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albertdabuttler · 7 months

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Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

Pt. III

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: cussing, subtle mention of a wound, idk not much else i can think of 🤣

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3K

gif not mine LOL!!

A/N: sorry for the delay lovelies, this part is a liiiiittle lame but i promise to give you what you want in the next. Xx

———————

You realized the next day there were a limited number of guys with those beautiful blue eyes and brown hair. Only three of them felt worth considering, for the others had voices that sounded too different or hobbies that contrasted with Kick-Ass’ obvious interests.

On your way to second hour, you noticed one of them walking down the hall as you switched books from your locker. You looked at him, hoping he would notice. He made eye contact with you for a second and smiled, but since you didn’t really know him, he kept on walking.

You thought maybe if that was him then he would have tried to avoid talking to you, for the obvious reason that he couldn’t have you knowing his identity.

You hoped it was that guy rather than any of the others. He was pretty good looking and a few girls you knew had a crush on him. Of course he was oblivious though.

“Hey Cleo.” You smiled as Cleo leaned against the locker next to yours.

“I think I’m getting a Kick-Ass fever.” She spoke. Thinking of the events of the night before, you replied. “How so?”

“I can’t stop thinking about him… And what you told me about him yesterday.”

“Right, yeah…” You chewed the tissue on the inside of your cheek, biting back a grin that dared to creep up on your face knowing you were the girl getting the action with Kick-Ass out of all his fans.

“Anything new happen with him? Did he send you anything on MySpace?” She winked, making you scoff in disgust.

“Um well…”

Cleo lit up in excitement, “What happened!?”

“He got hurt. Like real bad, and I patched him up and…”

“Please tell me what I think you’re gonna say,” She smiled, biting her bottom lip as she gripped your bicep from elation.

“I kissed him…” You smiled, she stared in utter shock but you knew she was happy for you.

“Cleo, promise me you won’t say anything because I really don’t want his fangirls to bombard me with questions only to TP my house.” You looked at her seriously.

“Of course.” She nodded sincerely.

“Was he a good kisser?” She whispered feverishly.

“Well, I could tell he didn’t have that much experience at first, and he even admitted to it, but he got the hang of it really quick.” You giggled. “And… He’s got really nice muscles.” You grinned, Cleo’s eyes widening, “Wait so—“

“He had to take his suit off for me to fix him up.”

The conversation continued as you told her in detail about what happened. You made your way to your next class, spotting Marty, Dave, and Todd walking through the crowd.

“Hey guys,” Spoke Cleo, stopping on the side of the corridor and getting their attention quickly but there was nothing you could do.

“Hi,” You greeted them as well. Dave looked gone. He had incredibly dark circles like he didn’t get any sleep. He also had a bruise forming on his left eye, and a cut on his lip.

“‘Sup.” Todd replied. Marty saluting you as well.

Dave smiled at Cleo, soon turning to you and feeling his knees weaken. He knew he couldn’t act differently, or else you would know. He knew you weren’t stupid.

“Hi.” His voice almost trembling as he swallowed, trying to avoid your gaze.

“Hey asshole.” You said chuckling.

He rolled his eyes and suddenly, he forgot that he made out with you twelve hours ago.

“What happened to your eye…?” You pointed at your own, mirroring the area in which he had the bruise.

“I got jumped again.” He said simply, looking into your eyes in an attempt to make it believable.

He wanted to look away from you, so that you wouldn’t catch on, but he just couldn’t. He noticed how your hair was getting in your face and he just wanted to push it out of the way to look at your pretty face.

Maybe he was spacing out? Probably tired from how much homework he had or something. You assumed lack of sleep from all that was why he looked so drained.

“You guys wanna get coffee at Atomic Comics later?” Cleo asked.

You shot her a look. She looked back, slightly nodding at Todd, whom she had a big crush on, but you knew he wouldn’t pick up on it. And you knew Cleo was too much of a pussy to ask him out alone.

Dave looked at you both, “We have to study for that project thing from sixth period,” pointing between you and himself.

“Right, yeah.” You sighed in annoyance.

He lowered his eyes, noticing your reaction. Okay so clearly you haven’t found out it’s him yet. Maybe if you knew it was him then you’d like him more? That being the answer he preferred, or you’d get really fucking pissed and call him things he wasn’t.

“We gotta get to class, Cleo.” You reminded her, holding onto the strap of your backpack and slowly moving towards the middle of the hall to begin your walk to second period.

"Bye," Dave spoke up, mostly to you, but his voice cracked as he realized he let it slip out.

You turned to him along with the others, the four of you looking at him strangely. His face began heating up from embarrassment so he cleared his throat, biting his lip as he pushed past you to make his way to his next class.

———————

Most of your morning was uneventful as usual, walking past Dave in the halls but it seemed like he lost his breath each time he spotted you. For the first few minutes of lunch, you and Cleo sat with Marty and Todd again, but somehow Dave hadn't joined you yet.

"Yeah, but that's because it's Superman." You heard Cleo state as you were brought back to reality.

"Are there any super heroes who's love interest doesn't like them until they reveal themselves as a super-hero?" Cleo turned to you.

"Uh, yeah I'm pretty sure there are." you answered.

Just then you spotted Dave making his way to your table, an irritated expression on his face.

"What happened to you?" Said Todd.

“The teacher made me go to the counselor's office." He motioned to his face with his index finger.

“Right. What'd she ask you about?" You spoke up as he sat down.

His eyes shot in your direction, almost like he forgot you were there. He swallowed as he answered your question. "She told me I should reach out to an adult if I'm getting mistreated at home or…being…bullied." He spoke like it was the most ridiculous story he'd ever told.

You giggled, "Well, what'd you tell her?"

"That I got jumped? Duh."

“Did you?” You questioned seriously.

He looked at you for a second, “Yeah.” He said simply, hoping you wouldn’t ask any further. Technically, he wasn’t lying. He did get jumped. But not for the sake of being robbed. They were trying to kill him.

“I’m glad you’re okay…I guess.” You admitted, earning looks from everyone else at the table.

Dave had to bite back the widest grin. “Um... Thanks.” He meant it. He obviously couldn’t tell you but you were pretty much the whole reason he was okay with how you stitched him up.

“…What?” You looked back at the other three. “If he wasn’t okay I’d have to do the project all by myself.” You said, trying to crack a joke out of it even if you were serious about him being okay.

“Anyway…” Cleo suddenly perked up, remembering what had happened with Kick-Ass.

“Oh yeah, someone over here has been getting real close with Kick-Ass these past few days.” She nudged your arm, smirking.

“Wait, really?” Marty spoke, “What’s he like, is he like avenging his parents,” he joked, earning a chuckle from Todd. Dave was oddly quiet.

“I dunno. He said he just wanted to see what it was like, I guess? And that he wanted to help people because no one else does.”

“Cute.” Said Cleo.

“Laaaame.” Spoke Marty, Todd soon agreeing with him.

“Didn’t you also kiss him?” Cleo spoke up.

You hit her arm, rolling your eyes as you were faced with having to admit.

“Dude, he's a superhero. He kisses like a ton of girls.”

He didn't know why you had lied about that but was grateful.

“Was he a good kisser?”

You didn’t understand for having to ask all this in front of the small group of boys. What you did know, was that the room got pretty hot with the position you were in.

Dave looked up at you expecting an answer as Todd and Marty watched you disinterested and kept on eating.

“Yeah.” You said.

He felt his stomach twist at your words, locking eyes with you for long enough to feel a blood rush in his face.

“Dave, what exactly did they do to your face? I mean all they had to do was put you on the ground right, not rip your face off.” You asked curiously, suddenly changing the topic.

He was at a loss for words for a minute, mouth vaguely ajar and still trying to recover from the fact you thought he was a good kisser.

“I got punched in the face like five times and I was also st—” He paused, forgetting he got stabbed and that you stitched it up. “stabbed—in the back…” He tried making it sound convincing.

“Right, got it.” You paused. “Do you wanna get a cab home together? Now I’m scared shitless to get one by myself, and you live like right next to me so… We can both avoid getting our asses robbed.” You chuckled.

“Okay…?” He he squinted, glancing at Marty and Todd which looked at him like he was out of his mind.

———————

You’d been sitting on the curb in front of the school, waiting for what had been about half an hour for Dave.

“Hey, sorry. Mr. Duaine wanted to talk with me.” Dave’s familiar voice rang out as he approached you.

“It’s okay. I called a cab a few minutes ago, should be getting here in a bit.” You answered.

Dave sat down next to you, the sun hitting both your heads with a sickening heat. But the silence was peaceful somehow, it didn’t get awkward.

“Hey, Dave?”

He turned his head to look at you, his eyes squinting from the brightness of the sun. But remembering what happened last night, he couldn't keep his gaze on you for too long.

“Hm?”

Chewing on your lip, you held out your hand to him. “Friends?”

He took a moment to look at your hand, lifting his eyes back up at you. He hesitated, and you didn’t blame him. “What?” He looked at you accusingly.

You looked back down at the concrete in front of you, trying to find whatever words you had in the back of your mind to try and explain yourself.

“I…”

You faced him, “I think I don’t hate you that much anymore.”

He let out a soft laugh, “You think?”

You threw a small pebble you found onto the street before you two. “…Sorry I cut you off like that…”

You sighed. “I miss being friends with you. You were my best friend and I shoved it up my ass because you liked a girl and hadn’t even gotten to that point of my life yet...” You paused, “I mean, starting to crush on boys…” you added. “I didn’t understand why you liked her so much when I thought we were supposed to be focused on stupid shit like comics. You grew up before me and it made me feel horrible.”

Dave only stared at you with his lips parted, like he was going to say something, but nothing slipped out. Hearing all this from you made him want to make out with you again.

“Obviously at this point I understand you, but… You didn’t have to push me away, y’know? After a while you kinda just ignored me or turned me down when I wanted to hang out.”

Dave’s heart grew heavier with your words. He never knew how much it affected you, he thought you didn’t care about the friendship you had either and that you just dropped him for no reason. Gosh he was so fucking blind.

