret frowned in concern and Jemaine shook his head in disapproval. This already wasn't looking good. But Murray, who had refused to give up on the band he was managing despite never finding much success and rarely receiving any gratitude for his efforts, certainly wasn't going to give up now. He pulled his sword back and lunged again, this time aiming for the roiling shadows that lay between the cutlery.

To his elation, he just managed to nick the familiar. It screeched and flew into the air. He tried to follow its trajectory from there, but it moved too fast.

"Murray," Jemaine called, frame tense with more anxiety over their manager's wellbeing than he would have admitted to feeling. "Look out, it's--"

Before he could finish that sentence, the familiar slammed into Murray from behind. At least a half-dozen knives and forks drove into Murray's back, sending blood spurting out and staining his uniform. Jemaine cringed and leaned even further away despite already being well out of the splash zone. Bret gasped. Almost unconsciously he transformed in a burst of sparkles. A wooden bow decorated with the animal emblem from his soul gem shimmered into existence in his hand.

Murray staggered, vision swimming and tinged with red. He took a gasping breath and it got stuck in his throat. Blood dribbled out of his mouth when he coughed and ran down his chin, staining his beard. No doubt Bret and Jemaine thought he'd go into a hysterical panic or completely shut down. Maybe they were even expecting him to keel over right then and there. And yes, alright, the first few times something like this had happened that may have been exactly how he responded. But he was the senior magical girl here. He had to be professional and set a good example for the guys.

While Murray swayed on his feet and tried to convince himself that this wasn't really so bad, Bret notched an arrow and drew back the string on his bow. He squeezed one eye shut and pursed his lips in concentration. Jemaine watched him from the corner of his eye, breathing fast and not quite believing what he was seeing. How was Bret so calm about this? He'd only been a magical girl for a few days. This was his first actual fight. And the familiar was still hovering right behind Murray, ready to strike again. There was a very good chance Bret's arrow would miss the target altogether and impale their manager. Especially since, from what he'd seen so far, Bret wasn't a very good shot.

Bret's heart pounded in his ears. He barely managed to keep his breathing deep and mostly even, though he couldn't stop it from coming in and out quicker than usual. His fingers trembled against the arrow as he lined up the shot. He'd practiced with this weapon a few times in their flat, and it hadn't gone particularly well. But Murray needed his help. He swallowed hard, and though steeling his nerves would only do so much for his accuracy, his hands grew steadier as he pulled the string back as far as it could go. He glanced at Jemaine over his shoulder in a silent message: Stand back. The last thing he wanted was Jemaine getting in the way, especially if things went wrong.

Luckily, Jemaine didn't have to be told. By this point he was so far away from the streetlight that Murray was battling under that he was almost at a completely different streetlight several metres down the path. Satisfied that his friend was a safe distance away, Bret released the string.

The familiar launched itself into the sky as the arrow flew toward it, but the arrow was magic, so it arced upwards like a homing missile to follow the target. When it connected, a bright flash of light burst forth. The familiar screeched, a truly grating sound, and when the light cleared it looked like a chunk of it had been scooped out or dissolved. Hissing, it zeroed in on Bret. He fired another arrow, and while the familiar dodged taking another hit head-on, it did knock loose a couple of knives which skittered to the ground and then crumbled away. Bret probably could have fired off a third shot if he stood his ground, but he didn't want to risk it. He dove to the side and rolled out of the way. Jemaine, who was left standing directly in the enraged familiar's path, barked out an indignant exclamation at Bret's abandonment.

Meanwhile, Murray had managed to pull himself together. Funny thing about being a magical girl-- injuries didn't hurt as much. In fact, if you just turned part of your brain off they didn't hurt at all. He righted himself and charged towards the familiar with a battle cry that made it pause in midair before it could reach Jemaine. Jumping as high in the air as he could manage (which was much higher than it was before he made a contract) Murray clasped the scabbard of his blade with both hands and drove it into the familiar from above.

The familiar had put up a good fight for what it was, but it was only a familiar, after all, not a full witch. And Bret had already weakened it considerably. Its unstable form surged and crackled in the wake of Murray's precision strike, dribbling its drug-scented ichor onto the ground and making the pavement sizzle where it landed. Finally, it imploded. Cutlery fell in a shower, creating a clatter that drowned out the thud of Murray's boots landing him firmly on the ground.