“I’m sorry.” He said simply, gazing at the ground in front of him.

“I miss being friends with you too.” Dave finally brought his eyes to yours, giving you a soft, but guilty smile.

“I’m sorry I treated you like that. I mean, you’re the only friend I had for that long. You were also the only girl I could talk to without embarrassing myself.” He paused, turning to you and seeing your eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait—“ His eyes widened, “that—that sounds wrong—I mean, you… I—I don’t like you like that, um… I was just wanting to say that—since I could talk to you, I…” He still wasn’t getting his point across and only embarrassed himself further.

“Fuck, I… You know what I meant.“ He chuckled awkwardly.

“Yes, I get your point, Dave.” You chuckled.

“Okay, good.” he breathed, scoffing at himself but his face flushed red.

"Are you blushing?" You felt your heart skip before biting back a laugh, considering that everything he said was ridiculous. “Two years without me and you already miss me so much you get a crush on me?” You finally giggled.

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes at your laughter, “Gross.”

“You asshole!” you smacked his arm.

He let himself laugh along with you, until suddenly his mind began flooding with thoughts of how you kissed him the night before. How soft and warm your lips were, how your hands felt touching his chest, playing with his hair. How he was resisting so hard not to tell you who he was and that he knew you, not to beg you to touch him in ways he’s never been touched before.

He did think of you that way although he’d never admit it out loud.

“Whatever.” You scoffed, completely oblivious to the fact that, in reality, this boy was head over heels for you.

“Fine.” He held his hand out like you had just done for him, “Friends. I guess.” He playfully rolled his eyes and you took it with no hesitation, giving him a firm shake.

“So uh,” he began as he let go of your hand, “You and Kick-Ass.” He hid a smile.

You scoffed, “What, are you jealous?” you smirked.

“Ew.” He scorned. “The way you talked about him at lunch, thanks for giving me something to relentlessly make fun of you for. Imagine liking a guy you don’t even know.” he teased. But you could have him all you wanted. You did have him, all to yourself, unbeknownst to you.

“Shut up, Dave! It’s not like I’m in love with him. I don’t think I’d even date him...” You laughed

He took a nervous breath, like somehow you could read his mind, that he was practically lying to you and you knew.

In the current moment he wanted to kiss you like he did yesterday. So perilously. But not just kiss you, he wanted to love you. He kept watching you as your laugh died down and you smiled, looking elsewhere. A smile threatened to break upon his lips because of how pretty you looked and that beautifully contagious smile.

Dave was snapped from his thoughts as he heard a car approaching, looking in the direction of the cab as it pulled up in front of the two of you. The boy stood up first, quickly grabbing your hand to pull you up, and surprisingly, he opened the door for you. You decided to scoot all the way to the other side so that he wouldn’t have to walk around.

“Where to?”

————

Not long passed before you were dropped off at the entrance to your neighborhood.

“Thank you!” You called, Dave paying the driver what was due as she drove away.

“Thanks for getting that.” You told Dave, grateful that he had payed for you.

“Yeah…” He replied, adjusting his backpack as he turned to walk next to you. You heard a quiet wince and noticed a little grimace on his face.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m good.” He replied quickly, squirming in his place.

"You sure?" You watched him with a look of concern.

"Yeah, just a bruise from yesterday."

You only nodded, beginning to walk down the sidewalk to get home.

"So..." Dave began speaking after a moment, although the silence was comfortable, he still wanted to talk to you.

"Were you able to get any part of the project done last night?" You asked.

"I stayed up super late writing my part. What about you?"

You didn't realize that 'late' meant he was up until 2 AM because of everything that had happened.

"I started kind of early but..." You paused, remembering how Kick-Ass had gotten hurt. "Some...stuff happened and I got distracted... I only got to write like two paragraphs."

He smiled, he got you so distracted that you couldn't even finish your homework. He felt proud to be so memorable as Kick-Ass.

"What happened?" He asked this out of 'curiosity.'

"Uh my friend called and we were talking all night..." You lied.

"Oh, alright." He bit back a smile.

"What about you? Why were you up so late?"

"I was just... I had some stuff to take care of with my dad a—and we got home kind of late, so…”

“Mm.” You nodded.

As you stepped foot on your porch, you turned to salute Dave until you saw him later.

“Just come over at like seven.” You suggested, smiling and sending a small wave soon after.

“Okay, see you.” He subtly sized you up, flashing his dimpled smile before walking back to his own home.

Since when was his smile so attractive?

———————

Thank you for reading!

tagging everyone who asks for it 🤣

@lizzxoxo @kenmaisbae

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski angst #writing #dave lizewski fluff #aaron taylor johnson #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #iz writes #angst #aaron taylor johnson fic #kick ass x reader #kick ass fluff #kick ass #kick ass fanfic #kick ass angst

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jaeyunverse · 8 months

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cat boy

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

wc: 1882

genres: some fluff, mostly crack, enemies to lovers, neighbours au

warnings: profanity

summary: yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwon’s cat plays cupid and sets you up.

note: this is extremely unserious!!!! i only wrote it for funsies but i enjoyed the process a lot :) i hope the fic manages to bring a smile on your face hehe

masterlist

There was an angry-looking Yang Jungwon standing at your door.

You didn’t know why he was so pissed. You just knew you didn’t care.

“Your incessant knocking woke me up,” you replied dryly and leaned against the door frame, arms crossing over your chest. “You better have a good reason for ruining my sleep.”

“It’s five in the evening.”

“What’s your point?”

Jungwon’s jaw clenched, and the corner of your lip curled up a smirk. Provoking him was always so satisfying. Always so easy and entertaining.

It was crazy how he was the sweetest person with everyone else but the moment you opened your mouth, he glared at you and looked like he was plotting your death. The discrimination and harsh treatment you’d received from the boy upon moving into your apartment had hurt at first, but you’d soon learnt to take it with a grain of salt.

You’d learnt that it was way more fun to push his buttons and see just how far you needed to take things for him to reach his breaking point.

“Just shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Jungwon snapped, pointing an accusing finger at you. “I need you to stop playing with my cat. Do not touch her. Do not call her name. Do not do the weird fucking meowing thing you do where she meows back at you and you have those god awful meowing conversations. Do not—”

“Oh, yeah,” you interrupted and pretended to deeply think about something. “I think it was just yesterday that Cleo told me you were popping a vein over her liking me more than you. I must say, Yang, you have reached a level of pathetic I didn’t even know existed. Yelling at your neighbour because you don’t get validation from your cat? Tsk.”

Embarrassment and anger coloured the entirety of Jungwon’s face a deep red. “You don’t get it!” he exclaimed. “Cleo keeps clawing at the front door! She doesn’t even want to stay with me anymore. She stares at me with so much resentment because I don’t let her play with you all the time!”

“I’m confused,” you said, your eyebrows furrowing. “Why don’t you let her play with me if that’s why she hates you? Your problem has a very simple solution—”

“But she’s my cat!” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He stepped closer to you, desperation evident on his features. “I don’t care if she plays with you, but the more she does, the more she realises that she’d rather have you take care of her.”

“Well,” you sputtered, a little taken aback by how much his cat’s preferences had distraught him. “If it’s any consolation to you, I don’t have the time or resources to look after Cleo, so she has no choice but to stay with you.”

“I don’t know how to make her love me again,” Jungwon mumbled to himself, not having heard you at all. “I know cats aren’t very loyal, but I didn’t think Cleo would dump me after everything we’ve gone through. I pay the landlord more money so she can keep staying with me without having to hide from anyone. I fought—”

“Yang!” you yelled and grabbed his shoulders. He snapped out of his reverie and looked at you in despair. You’d never thought you would feel bad for him, but you found yourself offering, “Do you want me to show you how I play with her? I don’t know why she prefers me over you, but maybe I’m doing something you aren’t. Maybe you’ll know what it is if we play with her together.”

Jungwon nodded eagerly. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Now?” you asked incredulously. “I have to meet a friend for dinner.”

“Please,” he begged, and you didn’t think you’d ever heard him sound so hopeless before. “Just for ten minutes.”

You hesitated a bit for a moment, but then reluctantly agreed. “Ten minutes.”

Jungwon watched in awe as you interacted with Cleo. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his ginger Ragamuffin so excited.

“Hey, Cleo,” you cooed, cupping her face in your hands. “How are you doing? How’s the most precious girl in the world doing?”

Cleo purred and leaned into your touch. Smiling, you caressed her cheeks and kissed her nose.

Gathering her in your arms, you stood up. The cat rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes.

“I really don’t see Cleo hating anyone,” you said to Jungwon, a small frown settling on your features. “I mean, look at her.”

He sighed and padded towards you, stopping only when he was right beside. His arm brushed against yours. “I don’t get it either.”

And then, as if to prove to you that he wasn’t lying about his cat having something against him, Jungwon lightly petted her.

Cleo’s eyes snapped open and her nails popped out. She pawed at him and he withdrew his hand immediately.

“Oh.”

“I don’t understand why she’s acting this way,” he lamented. “She was good to me until you came along!”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Are you seriously saying this is my fault? Did you even consider the possibility of you being a horrible owner?”

“You did not just say that!” Jungwon looked extremely offended, but you didn’t give a shit. You couldn’t believe he was blaming you for his problems.

“I don’t even need to say anything,” you sneered. “Cleo running away from you to me speaks volumes.”

You saw your neighbour’s jaw clench. His hands curled into fists at his side, and you wondered if you’d gone too far. You know he loved his cat; insinuating that he wasn’t taking good care of her probably hurt.

Besides, you knew it wasn’t true. Jungwon was a huge animal enthusiast. He’d looked after a turtle when he was five and had decided then and there that a career surrounded by animals was what he wanted. He was studying to be a veterinary doctor now.

Before you could open your mouth to apologise, he muttered, “I should have known this was a bad idea.”

Your blood boiled once again. “You really do have a knack for being the most ungrateful asshole anyone could ever come across, Yang.”

In your arms, Cleo meowed and lifted her head from your shoulder, staring daggers at her owner.

“Ungrateful?” Jungwon snorted in disbelief, not noticing the glares the Ragamuffin was sending his way. “You haven’t done anything since you came here! I don’t have shit to be grateful for.”

Cleo growled, and the boy finally acknowledged her anger.

You pointed a finger at Jungwon and fumed, “I take back what I said before. I do see Cleo hating you. You’re a little bitch who—”

“Oh, spare me.” He cut you off with a roll of his eyes, but you paid him no heed and continued,

“Maybe she’d like you better if you liked me better!”

The cat meowed again. The message was very clear. She agreed.

“I do like you...” Jungwon said defensively, but it was a pathetic attempt that convinced no one. Especially not Cleo.

“Yeah, sure.” You let out a humourless laugh. “You’ve obviously been a jerk to me from the very start because you think you’re the unapproachable, dark-haired, broody lead and I’m the sunshine who is supposed to make you open up.”

He gave you a sour look. “You’re not the sunshine.”

“And you’re not the main character you think you are. I’m not going to put up with your attitude anymore. Just stop being a dick and tell me what you have against me.”

Jungwon hesitated for a moment. You watched as he contemplated whether or not to tell you the real reason behind his grudge, and with each passing second, you slowly started to get a good idea of why.

You knew it was going to be something stupid.

He proved you right.

“I was trying to rent the apartment you’re living in. It has a better view and is way bigger. I live with a cat and you live alone—I thought it was unfair that the landlord chose someone who doesn’t even need the space.”

You were speechless for a while. You took your sweet time to wrap your head around the fact that Yang Jungwon was one petty son of a bitch.

“That’s it?” you finally asked. “You hate me because I snagged the apartment you wanted fair and square?”

He didn’t confirm. He didn’t need to.

You exclaimed, “Grow the hell up, Yang! So what if I got it? It’s been six months; move on!”

“You don’t need it as much as I do!” he protested.

“You don’t know that!” you said angrily. “You don’t know me! You never tried to.”

Jungwon opened his mouth to retort, but he didn’t really know what to say. He knew he was the one at fault. Maybe he should have apologised.

Too bad his stubbornness wouldn’t let him go down without a fight.

“It’s not like you ever tried to get to know me either,” Jungwon muttered.

“I brought you home-baked cookies the day I moved in. You said you didn’t want them and shut the door in my face. I invited you to my house-warming party too, but neither did you reply to my email nor show up. You really think I didn’t try to get to know you? To be friends with you?”

Your voice was laced with bitterness, but there were traces of genuine sorrow in it as well. The fire in your eyes from your bickering had winked out and you looked tired.

The boy found his resolve crumbling. Shame and guilt began to build claw at him from the inside. Maybe he had been unnecessarily harsh.

“I—uh..” Jungwon tried, “I’m sorry.”

You raised your eyebrows. “For being so rude to you, I mean, ” he added hastily. “You didn’t deserve it.”

The apology could have been way better but you weren’t going to complain. “Okay.”

Setting Cleo on the floor again, you moved towards the front door of his apartment. “I’ll get going.”

However, before you could turn the knob, Jungwon blurted, “Are—are you free now? Maybe we can hang out and get to know each other?”

“Oh.” You were dumbfounded. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this was not it. “I have to meet a friend tonight. I told you.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears a deep red. “Right,” he squeaked after clearing his throat. “Forget I asked.”

“Well—” you started after a beat of awkward silence— “I won’t be out for that long. Do you wanna come over to watch a movie later?”

“I have to get up early tomorrow.”

You decided that this was clearly not working out—but it wasn’t that bad. So what if Jungwon and you couldn’t hang out? You were on good terms now. That was an immense improvement in your relationship already.

Your neighbour, however, didn’t seem to be in the mood to cut his losses and move on. He tried again, “The weekend?”

You paused. Racked your brain to make sure you didn’t have any other commitments. “The weekend.”

“It’s a date.”

Strangely, you didn’t correct Jungwon. He didn’t take his words back either.

Cleo’s tail swayed in silent approval.

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ghostlymarauder · 4 months

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MONSTER HIGH G3 IS NOT AS INCLUSIVE AS MONSTER HIGH G1

EDIT: THIS IS JUST A RANT, DON'T TAKE IT SO SERIOUSLY LOL

Maybe that sounds crazy. Maybe it's been said a million times. Anyway, I'm just ranting about my 3 am thoughts.

I know in G3 we have non-binary Frankie (who also has a prosthetic leg), and the Draculaura doll is more curvy. But as far as I'm concerned, they took everything else that made Monster High inclusive.

For starters, and I know it was never actually confirmed, but still, Clawdeen is lesbian (bisexual at best). Once again, it was never confirmed, but in my opinion is a theory popular enough for the Monster High management to hear about it.

If they really wanted to make it more inclusive, why did they not confirm Clawdeen sexuality and give her a female romantic interest?

No, they had to break up one of their best couples. This leads me to my next point, what the fuck are Cleo and Deuce doing being separated?

The first G1 dolls literally came as a package. If you got one, you got the other. That's how much of an obvious couple they were. And not only that, in the Boo York movie, they broke up for like five minutes before realizing they didn't want to be without each other.

Which, in my opinion, it's so fucking cute because they come from completely different worlds. Cleo is royalty, Deuce is just a normal guy. Cleo is a little too superficial, and Deuce looks like he never showers. But they love each other and that's enough.

And you know who else loved each other and that was enough? Clawd and Draculaura. What do you even mean with "Clawd likes Cleo"? That man was in love with Draculaura, that man would've done anything for her, and you're telling me they also broke them apart?

Especially since they made Draculaura curvy, it would've been beautiful to see them together. Because it would've been a great plot point to have jock, almost-bully Clawd evolve into falling in love with curvy, smart, witchy Draculaura. But no, they just separated them.

On a completely different note. What the fuck is Gil doing without his tank? Do I even have to explain why this is taking inclusivity out of the Monster High concept? He couldn't live without his tank outside the water. Ergo, he was limited without his tank. If you ask me, this is Monster High equivalent to something like hearing aids (and this is just an example, there are many other things you could compare Gil's tank to)

Also, Ghoulia talking bothers me a lot. First of all, she was the smartest of the group, but we couldn't understand what she was saying, which added a lot of comedy since us, the spectators, were only pretending to know what the fuck Ghoulia's plan was. And I repeat, she was the smartest of the group.

The smartest of the group couldn't communicate like everyone else. I won't even explain why that is fascinating in itself, because it just is and it added so much depth to whole story. And to add more to my problem with G3 Ghoulia, why is she standing straight and walking at a regular speed?

Ghoulia standing like a zombie was, again, to me, a form of inclusivity to all the kids out there who had some walking impediment, or, in general, had any chronic illness that stopped them from moving around. And her walking slow as fuck was just straight-up funny (especially that one web episode where she got a motorcycle).

There's a lot of things I do like about G3, as I think it improves the brand in wonderful ways, but they definitely took some of the most essential things that made Monster High what it was.

#monster high #fashion dolls #rant post #clawdeen wolf #draculaura #frankie stein #cleo de nile #deuce gorgon #ghoulia yelps

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sgiandubh · 4 months

Note

What makes a very mature and educated woman confuse the charisma of Jamie and Claire and fall behind the illusion of Sam and Cait?

Look at this picture and many others, look at Cait's smile and the happiness in her eyes

Look at the color of Tony's lips, I don't need to continue

Below this picture are many pictures of them from many years ago

This man has been a reality since 2015, so let us accept reality even if we do not like it

Note: I would love to read everything you write aside from Outlander and S&C

Dear (b)Itchy Anon,

Ah, yes. You folks are definitely a very predictable bunch, because you simply cannot help yourself and just have to do it. Every. Single. Christmas. Eve. For reasons transparent enough to make you & your kin instantly unlikeable.

I was just thinking, the other day, believe it or not. I was thinking of the disingenuous way you - or someone like you - engaged with @cb4tb on another Christmas Eve and told myself: 'I bet the farm this year it's going to be me'. And here we are, with a rather long - and also, rather curious- comment. What am I going to do with you, Anon? Just write a rather long and ironic answer to your delirious rant, what else?

Calling me 'very mature' made me spit my Pepsi - always better in Romania than the eternal Coca-Cola - and I have to dubiously and cheaply congratulate myself, too. In about six months, you were forced to transition from 'Christ, shippers are stupid' to 'Golly, some -if not most - of them really are educated people'. An apparent paradox that never made you question your surroundings.

For instance, I do not need to wear a turban, sport a cigarette holder, rent a garish tent and call myself Miss Cleo, in order to tell with eerie precision English is not your mother tongue, either. You still do have a big problem with phrasal verbs, because you couldn't have possibly meant I 'fell behind the S&C illusion', but rather that 'I fell for that illusion'. You see, falling behind is 'failing to do something in time' or 'being late with a due payment' or 'being unable to make the same progress as one's peers'. We, shippers, naturally have this kind of superpowers. And seasoned bullshit-o-meters, too.

For your information, I haven't. I explained it at length. There is no possible way to do it if one uses common sense and street smarts only. What I did see, along with thousands of other people, mind you, had absolutely -forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin again - fucking nothing to do with Seamus and Sorcha. I mean, d'oh - is this your best argument, Anon? That sad, wilted talking point? Wow. Just wow.

Then, you totally lose control and take The Scarecrow out of the closet (yes, pun totally intended), in the hope you'll make me screech with dread & horror, I suppose. Exactly which one of the five to ten max Tait pics am I supposed to look at? The one at the marathon, where he checks her pulse? The one in Australia, when he pitifully dangles that stick on a beach? The one with the flute? The fist-in-hand one? The one at this year's IFTA, where she looks through him and he begs for a smile? I shall never know, because you do not add any picture and since I am not Miss Cleo, there's no way I could ever guess. Instead, you describe Neverland in Technicolor, lips included (so help me God, I never looked at McIdiot's lips: I take pride in being mentally sound). Indeed, there is no need to continue, Anon, lest you would insist to ridicule yourself.