Jemaine, who had been about three seconds away from getting eviscerated, toppled backwards onto the ground as his knees gave out. Adrenaline kicked in too late to do anything useful, leaving his heart pounding and chest heaving to catch his breath. His eyes, blown wide from stress, flickered over to the patch of grass where Bret had landed. Upon seeing his friend sitting up and picking leaves out of his hair with a pout, Jemaine relaxed. He wasn't hurt, but he was humiliated-- good on both accounts. Served him right.

"I could've gotten killed just now," he grumbled as he got to his feet. "It's a magical girl's job to protect ordinary humans, isn't it? Not jump out of the way and leave them to be run through with cutlery."

"Sorry, man," Bret said with a shrug. At the very least he actually sounded apologetic, but it wasn't enough to dispel Jemaine's annoyance or make him want to go on any more witch hunts with him anytime soon. "It was coming right at me. I got scared."

The soft woosh of magic from a few feet away caught their ears, and they turned in unison to see Murray holding his soul gem in cupped hands with his eyes shut and his face pinched in concentration. A warm orange glow surrounded him. When it faded, the strain of pain was gone from his face and his posture seemed more natural. The blood vanished from his clothes when he detransformed, but a bit remained matting his beard.

"Are you alright, Murray?" Bret asked cautiously.

"Oh, you boys don't need to worry about me," he replied cheerfully. "Healing magic is my specialty. I can fix myself up in the blink of an eye!"

Bret and Jemaine exchanged an apprehensive glance. Murray said that, but his whole body was still trembling. He must have been in shock. And the surface of his soul gem was tinted notably darker than it was when they headed out. For their first time on a witch hunt (not actually a witch hunt), this didn't bode well.

Part 2

#hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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ndostairlyrium · 10 months

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MA QUANTO TEMPO, wait that I'll throw you some family prompts.

👩, 👍 for Hawke, 💕, ✨ for Ankh, 😞, ⚰️ for Ela!

( of course, skip any you don't like, they're… A lot, LOL)

GLI EONI 💛💛

Hawke:

👩 - What's your muse's relationship with their mother, what made it that way?

Leandra is a very cautious person, protective of her children. Being Hawke the guy with the thunderous laugh in the back of the room and the occasional "I turned Carvers hair into moss because he was being annoying" sibling, you can see why their relationship was rocky to say the least. Malcolm acted like Switzerland between them but most of the times it wasn't enough. They were clearly different people, they still are.

It's when Malcolm died that Hawke realized that his mother was acting a certain way for a reason, consequently he changed his behavior to ease her role as a single parent. He soon became someone to rely on, working alongside her with much more passion, plus he toned down his personality to avoid unpleasant attentions.

Usually, when parents are left alone with children depending on them, they either become superheroes with iron shoulders or they look for another adult in the room for assistance. In Hawke's case, unfortunately the second option happened. He was treated like the other adult in the household while he was still developing his identity. I think that's one of the reasons why Carver just antagonizes him at every possible occasion; he's not his dad and he's not acting like his silly big brother again. Who is Hawke? Why he's in charge? Why does he think it's best to do certain things without even consulting him and Bethany about it?

I can sympathize with Leandra for acting like this tho, growing three kids (two of them being mages) without someone helping is probably one of the hardest roles you can ever have. "Yeah but she could've asked for help rather than putting such responsibilities to her kid"

Listen Judy, the woman has kids with magic. What if she asked for help to the wrong person? One that could give templars a call and just take what's left of her family away, for example. She's alone, in a different country, her dreams have just been shattered in the worst way. She's just a human trying to survive an environment that is trying to crush her; realistically, a perfect reaction to crises rarely occurs.

What I'm trying to say is, Leandra's situation has never been easy. But she was also the adult in the room and she wasn't fair with her older kid.

Hawke took the lead because he understood his mother's struggle, but she failed to fulfill her children needs in return. But she also did her best? That's why Hawke was adamant to give her a better life in Kirkwall, he knows she could have done more, but also he knows that she just needs a different environment to grow and thrive.

tl;dr: he knows her flaws, but he can't help but love her profoundly even if he has all the rights to fail and process his trauma without having to act like nothing can touch him

👍 - Does your muse think they’re a good child and/or sibling?

No, because he blames himself for everything bad happened to his family. But he's a great child and sibling.

Ankh:

💕 - What are your muse’s thoughts on parenting and being a parent even if they aren’t one?