This man has been a (questionably) useful prop since 2016, in order to give credence to a narrative. You all know it. You all deny it. You live in a parallel reality, currently embraced by PR. Amen. That does not give you the right to police this fandom and no, your derailed zeal will not get you any Brownie points from C.

Speaking only for myself, I will tell you one last time: I will never blindly accept a convenient compromise fiction just because TPTB and/or PR tell me so.

Note: I doubt my writing interests you. I really do, because I don't deal in fanfic. And even if I am an Oriental, know flattery never worked with me. In fact, I can't stand it.

It's Christmas. Take a break from all this pathetic hatred, Anon: if you have but a cell left of humanity in yourself, you can't possibly be proud of this message and there are far more interesting and meaningful ways to spend this special day. He came for you, too. And that is the most important thing in the world, right now.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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yacinthemorning · 3 months

Text

A Lesson in Listening

Summary: Grian's brother is moving to town and staying with him while he house hunts. While introducing him to his friend, however, Jimmy and Tango seem to make quite a connection. Determined not to suffer through the pining, Grian and Impulse attempt to play matchmaker.

Ships: Grian & Impulse(Platonic), Jimmy/Tango (Romantic), ZITS (Platonic), Grian & Jimmy (Familial)

Warnings: mild acephobia, verbal fight, sibling bullying, misunderstandings, relationship meddling

If Grian was good at one thing, it was connecting people. Not to be a braggart, but he was a sociable sort who was good at reading people, made new friends with ease, and led the pecking order in his circles. It was his great talent, really. One of many.

“Humility not being among them, clearly.”

“Shush.” Grian hissed, whipping his head around to glare daggers into Impulse. The stout man returned it with his trademark innocent smile, as if Grian didn’t know what went on in the head behind it. “You’re distracting me.”

Impulse chuckled. “What’s there to distract from?”

“I’ll have you know mixing friend groups is a very delicate process!” Grian explained, holding his phone to show the opened notepad doc. “Inviting the wrong person could be the difference between success and disaster.”

“I think you’re overthinking things, G. Anyone who’d get along with you will probably get along with your brother.”

Therein lied the problem, though. Jimmy was nothing like Grian. Okay, well, nothing was a bit of a strong word. Jimmy was extroverted and sociable like Grian, and they both had a fondness for mischief and cats. And maybe Jimmy was the first person Grian always invited to karaoke night when he was in town, because no one else was quite as enthusiastic as they were. But other than that they were nothing alike! For one, unlike Grian, Jimmy was a massive loser.

“That’s a bit rude.”

Grian squawked. “Would you please stop reading my mind!”

“You should stop speaking your mind, then.” Impulse shrugged and returned to scrolling through his phone. Grian had assigned him the task of picking out the venue for the night out, being far more familiar with the town than Grian. He paused, “You might as well monologue, I know you want to.”

“I don’t monologue! I’m not Scar.” Another name was struck out on the list. Doc was angry at him right now, anyways. “I just want things to go well, can I not be excited that Tim is moving closer? I’ve barely got to see him more than once every other month for the past several years! By the way, we can’t-“

“Can’t eat red meat so make sure there’s other options, yeah, I know.” A large hand patted down on Grian’s head, ruffling his hair.

He pouted, falling back into the cushions of his couch. “I feel like you do not appreciate the skill needed to coordinate you people. It’s like herding cats, you know.”

“Why do you think we leave it to you?” Impulse leaned over Grian’s shoulder. “Who you got so far, anyways?”

“You, Scar, Gem, and Cleo. Mostly people he’s met before at least.”

A curious hum filled the air and Grian patiently waited for whatever idea was brewing in Impulse’s head. There were a few taps to his screen, then, “You think Tango can come?”

“Tango?” Grian’s eyebrow quirked up. “Isn’t he hauled up in his basement working on some game right now?” While most certainly a good friend, Tango was one Grian went almost just as long without seeing as his brother half a day’s drive away, despite being a street away. Once he had an idea he would dedicate himself to it until it was done.

Impulse sighed. “Yeah. Zed was able to get him outside for an hour last week, and he went on some business trip for a bit, but he also hasn’t eaten in like two days last I checked. It’d be good excuse to drag him out. He’s gonna forget what real people sound like outside his headphones if we don’t.”

“I honestly don’t know how he expects to survive if he moves out from you guys.”

“I already made him promise to give me a set of spare keys when he does.”

Grian tilted his head as he stared at his last message to the man in question. Something about a crazy idea for a remote-controlled cat toy he thought of. In all honesty it wasn’t the worst idea. Not the cat toy- Tango was a strong personality who left a big impression, but he was always polite. Certainly much more introverted than everyone else going, but not nearly as bad as Zed. At least, when he remembered to leave his basement. It couldn’t do them any harm. At the very worst he could sit in the corner and chatter with Impulse. “Yeah, sure, let’s invite him.” He said, already typing.

Impulse gave a thumbs up. “Tell him we’re gonna go to that barbeque place he loves, that’ll get him.”

“I said-”

“They have plenty of chicken and even vegetarian options, I double checked. It’s right across from the bowling alley, too. And call him, don’t text, or he’ll never see it.”

It was a small miracle Tango agreed to go. It was a small miracle he answered his phone at all. The mention of barbeque worked, though. How much of the rest of the evening they could convince him to stick around for had yet to be seen, but Grian was hopeful he’d stay a little while at least.

Impulse could deal with Tango, though. Right now, Grian had his hands full with Jimmy. They were running ten minutes behind because his poor little brother couldn’t bear going a day without a bubble bath. “C’mon, Tim, get in the car!” He shouted from the window.

Jimmy stumbled in, nearly dropping his phone between the seats in the process. “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying, I just had to send a text. I thought this was supposed to be fun?” He whined. The second his door was closed Grian began driving, not waiting for him to get his seatbelt in. He was so tall and lanky he’d just smash his head through the glass whether he had one on or not, anyways.

“It’s called punctuality, Timmy. Something the hosts should have!”

“Alright, I get it.” He slumped back into his seat, caving as he always did. It must be hard, having an older brother who was always right. Of course, it was much harder being said brother, as Grian could attest.

The car ride was quiet, only the radio filling the space while Grian worked to remember where he needed to go. Jimmy was the first to break the silence, “So, I’ve scheduled some tours for this week.”

Grian hummed. “Anything promising?”

“Actually yeah.” He chirped, pulling out his phone. Before he could shove it in Grian’s face he put his hand up. It’d only been a month since he rear-ended a Toyota, and he’ll be damned if he hit someone else. The last thing his friends needed was to reignite the jokes about him being too short to see over the dashboard. Jimmy made a whine but didn’t try again. “There’s a place not far out of town in the farmlands. It’s small and old, but it’s an actual house with over half an acre.”

“I dunno why you care so much about land. A condo downtown is way better.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? I could have a garden.”

“I guess.” The obnoxiously large sign for the barbeque glared high above the trees and buildings around it just up ahead. “Oh, we’re already here. Should be mostly people you met before, by the way.”

“That’s fine.”

Pulling into the parking lot, Grian could already see Impulse’s minivan and Cleo’s beat up old car. He clicked his tongue as he pulled up next to them. “See! I told you we were late, everyone’s already here.”

“Oh, come off it, they probably just got here, it’s fine.”

It was not fine, the host should always be first, but he wouldn’t expect Jimmy to understand. The two squabbled all the way inside, only stopping to tell the waiter their booking. A nice large table on the patio already had most of Grian’s friends sitting around, still having yet to be served even drinks. Everyone but Tango despite his phone, unmistakable with its Guy Fieri case, on the table. Bathroom, maybe? He was always terrible about going before he left. Scar was the first to spot them. “G! Timmy! You’re here!”

“That we are.” Grian mumbled and turned to Impulse. “Where’s-”

“Hey, Grian, just in time!” The scratchy voice of Tango shouted too-loudly behind them. He saw Jimmy jump, and both brothers swivelled on their heels. Tango jolted back a bit, friendly wave shrinking to his side at the reaction. His eyes grew wide, locking with Jimmy’s which mirrored him like two deer caught in headlights. “Oh!” He squeaked unintentionally.

It jogged Jimmy out of his fright enough to look away, though Grian took suspicious note of the redness of his ears. He gave his baby brother a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t seem to see it.

“Right, well, Tango, Cleo, this is my brother, Ti-”

“It’s Jimmy.” Jimmy jumped in at lightning speed, holding his hand out for Tango to shake with a wide smile. “The name’s Jimmy.” Tango hesitated for a second, before tentatively shaking back with an equally tentative smile.

“Tango, of the Tek variety. Nice to finally meet you.”

“I thought you said your brother was Tim?” Cleo asked.

Impulse scratched at his bread. “Honestly, I thought it was.”

“It’s not, my name’s Jimmy. Don’t trust anything this man says, he’s a menace.” Jimmy huffed, which got far too enthusiastic an agreement from nearly the whole table for Grian’s liking. Behind him, Tango snuck around back to the table. In a baffling move, as far as Grian was concerned, he paused at the empty chair across from his own and pulled it out. He nodded towards Jimmy, who muttered a sheepish thanks. Grian narrowed his eyes at the engineer, but he seemed to be pointedly not looking at him. A shared look from Impulse, though, let him know he wasn’t the only one who took notice.

“Well, then, Jimmy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cleo reached over the table, offering their hand.

Chatter very quickly picked itself up once they were all sat down. Most was directed towards Jimmy, asking what he did and the places he was looking at and how on earth did he get his hair that perfect. It was a bit awkward with him sitting at the end. Given the middle seat where Grian now sat was also empty, he suspected Tango’s little gentleman’s stunt had messed up the seating arrangement Impulse intentionally left.

It wasn’t the last. When their drinks came Tango had ordered some crazy bright red fruity slushy monstrosity like he was on vacation or something. For him it might as well be. Something that brightly coloured, with a fruit skewer at that, was basically tempting the gods as far as Jimmy was concerned, who looked more dazzled by it than the already bright blue drink he ordered. Only a sip had been taken before Tango was nudging it towards him, asking, “Wanna try?” Which he wholeheartedly accepted.

Honestly, between that and the conversation somehow always managing to close into a back and forth between the pair, Grian wanted to gag. Did his brother have absolutely no shame? Or maybe Grian was just bitter he had to order something lighter as their driver. It was at least funny to watch Scar also ask for a sip and be completely ignored.

A large platter was ordered over individual meals. It was just easier, when everyone wanted to try this and that. Astonishingly, it was probably the first time Grian had witnessed Tango eat a vegetable, when he tried one of the skewers the brothers ordered on the side. That was the power of good barbeque, he supposed.

They finally called it after Gem won the third round of bowling in a row. Grian tapped against the open door of his car, glaring holes in the back of his brother’s head, who was too busy saying goodbye to Tango to notice. “Come ooon Tim!” He finally shouted after the third obnoxious little giggle they shared. When he turned, Grian narrowed his eyes. You ain’t subtle. The pair finally said goodbye for real, and Jimmy ran to get in the car before Grian decided to drive off without him. He’d barely gotten his seatbelt on before he was furiously typing something on his phone. Really?

“So, how was it?” Grian asked.

“It was fun, your friends seem cool.” Was the distracted response.

“Mhm…” He leaned closer over his shoulder. “And how was Tango?”

If it was possible to jump out of one’s skin then Jimmy had jumped out of his skin, muscles, and bones. “Huh?” He squeaked, face red and eyes bugged. Grian only returned it with an unimpressed eye roll.

“Oh please. You nearly dropped a bowling ball on your foot while swooning.”

“Well… He’s a cool guy, isn’t he?”

And that shut Grian up. More efficiently than he would like to admit. He expected Jimmy to deny it, or be too flustered to say much of anything. When Grian failed to reply Jimmy went back to his phone, tapping away with a smile. There was that obnoxious giggle again.

This was not one of the issues Grian anticipated having when his brother told him he was moving.

“So, how do we set them up?”

Impulse Hummed, spending far too long reading the contents of a can of cream of mushroom like it wasn’t the same can he always bought. “Who?”

“ Who? ” Grian mocked back. “Tim and Tango!”

“Do we need to?” Three more cans joined the first, before they moved on to the broths. Grian threw the bouillon in the cart before his companion could grab a carton that would languish in the back of his fridge. “They seem to be doing fine on their own.”

“No, trust me. I know Tim. He was literally living with his last boyfriend before he realized they were dating and that he liked him. He’s an idiot.”

“And Tango hasn’t exactly been leaving the basement much lately.” Impulse conceded, grabbing a carton of pho broth anyways. Acceptable, Grian supposed.

“So, then, any ideas?”

They paused before entering the next aisle. The larger man’s face twisted in thought. “Well, we could invite him to D&D, run a oneshot, and have their characters drink a love potion until they get the hint.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea, absolutely not.” He wrote it down in his phone for a future session.

“Another dinner?”

“What are the odds of getting Tango out of the house twice?”

“Probably a lot higher than you’d think with how they were acting.”

“What if I gave Timmy a tour of your house and just locked the basement door behind him?”

“You know I’m starting to think we might be bad at this and should leave it to someone else.”

“Nonsense!” Grian grabbed the first bottle of soya sauce he spotted, much to Impulse’s protests. He wasn’t going to sit and wait for him to match the prices to the ounces. “Look, I know Timmy best, and you know Tango best. Logically, there’s no better pair of heads to crack together for this. They’ll thank us at the wedding.”

A jar of pickled bamboo shoots found its way into the cart beside the biggest bag of basmati rice Impulse could pick up. He had to catch his breath before he continued. “Listen, Grian, do you need to… talk, or something?”

“What?” Grian’s head whipped around from the wall of spices he was mulling over. “About what?”

Impulse hunched his shoulders up, cringing slightly. “I dunno, y’know… You’re planning your brother’s wedding to your friend while picking out my groceries for me. I’m not even sure how you found out I was grocery shopping or found me in the store. I don’t think that’s normal, healthy person behaviour.”

“I am so completely normal and healthy!” He said just a bit too loud.

“You know you can talk to me if you need to.”

This was getting nowhere real fast. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Impulse sighed. “I’ll help.”

“Good. Then, what’s the plan?”

In the end, the plan was little more than ‘wait and see’ with a side sprinkling of putting the pair in as much direct contact as possible. This turned out to be much more work than they anticipated, however. Jimmy had always been a socialite, but he seemed to be gone every other day viewing houses or visiting locations. Meanwhile, Tango did as he does and made himself busy constantly. Every group activity Grian planned was lucky to get even one of them, and he was about to lose his damn mind.

Their big break finally showed itself one evening, when Jimmy dropped in with Grian. Well, it was more like Grian promised to drive him to do some errands and made a left turn away from the mall and directly to the ZITS house instead. A decision Jimmy was not familiar enough with the town yet to notice until it was too late. Just the sound of Jimmy’s voice managed to draw Tango upstairs to see what was going on in his kitchen, where the rest of them were chatting.

Immediately the annoying little giggles started up again. If there was one thing in this world that could make Grian try to keep them apart, it was that giggle.

“By the way, Jimmy,” Skizz piped up from where he leaned against the sink. “You still need a lift tomorrow?”

When had Jimmy found time to befriend Skizz? Who knows. Knowing the two of them they probably bumped into each other on the street and kept talking till the sun went down. Extroverts were so exhausting. (He ignored the little Impulse-ish voice nagging that Grian was also something of an extrovert.)

“Yeah, sorry, I appreciate it.”

“Where you going?” Impulse asked.

“Got another house tour.” Tango of all people replied. Maybe that wasn’t all that surprising, though, given the amount Grian has spotted Jimmy texting the past few days.

“Is that so? Will you be going with them?” Grian teased, but instead got a toothy grin back.

“Yessiree!”

Really? Inviting your crush house hunting? Was that forward or just weird? Either way, it was an opportunity. “You know, Tim, you haven’t invited me to go with you.” He whined, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

Unfortunately, while Jimmy’s talents were sparse, this was one area where he outranked Grian by a factor of magnitudes and had unlocked absolute immunity, or something. “Yeah. That was on purpose.” He said bluntly, not even looking away from Tango, who laughed. In fact, everyone laughed. Even Impulse, the traitor.

Grian wouldn’t give up so easily, however. “Well I think you should. So where is it?”

“What? You’ll just embarrass me, I’m not telling you!” He squeaked, finally looking at his kind, sweet, dear older brother.

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not!”

And that was how Jimmy ended up in a headlock on ZITS’s kitchen floor, Impulse reluctantly using Jimmy’s phone to text Grian the address on his calendar. Tango, simp that he was, managed to distract Grian by jokingly calling Jimmy honey, forcing Grian to let go in order to pretend to hurl, during which time Jimmy made his escape back to the car.

He won though, and the next day when Jimmy pulled up with Skizz and Tango to the house tour, Grian and Impulse were already waiting there with the realtor.

“I can’t believe you.” Jimmy dragged his hands down his face. “Don’t you have to, I don’t know, work?”

“Jokes on you, I’m my own boss.” Grian puffed up his chest.

Tango patted Jimmy on the back and turned the both of them towards the poor, confused realtor. “Let’s just get this over with.” He soothed, to which Jimmy gave him a saccharine smile.

The property was ridiculously nice. It wasn’t especially big, but it was lined by woodlands and already had a garden, albeit in need of some severe TLC. There was even an old chicken coop to the side of the house that only needed new fencing and cleaning. The house itself was a one-story cutesy cottage-like thing. It was older, but whomever had lived in it last had the wiring redone and appliances replaced. The bedroom was big, too, as they tended to be in these older houses, and the bathroom had a proper large tub. There was a spare office room with a nice big window to the garden. The garage was separate, and large enough to be a workshop. All that while being well within the range of good internet and still close enough one could walk to town if they really wanted to.

It was, essentially, Jimmy’s dream home. The only issue Jimmy seemed to have was the fact that the wall between the living room and kitchen had been knocked out for a more modern open concept design with the largest windows in the house.

“It’d probably be a pain to heat in winter, right?” He asked no one in particular.

Grian knew jack all about houses, and only shrugged. It still wasn’t that big, so he imagined not. Impulse and Skizz seemed to mull the idea over a little longer. Tango, though, saw an opportunity, and Grian had to give him credit because the man took it without hesitation. His arm was around Jimmy’s shoulder, toothy grin leaned in a bit too close. “Well, that sounds like a good excuse to cuddle up in bed all winter, hm?”

Jimmy’s cheeks turned pink. He muttered something under his breath that made Tango chuckle. Grian rolled his eyes towards Impulse, who seemed almost too shocked by his friend’s forwardness to notice.

More questions were asked, things Grian was glad he never had to worry about as a condo guy. Owning a home seemed like so much work, but Jimmy had lists upon lists. Of course, it was Jimmy, and even with lists he forgot certain things. But Tango seemed ready to pick up the slack with his own barrage of inquiries.

“I think,” Jimmy said, looking at the kitchen with a bit of awe. “I think this might be it, guys.”

“Yeah?” Tango’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement. Jimmy nodded.

The realtor stepped up. “There aren’t any other serious inquiries at the moment, I think you have a good chance if you put in the asking price.” Jimmy nodded, and the realtor went off to his car to make a call.

Grian pursed his lips at his brother, though. “Are you sure you can afford that? I know you’ve saved up and all, but it’s still a lot.”

Jimmy beamed though, clearly overwhelmed with excitement. “Of course, you think we would look at houses we can’t afford?”

“I mean if I’m honest kind of, but- wait. We?”

“I’ll have you know, despite the beliefs of certain individuals, my credit score’s top notch.” Tango patted his chest proudly. “And between the two of us we have more than enough savings for the down payment.”

Grian felt the wires in his brain short circuit and reboot. An unholy screech came from his throat. “What!”