Actually, I never planned anything for this lol

I know she wants to generate a chaos elemental and the guy is into the idea as well, but there are quite the maluses involved in such a concept (anchor messing up with the inquisitor's body, age, lyrium influence on fertility, plus elves being unfortunate when it comes to their reproductive system). Hopefully they'll have that experience, I'm just not too eager to explore the implications surrounding it :'D and Bonbon is already a fulltime parenting job. Could be a training ground for the most poofy haired kid in existence? We'll see, we'll see

✨ - How important is family to your muse?

Fundamental.

Her concept of family is different from the standard parent 1 parent 2 (3,4...), plus spawn. For her, family is the ensemble of all her loved ones, including her clan, her people in general, and the ones who entered her life by seeking her protection. She doesn't think of her blood relatives more than she would think of Cassandra.

Which is why when someone betrays her, the world just stops making sense.

Ela:

😞 - Finding an orphaned child would your muse opt to take them in, find someone more qualified, or just leave them?

A Warden's life is not suited for a child. Before the Chantry just forced the Wardens to get rid of Anders, probably she would have left them to a flock of mothers/sisters to take care of them. In this moment she would probably claim a couple of favors and place them in the most suitable household. The girl has a heart

⚰️ - How would the loss of a family member affect them? Does it vary based on type of family member?

Being a traumatized orphan still, she would take the loss of his brother in the most heartbreaking way possible. She knows her clock is ticking faster than his, and it would be an upsetting surprise if he was the one walking through the Veil first.

She would honor his name by all means, even if this would end in losing all the freedom she struggled to capture all those years she was away from Highever. She would return home and stay in court to protect the designated heir until the situation is cleared from any threat, sacrificing her tasks in order to celebrate what her brother accomplished while she was away.

Now

If Alistair died (Warden Alistair in my worldstate) it would be tragic in the most greek-theatre-like possible way, because he became the most stable presence in her life since the loss of her family. He's the air she breathes, her compass whenever the morality of a situation gets blurry, the man that made her say "not all men suck" for once. She wants to give him a better future, it's irrelevant if she's involved in it or not.

She knows she's on borrowed time, grasping every minute with what's left of her nails, but he doesn't need to carry such burden. He deserves happiness, he deserves the world. And she wants to give it to him on a silver platter.

If her brother died she would have a plan, but if Alistair died nothing in her life would make sense anymore.

The ask meme

#long post #family headcanons #hawke #ankh #elanor cousland #seriously never talk shit about alistair in ela's presence lmao she'd bite your head off #ankh be like 'lmao yeah my bf can be idiotic sometimes' while he's in the room #ela is like super protective of him #also warden alistair has the best lines romance related #fight me #also let's be more understanding of single mother leandra amell dealing with loss with no one to rely on #fully knowing that her blood hates her for choosing love over prestige

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kath-trashh · 1 year

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10, 14, and 24 for the mc ask game :)

Gonna preemptively put this on a read more because I'm going to end up rambling a lot I think!

10. If one were to peek inside their wardrobe, what would they find? What outfits do they wear on a casual day? Travelling? In a formal setting?

Rin- Rin wears a lot of pretty flowy clothes. On a casual day, you can find them wearing loose skirts or pants that allow them to run around freely. While travelling, they generally wear what they wear on a casual day, but more reinforced with leather tunics or something to that line. In a formal setting, it's the same. They don't like being forced to wear things that would constrict them, especially if they had to run around or fight.

Avis- On a casual day, Avis wears pretty plain clothes. They've got like, a couple cotton button-up shirts, one leather belt, and like, a cardigan-vest thing. That's all they wear on casual outings. When travelling, Avis probably adds a cloak that they've enchanted to be waterproof/resistant to the elements, but that's rare because Avis really hates being forced out of their comfort zone. In a formal setting, they usually like cleaning up and taming their gigantic poofy hair but they can pull off anything from a dress to a three-piece suit if need be.

Mareike- I think out of all my fan apprentices, Mareike has the widest variety of clothes in her wardrobe. On a casual day, Mareike wears what's basically a pantsuit with leather boots and leggings if she needs to survey a location for her architecture work. When travelling, she really likes dolling up overpreparing with a coat that has a lot of pockets to store all kinds of things. In a formal setting, Mareike isn't averse to popping out a full ballgown or the like, especially if it's for a dance.

Jaxen- Unfathomable scumbag of the deep. His casual wear is his assassin's outfit, and that's the only thing he wears. He has not showered in weeks. Dude does not give a single flying fuck about anything. He could and would show up to a formal event covered in blood.