Jimmy and Tango both side-eyed each other, their awkward smiles caught between guilty and like they were ready to burst out laughing. “You… Thought I could buy a home on my own?” Jimmy asked, hiccupping in the middle.

Impulse looked just as dumbfounded. “When did you work this out?” His voice came out hoarse.

It was Tango’s turn to be confused, raising an eyebrow. “Um, months ago? I told you, Impy.”

“You said you were thinking about moving out, not buying a house with a stranger!”

“Wait-” Skizz burst out laughing, pointing at Grian and Impulse. “You guys really didn’t know?”

“No, why do you know!”

“Cause I listen to my roommates?”

“Hold on. Months ago?” Grian pushed them out of the way, getting into his brother’s face.

It seemed Tango was no longer able to hold in his laughter, leaning on Jimmy for support while Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly couldn’t tell if you’d actually forgotten or if this was some bit.” He admitted.

“We’ve been together for almost three years.” Tango wheezed out between cackles.

“Excuse me?” Balked Grian. “Since when? You’ve never met!” His head whipped between the two. How on earth-

A finger twirled absently in the air as Jimmy tried to explain. “Do you remember your Halloween party? The one me and Joel attended, where Tango was dressed up as an imposter?”

“Yeah?” It was the biggest party he’d ever held, how could he forget? His brow creased. “But that doesn’t make any sense, I never got to introduce you two cause you both went… home… early.” Grian’s eyes went wide as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

Tango leaned against Jimmy’s shoulder with a smirk. “There it is.”

“Oh. My god.”

“I told you he doesn’t ever listen to me.” Jimmy groaned.

“You two-”

“Yeah.”

Grian gasp cracked. “Jimmy you slut !”

“ Excuse me? ” Jimmy shouted back in equal amounts of disbelief and anger.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the realtor pause in the entryway, then slowly back out of view once more.

“You heard me!”

“What do you think we did!”

“Well you weren’t enjoying my party, that’s for sure!”

“Okay, okay, everybody calm down.” Skizz stepped in, pushing Grian towards Impulse, who seemed to hold Grian back on instinct more than anything as he was still lost in shock.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Impulse asked, giving his housemate a look of betrayal. It was returned with concern.

“I did? I swear I did.”

“Dipple Dop, he told us he was busy in call with his partner all the time. He extended his work trips several times.”

“That was Timmy?” He stumbled back, leaning on the counter. “I thought he meant, like, an MMO buddy.”

“Yeah, and you certainly never told me!” Grian huffed, which Jimmy returned.

“I did tell you, but you didn’t listen! Or did you just do that thing like with Scott where you thought I wasn’t aware I was dating the guy I lived with for two months just because I told you we hadn’t-”

“You know what?” Skizz clapped his hands together. “I think we all need to just take a deep breath, okay? Everybody just breathe. In,” He took a deep breath, of which his housemates joined in while the brothers continued to glare at each other. “And out.” They all let out a long sigh.

A brief silence fell over the group, only interrupted by a nervous knock at the door. The realtor stuck his head in, eyes darting between the group. “Um, Mister Solidarity, Mister Tek, could I speak to you now?”

“Yes, one second.” Jimmy said, voice tight. The pair left to talk outside.

Grian and Impulse went home after that, waiting for the other three to return. They said little, Grian fuming while Impulse stared at his lap like his dog just died. Zed popped in to say he was going out, at which point he was let in on the day’s events and gave them both odd looks. Had they really been the only ones who didn’t know?

By the time everyone else arrived back at the house they’d pulled themselves together somewhat. Not entirely, but enough to ask questions without shouting.

“So, you’re really leaving?” Impulse asked, voice almost watery. Tango’s posture softened with his smile, and pulled the larger man into a big hug.

“Oh, buddy, I told you I was gonna. I’m a big boy now!”

“Yeah, but… I dunno. We’ve lived together since college. I didn’t think this would actually happen…”

Skizz rubbed his back. “Hey, he ain’t movin’ cross country, he’s just down the road. We’ll see him all the time.”

“Yeah! I promise, Impy, I ain’t going nowhere.”

The three continued to talk among each other, comforting their friend, so Grian left them be. Instead, he turned his attention onto Jimmy, who still looked huffy, with his arms crossed and a glare squarely on Grian.

“I told you.”

“Well, maybe you should have told me better.” Grian turned his nose up as an almost automatic response. Jimmy threw his arms in the air and stomped off to the doorway, and immediately Grian felt the regret. He chased after his little brother. “Wait, Tim. I’m…” A warbled wheeze escaped his throat, straining to get the dreaded word out. “Ssso-…rry... That I didn’t listen.”

The shift was near-instant, disdain laxing into smugness. “There, was that so hard?”

“Immensely.”

“Oh, come off it, you big baby.”

“I just don’t get it.” Grian grabbed his hair. “How did I miss that you two were dating? Why didn’t Tango say something when we invited him to dinner?”

“Well, it probably started with the fact that you introduce me to everyone as Tim and his boyfriend’s name is Jimmy.” He sneered, eyebrow raised.

Well, he had him there. Not that he would ever admit that to his brother’s face. “I still can’t believe you ditched my party to hook up with my friend.”

“Oh my god, we didn’t hook up!” Jimmy threw his head back. “We just went to get Mcdonald’s and watch movies because Tango almost had a panic attack at the number of people you invited and couldn’t breathe.”

“In my defence, I didn’t expect that many people to actually show up.”

“Either way, stop projecting.”

“Wh- excuse me?”

“Tango’s the same as me. I can assure you nothing like that would ever happen.”

Grian pouted. Well, at least they were happy and close by. “Fine, I’ll forgive you if you can get Tango to come to roller derby night.”

“Uh, I don’t have anything I need to be forgiven for, and I’m not going to make Tango do something he doesn’t want to do.”

“But Tim, consider: Tango falling on his butt in the most hideous disco suit.”

That gave Jimmy pause, thinking for a solid moment before a smile stretched behind his hand. “Alright, fine.”

“Yes!” Grian pumped his fist into the air, nearly smacking Impulse in the face as the group joined them.

“What’s going on out here?”

“Nothing.” Both brothers replied, matching smiles immediately getting them suspicious looks. Jimmy pushed past them to grab Tango’s hand and drag him towards the basement. “C’mon, we have to finish planning.”

“Yessir.” Tango saluted with a chuckle.

As they retreated, Grian shouted after them. “Oh, Tango!”

“Yeah?” Bless his soul, he was too busy giving his partner a doofy look that was wiped away the second he turned to see Grian. He did his best to bore a hole through the man’s skull.

“You better watch your back. I know where you sleep.”

“Well, I’d hope so.” Grian didn’t like that grin. “Be weird if you didn’t know where your brother was.”

And that was how Grian began to plan the death of Tango Tek.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #grian #impulsesv #trafficshipping #solidaritek #team rancher #rancher duo #fanfiction #fanfic #hermitpires #traffic series #alternate universe #modern au #sharing a cupcake

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slashmagpie · 5 months

Text

“Okay, but seriously,” Grian says, long after the session’s over, when the long night falls and the three of them are camping out in Bdubs’ bedroom because it’s the only bedroom they’ve got. (Other than the shrine, of course, but that’s outside, with the dark and the mobs, and it’d been trapped earlier, so. Probably best not to sleep there, really.) “What is it with you two and Bdubs?”

Cleo and Etho glance at each other. “What do you mean?” Etho asks, trying for light-heartedness and not quite sticking the landing. It’s not his fault his heart is doing something weird in his chest.

“You know, the whole, complimenting Bdubs thing?”

“I thought it was Etho’s task.”

“I was pretending it was my task so the yellows wouldn’t call me out.”

“Huh. Smart.”

“Thank you, Cleo! See, I can be smart sometimes.”

“Sure. Sometimes.”

“No, but—” Grian breaks off, seeming to struggle with his words. “You built him a bedroom. You didn’t build me a bedroom. You didn’t even build you guys a bedroom! I guess I’m just—I’m a little confused—”

“Well, that’s just Bdubs,” Cleo says with a wave of her hand.

“But what does that mean,” says Grian, distressed.

“It’s just—it’s—you know! It’s Bdubs!” Cleo also sounds kind of distressed, now. “He’s—you know—he’s got that weird thing with Etho.”

“Hey, don’t put this on me!” Etho cries, and now he’s distressed, too. That’s the problem with the three of them, he thinks: they’re all easily distressed. And that’s a bad thing to be, in a game like this. “You guys have a weird thing too!”

“We do not!”

“You do! He doesn’t call me Mom, you know.”

“That was—that was last season. It’s a different universe. It’s fine.”

“Uh-huh. And Third Life…?”

“You—! Well, what about Last Life, huh? What about that, Etho?”

“Hey now, that’s unfair!”

“Mhm! Maybe you’re being unfair, right now! Maybe I should get to be unfair back!”

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Grian says.

The two of them go silent. They’re not looking at each other anymore. Suddenly, Etho is grateful for his mask. He has such a terrible poker face, is the thing. If he didn’t have the mask—

“Bdubs is like a baby duck,” Cleo says.

Etho frowns. “Excuse me?”

“He’s like a baby duck,” Cleo repeats, “and he just latches onto you and starts following you around.”

“Imprints,” Etho offers.

“Yes. That. And then it’s like… well what am I gonna do? Leave the baby duck alone? To die in the cold? I may be cruel, but I’m not that cruel.”

She nods, like this explanation makes sense. It makes plenty of sense to Etho. He nods in agreement.

“He’s a grown man,” Grian says, despair in his voice.

“You just don’t get it, Grian,” Etho says.

“No, I don’t!” Grian agrees. “At this point, I’m not even sure I want to get it! I don’t have to go along with the bit anymore. I don’t have to be part of—whatever this is.”

“You don’t want to be part of our alliance anymore, Grian?” Cleo asks, something sharp in her voice.

“No, no, I didn’t say that!” Grian holds his hands up in surrender. “I want to be part of the alliance! I just—don’t want to be part of whatever’s going on with Bdubs.”

“Oh, well that’s fine,” Cleo says, relaxing back against the wall. “You don’t have to be.”

“Right,” Grian says, sounding doubtful, unsure. “And what Etho said, about the, uh…” He mumbles the word foursome so quietly it’s almost inaudible. Etho’s got good ears, though.

So does Cleo, apparently, who promptly kicks Etho in the ribs.

“Ow!”

“That’s not a thing,” Cleo says. “Very much not a thing. Ignore Etho, he’s—he—he sucks.”

“Mean to me,” Etho says, but he’s grinning beneath the mask.

“No, no, we’re besties. I’d never be mean to you.”

“Except for when you are.”

“Except for when I am, sure. But you deserve that.”

“I don’t understand you two,” Grian says with a slow shake of his head. “I don’t understand you guys at all.”

“Aww, Grian, you’ll get used to it,” Etho says.

“I don’t understand you either, so we’re even,” says Cleo, and Grian barks out a laugh.

#secret life #spoilers #fanfiction #trafficshipping #< just in case???#i don't know. i spent the entirety of cleo's episode with my jaw dropped staring at the screen speechless #what is wrong with them < my thoughts on clethubs and also the title of this ficlet in my docs #magpie feather quill

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hermitscratch · 1 month

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6., and Scarian please!

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

6. A desperate kiss, Scar/Grian, 639 words

Grian hailed Double Life as one of his greatest ideas yet.

The concept presented so much potential: bind the players in randomly generated pairs and make surviving a them problem. Sharing a life so completely opened doors to new strategies, new necessities, and most importantly, new collaborations. Grian had worked out the odds. With their group of fourteen, the likelihood was that most of the pairs would be between people who had never before teamed in the game, or in some cases, never really spoken outside of it.

Joel and Etho were a great example of the former. They'd both flown the Dogwarts banner, back in Third Life, but their interactions were brief and non-committal. The only unified front Grian can recall them ever posing was when a TNT cannon had been involved. They shared a common goal now, and it didn't take long for them to fall in step with each other, especially when they wanted to drum up some mischief.

On the other side of things, there were Tango and Jimmy. The only pair to be united in death, and as much as Grian would like to write them off, once the dirt of their explosive meeting settled, they took to being soulmates like fish to water. Losing everything would do that to you, Grian supposed; Tango and Jimmy returned from that respawn with nothing gained but each other, and that was enough.

Grian probably wouldn't break up those pairs. Maybe some of the ones that weren't as enthused about their matches, like Scott and Pearl. Or the ones that didn't seem to click at all, like Cleo and Martyn. In the long run, it didn't matter much. Grian would take anybody, so long as it wasn't Scar.

Scar, who went the entire session thus far laying claim to other soulmates.

Scar, who misconstrued Grian's concern for his wellbeing as plain early-game kindness.

After the second failed attempt at telling Scar that the universe's sick sense of humor had seen it fit to tie them together, again, Grian started to wonder if the ignorance was willful.

They didn't have much longer before session hours ended. At least Scar was easy to find, sat at the edge of the jungle and surrounded by the odd, cat-like pandas he'd taken a liking to.

The first try was a bust. Scar looked away when the pandas followed him, the flash of damage shooting through them both going entirely unnoticed, and Grian made a frustrated sound. Four hearts gone, for nothing.

They could only afford one more hit. Grian reset the dripstone, repositioned Scar beneath it, and told him firmly, look at me.

Scar looked up.

The dripstone's point nailed him between the eyes and crumbled. Scar yelped, brushing blood and residue from his face, not even noticing Grian in the same position. They were down to two hearts. They were too hungry to regenerate.

Grian felt a hair's width from losing his mind. He took Scar's face and forced them to locked eyes. It's me, He wanted to scream, Not the allay or the stupid pandas, me. It's always me, always us, don't you see that?

It's been that way since the desert, back in Third Life. Together in the beginning, together in the end. Scar was flippant, clumsy. He was also strong, and clever, and fiercely protective of what he valued. Resources, bases, allies.

Grian.

Grian recalled a handful of lilacs and poppies, and an uncharacteristically small voice asking if they could still be friends with the same look in his eyes that Grian was seeing now. Cautious, hopeful.

He pulled Scar forward. It's us against the world again, He thought desperately as he stole Scar's very breath. When Scar kissed him back, hands holding his waist and pressed chest to chest, Grian thought Scar might have finally understood.

#Scarian #GoodtimeswithScar #Grian #Hermitshipping #Trafficshipping #Double Life #MCYT #Hermitfic #Asks #poet-unkown #Scar #Astral Library #My Writing #I challenged myself to try a different style out with this one #More focus on thoughts than dialogue #It's interesting?#Feels a bit lacking though #Maybe that's just me

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siriannatan · 1 year

Text

Prep & Punk - Flower Husbands

AU by @vyeoh, it's really cool and stuff and all their art is really good

AO3

[Treebark thingy from this AU]

Jimmy would literally rather be anywhere but where he was now. In Scott's bedroom. Trying to focus on maths. With only him and Scott in the whole house. Completely unable to focus.

Why was Jimmy spending his weekend with Scott and not Grian and Joel? As much as studying wasn't a 'bad boy' thing, almost failing most his classes was apparently even less so. So their math teacher assigned Jimmy a tutor - Scott apparently volunteered to spend his time trying to get some information into Jimmy's head. He had no idea why after their last rather messy break up and the whole Tango thing... jimmy tried really hard to think about geometry and not that. It wasn't all that hard. But quite frankly focusing on anything right now was a bit difficult.

In the past three months, he spend pretty much ignoring Scott's existence he forgot about a certain habit Scott had. He liked to wear skirts. Not a bad thing in the slightest. Jimmy was all for everyone wearing whatever they wanted. He, Grian and Joel had their leather jackets. Cleo, Scar and Bdoubs their weird old people shades, and Tango and his friends had their ties. Scott and Martyn had Pink. The capital 'P' is not a typo. Literally every Wednesday the two showed up in pink. And back when Jimmy was dating Scott he himself would wear something pink to fit Scott better.

Grian and Joel still poked fun at him for that.

No. The skirt was neither nothing new or a problem in itself. The problem was how much of Scott's legs it exposed, making Jimmy's brain unable to think about anything but that. And suddenly realise he's missing Scott. But who could blame him? Scott was damn pretty and smart and... just Scott. And that maybe his marks were better when he'd sit around Scott and Martyn - very unhappy that Scott would explain everything to Jimmy at least three times - studying. Jimmy was no Grian or Joel, just hearing about a thing during the class was not nearly enough for him.

A sudden flick to his forehead had him looking up at Scott's face. It was no less distracting than the skirt. "Eyes up here Jim," he chuckled and Jimmy felt a weird pang. He never called him back when... "Have you heard a single word of what I just said?"

"Juliet's potion only made her look like she died?" Jimmy tried to scrabble together something they talked about in the past hour. He instantly knew he was wrong by the sigh Scott let out.

"We're at maths, Pythagorean theorem," he said but did not sound the slightest bit angry. Just a bit disappointed and maybe sad. "You didn't use to be that bad, Jim, no matter how short of a skirt I wore in the past. What happened?" he asked, pushing some hair off of Jimmy's face.

Jimmy just shrugged. He was not about to admit he didn't really study without Scott there. "I don't know," he shrugged instead and tried to focus on the pale pink, full of colourful side comments and sticky notes page of Scott's notebook. Scott's notes were always so clear and easy to understand. Jimmy sat through more than one session of Scott working on them and technically understood how it worked but was still beyond impressed. "I guess I was busy with other things..."

"I know I'm probably the least 'bad boy' person you know but you know you can always come and ask me if you don't understand something?" Scott sighed, leaning back and gently kicking Jimmy under the low table they were sitting on a fluffy carpet by. "I know you probably like Tango better... I can see when I've lost but... I don't want you to fail school. Not when I know you're smarter than that," he said, looking away from Jimmy, all slumped and sad and Jimmy felt mildly like a jerk.

He broke Scott's heart with a damn text. Managed to stay together with Tango for only like a month until they both realised they are too different. And then spend two more months avoiding Scott and admitting his own feelings. And throwing all the studying Scott practically dragged him through away... "No... Me and Tango... We weren't all that compatible... Not that way. He's cool to hang out with but most of the time I have no idea what he's talking about, it's damn hard to keep up with him..."

"Jim... please don't..." Scott protested and pounded the table. Glaring at Jimmy with teary eyes.

"I'm not," Jimmy stopped him and gently took his and in both of his. "I've spent three months being an idiot and I'm frankly done with that. I missed you. I missed carrying your bag. I missed you leaning on me when there are no free chairs or we're stuck in a line. I missed sitting silently while you study. I even missed Martyn's grumbling. But mostly I missed listening to you talk and just being around you... I missed you Scott," Jimmy really hoped he managed to express what he just realised. That his grouchy and angry phase was just him denying he was missing Scott playing with his hair and playing with Scott's hair. "I miss you so damn much..." he added, barely a whisper, not daring to look away from Scott for even a second.

"You promise... you promise it's all true and nothing but?" Scott sniffed, staring at his held by Jimmy's hands.

"I do, Scott," Jimmy nodded. He was never so sure of anything he's ever said.

"So it'd be okay if I said we should have a break and maybe a nap?" Scott asked with a pout.

Jimmy had nothing against a break and a nap. Maybe ended up texting home he'd be staying over at Scott's and not at all telling Grian and Joel where he was the whole weekend. And maybe Scott wore Jimmy's leather jacket the whole Monday. And maybe there was a bright pink hairpin in Jimmy's hair.

#my stuff #my stories #fanfic #fanfiction #trafficshipping #traffic smp #limited life #limited life shipping #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #punk x prep au

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trafficyuri-polycule · 5 months

Note

Pearl has many vocal stims. She loves to sing or hum a tune. And the others love to hear it. Making different noises, like clicking and taping, is essential to Pearl. Her keychain has a few stim toys with higher or lower sound for various situations.