14. What are their favorites (i.e. flower, drink, food, color, etc.)?

Rin- Favorite food is scrambled eggs, favorite drink is fizzy soda, and favorite flower is peonies. Aside from that, favorite color is green, and favorite animal is a hawk (which is also coincidentally their familiar :'D)

Avis- Favorite food is French onion soup, favorite drink is chamomile tea, and favorite flower is chrysanthemums. Favorite color is pale yellow, and they're not quite sure what their favorite animal is!

Mareike- Favorite food is oatmeal, favorite drink is warm milk, and favorite flower is lavender. Favorite color is a light bubblegum pink, and her favorite animal is the kingfisher

Jaxen- Favorite food is Turkish delight, favorite drink is hot cocoa, and favorite flower is the red poppy. Favorite color is blue, and his favorite animal is the jaguar

24. What's their relationship to the main 6?

Rin- Rin was once a librarian working in the palace-- but before that, they were an orphan who grew up alongside Asra and Muriel as childhood friends. When Muriel was forced to fight in the Coliseum, Rin sought him out to read him stories and comfort him. They're friendly with Julian and Portia, and Nadia to an extent, but they're less familiar with her. They have a slight distaste for Lucio, but post-revival are more likely and willing to set him on fire.

Avis- Avis was incredibly close to Asra and Julian, working alongside Julian to find a cure for the plague. Previously, as one of the strongest magicians in Vesuvia, Avis and Asra often talked for days and weeks about different spells and how to augment them. Due to often being engrossed in their work, they weren't very close to anyone else.

Mareike- Mareike was close friends with Nadia, even though Mareike was technically at the palace as the royal architect under Lucio's orders. Mareike has at least what could be called a deep distaste for the way Lucio runs Vesuvian affairs, but respects Nadia and her ability to work. She is also close with Julian, after they bonded over a mutual sort of frustration in dealing with Lucio's lack of desire to affect real change.

Jaxen- The only real connection he has from the main 6 is Lucio, having known the Count before he entered Vesuvia; they met when they were both lone mercenaries, and after a scuffle, Lucio left Jaxen badly wounded. He totally doesn't hold a grudge over that. In any case, he inspires mostly unease and distrust in others, with Asra expressing a general sense that something is distinctly 'wrong' about Jaxen and his powers.

#answered!#anyways i love jaxen so much #awful fuckin dude #the arcana oc #the arcana fan apprentice #fan apprentice

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house-vestra · 1 year

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fe17 thoughts (part 1)

first round of engage thoughts... i just beat chapter 17 but this is mostly about the firene gang so probably only spoilers for the early game

probably the worst FE in terms of line writing; ppl rag on fates for bad writing but mainly for plot holes/concept but i didn’t mind fe14 on a line level. there have certainly been more times during engage where the actual lines characters were given felt very amateurish.

in terms of characterization, i feel this game is probably the weakest as well. the character gimmicks are fine to me (none feel very egregious at this point) but i think the characters are hurt by how short the supports are. i think these are the shortest supports in an FE game? generally i feel like in FE, supports generally each contain a full story beat so a support chain will consist of 3 separate encounters, usually with at 1 or 2 reversals in there, but fe17 supports sometimes take all 3 levels to cover just one story beat (i.e. the b support picks up directly where the c support conversation left off, rather than being a new conversation resulting from the characters getting to know each other better). that gives the impression the characterization is much shallower than in other FE games. but i’m not convinced it... needed to be this way? there are moments where i feel like some characters DO have other things going on for them other than the 1 gimmick/character trait from their c-support.. i’ll revisit this when i’ve unlocked more a-supports i guess

like many people, i was taken aback by Alear’s design but I’ve mostly come around to it. I played M!Alear because he has less hair to look at. ppl have criticized the divine dragon thing being an excuse for protagonist worship but I don’t mind it; the game plays with how being worshipped is actually something uncomfortable for Alear and there’s a minor recurring theme about the nature of worship in Elyos which is a little juicy

mixed feelings on framme/clanne (i always want to write framme/cramme lol). probably least fav christmas cavs, which is a feat when alan/lance exist. i actually do think the Divine Dragon Fan Club is very funny... but i don’t like either of their designs and i feel like.... they’re annoying??

alfred is a wannabe himbo and i love that for him. it’s an interesting choice to give him that personality but make him look like That. i liked most of his supports; he is very funny.

reserving judgment of celine until i’ve gotten her later supports. she does talk about tea a lot but i sense she does have more going on; i like that she’s more canny and mature than a lot of kind younger sister types. i feel like a lot of the character supports are padded by polite pleasantries but celine sometimes cuts through the niceties in a way that suggests there’s more going on with her?? i will return to this point after i get more supports. i do like her design; she is cute and her big poofy dress is funny.

chloe is pretty. i think her thing with eating weird foods is funny as well, but the writers (possibly localizers, could be in the original jp context as well) missed the mark with calling the food “folk food.” it would be one thing if what she was eating was actually established in lore to be what commoners or regional peasants eat as a fact of the world. we do have a lot of noble characters who could be aghast by that. but we also have characters from poorer backgrounds and nobody eats what chloe is shown to be eating, so it doesn’t feel like honest world building when chloe lectures other characters about the authenticity of weird regional delicacies

(but it could have been funny if chloe could only cook weird things that no one else likes in the cafe)

louis’s thing with watching ppl is a little uncomfy for me but i could change my mind at some point. i do like his green eyes when he opens them, and i like that they do have him open them at times; that endears the character to me. i like that he’s a pushy big brother to zelkov

limited thoughts on boucheron; i do like his reactions to alfred and etie harassing him and he makes a good straight man to them. “those are my abs” from the etie support was great. his model does make it abundantly clear that the shoulders on the adult male model are too broad, so that’s distracting.

i actually like most of the firene gang on their own... but as a group they are too nice lol and it makes most of the conversations/supports in the early game feel kind of bland and samey.

ESPECIALLY QUEEN EVE; i feel like her design is very regal, proud, and borderline-could-be-a-bitch but then she just is a normal nice lady, so i was disappointed.

as a side note, to all the people (on reddit) who keep saying they wrote etie to be a buff bodybuilder but didn’t draw her as one... they didn’t write her to be a buff bodybuilder. they wrote her to aspire to be a buff bodybuilder, but she struggles to put on muscle like alfred does, read the words on the screen, i beg of you.

thought jean would be a stronger unit but he’s... not that good for me; i feel like... qi adepts aren’t good???? i don’t mind that he and anna are children but i have seen some criticism of their ages.

anna is cute. i have the same criticism of her as i do with all post-fe12 anna’s, which is that fe12 anna is best anna. the money thing is more toned down in engage, which i appreciate. she is so little. i think she has good growths but i haven’t noticed her being that good because mine is flimsy as paper.

gameplay-wise, the emblems are really fun. this is a new level of unit customization for Fire Emblem. class changing/skills were serviceable before but they required grinding and some level of commitment to them, whereas i’ve been swapping emblems on and off characters very liberally so the way i play each unit changes between battles. that is very neat.

edelgard/dimi/claude is my favorite emblem; fallen star is very good, atrocity is strong but less useful, raging storm is mostly not useful due to the cost but i’ve used it once. tiki is good as well as she’s strong; i’ve not noticed her increased growths having that much effect but could be because i swap her on and off people.

for base game emblems, i think probably... micaiah > lyn > sigurd > byleth > celica > eirika > corrin > ike > lucina > leif > marth > roy

i haven’t used leif and roy that much so they could be better than i recall.

unit-wise, i don’t think i’ve noticed many stand outs for me? everyone is roughly usable, and i’ve trained everyone but clanne and vander (i’m in desperate need of more master seals)

everyone is saying you need to promote at level 10. THERE’S NOT ENOUGH MASTER SEALS TO DO THAT. i promoted everyone at level 20 and i still have people sitting there waiting for master seals.

speaking of not having enough of a resource, i’m also very poor. i upgraded all countries to level 2 to get their regional clothes but the level 3 is TOO EXPENSIVE. i have a lot of gold skirmishes but they’re rough to do bc they’re pretty high level and if i use my high level guys, those guys will level up, and then the skirmish level will INCREASE MORE. this is... like a punishment for sisyphus

they buffed armors so much that mages are really indispensable. hammers and armorslayers... do not work lol

i appreciate that they gave us lots of shiny staves to use, and pretty early too. i have not used them.

i guess alear is my strongest unit??? they’re pretty dodgy but didnt stop marni from ONE SHOTTING ME.

i’ll do brodia gang next; i have lots of thoughts on them. i’m recording these for future me’s reference, but i’m happy to hear other people’s thoughts too!

#m #fe17 #elyos #mine #i'm not finished w the game so could change my mind at some point #i wonder when the fe17 ao3 category will pop off #there's only 79 fics rn but i assume most ppl haven't gotten most of the content yet #my wager is it certainly won't get the readership 3h did but it should get several thousand like fe13 and fe14

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