Gem wears cute cat-eared noise-canceling headphones. She can sometimes go nonverbal, which made her frustrated, when she couldn't properly communicate something. After all of them helping Gem create her own unique communication cards, it helped her get her needs met better and feel less anxious.

Cleo had a problem in the past with picking their own skin, damaging it, and biting their nails and cuticles. The girls gifted them some stim toys with good texture, and also often can give Cleo their hand for them to gently touch and massage the hand (it also gives warmth and feeling of endearment)

When overwhelmed, Lizzie doesn't like the feeling of touch, so everyone created ways to cheer her up and make her feel comfortable, like drawing beside each other or siting in the garden.

They love to all bake together, when one or more of them feel overwhelmed. The smell of fresh bakery afterwards is pleasant and eating pastry with just the right texture and taste for everybody is nice.

Anon I cannot express how much I love you rn, I’m autistic with sensory issues and I just love this so so soooo much and I literally kin all of them. These are all just amazing I can’t put it into words !!

#trafficshipping #trafficyuri #ldshadowlady #pearlescentmoon #gempearl #gemlizzie #gemcleo #shadowrot #pearleo #pearlizzie #shadowmoon #shadowtay #ask box

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lectern-fullcauldron · 2 years

Text

A-Z hermit index

hermit summaries: looking for a hermit? here's some (all 26)

bdubs: perfect redstoner. artist. he'll build the most beautiful house you've ever seen as a backdrop for a joke he's doing. he'll see a rake lying on the floor and ask 'is anyone going to step on that so it hits them in the face?' and not wait for an answer. he'll shout at horses and hermits alike (don't tell etho). he's painting with blocks for fun rn

cubfan: he's insane. he takes on massive projects and completes them. he'll build a wall out of ancient debris if the aesthetic calls for it. he knows the game like a master, he'll use it to bemuse you. he's invented biomes, he's invented machines, he looked at parkour and decided it looked like fun. he'll drop anything to help a friend out

docm77: cower before this croc wearing dad. he really wants to be scary. pranking people makes him laugh so hard he snorts. he has the technical world in his ear and mojang's dev team on his heels. he doesn't know how to make a video shorter than an hour. he loves to roleplay to the sound of heavy metal. he'll rap at you. dork

etho: minecraft god. menace. interiors only. does what he wants. speaking of llamas... he won't turn up if it's work. he will if it's hanging out. his block palettes make a regular minecrafter cower in fear. he made a google-searchable storage system for fun. he avoids minecraft tax like the plague. has his own minecraft update

false: queen of heads, hearts, and body parts. the server's designated pvp-er. master builder. will dig down to bedrock. it calls to her, she can't help it. a little quiet, a little shy. dry sarcasm. mayor of falsewell, sheriff. always down for an unsuccessful shop if there's a pun

gem: gem is great! do you want a birch tree with that? people look at her and find themselves doing redstone for her and bringing her things. she's very sweet. she'll kill you. she's building a birch tree in someone's base right now, i can feel it. she's a landscaper, a builder, an artist

grian: this man is Trouble. half builder, half mischief machine. if he sees something he's not supposed to touch, he's got his fingers in it. he's stealing diamonds. he's starting wars. he plays the long game with his lore. he's desperate to resist authority. he will not build the back of anything. he'll break redstone. if he thinks something will be funny, he's convinced to do it

hypno: cryptid. menace. he's a little quiet because he's off figuring out how to get the others to sell him their souls. he's in charge of the website. he'll build a nice little home. he's great at hiding things

impulse: this man is in charge of villagers and sorting systems. he is rich with emeralds. he'll redo a build if he doesn't like it. he joined the server to build them a witch farm. buy his totems of undying. he is kind and generous. he's always willing to play along with whatever nonsense is happening. he loves to laugh

iskall: iskall has a whole catalogue of noises. he likes to montage them. he wants to build a big farm. he wants to say hallo to a block of gravel. he wants to laugh at mumbo. his shops are not about the profits, but about the redstone experience. he likes to domesticate biomes. he built a villager cannon. one day he'll finish a pvp arena. IskallMAN is hermitcraft's superhero. his hobby is making stress laugh

jevin: he covered a megabase with buttons once. jevin goes hard. he has a habit of building fidget spinners. he wants chaos. he will antagonise cleo. he has the energy of a small yappy dog whilst also being determined to help his friends and have fun

joe hills: poet. the guy who conquered death. it's fine. joe's channel is like watching a comedy of endless disasters. next problem. he's building block for block replicas of buildings. he's the original new guy. he's in charge of Hermits Helping Hermits. he'll label nether hubs and give out boats. he'll fight a war with poetry and prank with de-escalation. howdy y'all. keep adventuring

keralis: he's got those big eyes. he's building things too realistic to be in minecraft. he'll pull out his miette voice and make the joke about the German coast guard. need money? papa k's got you. want money? no he's got no diamonds. he's broke. so sorry. he wants to win everything. xb always beats him. he refuses to call anyone by their screen names. shashwammy and bubbles and brian and princess and bumbo

mumbo: it's quite simple, really. he wants to build redstone doors and industrial districts but people keep dragging him into trouble. he's got grian and iskall to drag him into mischief. he loves massive storage systems and control panels. he keeps ending up in charge of things. he will not come to meetings. nothing makes him happier than looking at redstone circuitry on coloured lines

pearl: running on not enough sleep, always. here to cause trouble. she'll turn things upside down. she's a master landscaper. she'll build something massive like it's nothing. she'll commit to the bit. what if the base was bigger? what if she turned it around? she likes doing interiors. she'll build a mountain for fun. unhinged

rendog: head of the drama club. he loves cinematic effects. he loves lore and using his brother's music. he's got a whole dressing up box of characters to play. he can sniff out a story happening and will dive over to throw himself into it. he'll build wonders off camera and pretend it was someone else. he's in charge of the log business, always

scar: landscaper. trouble maker. he doesn't know how to do things in moderation. every build has a story. his cat is in the game. he builds beautiful things and flies into them. he doesn't light things up. he dies again and again and again and again. he loves to put on the costumes and play a part. he's a conman. he'll buy your attic. he's ready to cause trouble. he's shooting people with his bow

stress: she's a builder. she makes things gorgeous. her favourite colour is magenta and her favourite volume is loud. she's shouting at her villager geezers. she's laughing at iskall. she's afraid of the nether. everything she does has an edge of unhinged-ness. she's bright and loud and happy

tango: he's a technical player. i'd call him a minigame maker, but they're bigger than minigames at this point. the tangler, boom box, decked out, among us. he looks at minecraft's mechanics and makes them fun. he launches anvils and builds piglin ferris wheels. he's in charge of iron farms. the rule is that they have to be funny. he wants to help his friends. he wants to make them laugh

tfc: he's deep in the mines. he's the server's hermit. he has a rumbling laugh. he's left in shock by the overworld when he rises. he plays slow. he indulges the others. he died laughing at cleo's ingenuity during demise when he could have easily saved himself. the hermits sent him a new computer. he's got prox mod now

beef: he likes to make maps!! he's very cheerful. nobody bought eternal sunshine. he's a NHO member: etho, beef, bdoubleo, doc. he's a determined builder. he'll make a story. he'll run from the mobs spawning in the city he's left dark for the aesthetic. he sells wool. he collects records

wels: he's a builder. he's a knight. he bites off more than he can chew. he takes his time and builds beautiful things. you think he's in hiding, he's just biding his time. he'll build medieval houses and rant about tennessee's driving conditions. he's cheerful and kind

xb: he's building shapes again. he's beating keralis at minigames. he's kind and helpful. there's gore in his bunker. he's moved so far away he's living on a whole other server. the world is ending but he's built a post-apocalypse anyway

xisuma: he has opinions. he's the admin. he's a little strange. he wants to design his own farms and buildings. he wants to have fun. cleo is going to bully him so bad at HHH. evil x turns up sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. he wants to unravel the game and make new things and learn things. he watches over the others with fond confusion. cleo hasn't forgiven him for the fish

zedaph: mad scientist. he looked at minecraft and then decided to do his own thing. minecraft is the tool for his madness. he wants to fling objects. he wants to build gunk tanks. he wants to stare into the eyes of sheep. he'll build redstone machines that are effectively ineffective. he'll build a working clock. he'll study his friends like bugs. he'll build a golf course if the mechanics demand it

cleo: queen of puppets. the armour stand book is hers. she demands heads. she'll break joe's legs. her dioramas are in high demand. betray her and she'll burn the world down. she's soft really. she's always helping. she wants to build gore and monsters and laugh. joe is living in her base again. she'll kill him (she joined the server hiding behind him)

#hermitcraft #good to reblog #i miss biffa #this post ended up so long

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theminecraftbee · 2 years

Text

I like thinking about various ways hybrid biology could be weird and make people’s lives weird in any version of a thing where people are hybrids, incidentally. not in an “hybrid instincts” way (although that is VERY FUN) but just in a… biological reality kinda way. stuff like…

i think creepers would be very good at hearing hissing sounds but low, loud sounds like explosions they basically don’t pick up on outside of the vibrations unless they’re very loud, because their ears are designed to be protected from them. amongst other creepers or in the wild that would be fine but it also means doc has trouble sometimes on hermitcraft because his hearing isn’t great

grian, being some kind of bird, can actually see way more colors than the humans around him. this can make it mildly frustrating when he does builds though because he like, will notice differences between blocks that are invisible to other people.

ren can hear stupid high pitched noises EVERYWHERE and he hates it. stupid dog ears.

i know gameplay-wise this doesn’t make sense but cleo’s a zombie she’s DEFINITELY an obligate carnivore, for some definition of that word. so is jevin but like, in a different way. they both have a lot of annoying dietary restrictions because of this, as cleo can’t really digest non-meat super well, and jevin just gets nothing out of it, but also has to avoid certain foods due to the way slimes absorb everything they eat basically into their whole selves.

meanwhile gem is an herbivore who can’t eat too much meat without getting sick—although, like a deer, she’ll scavenge anything she gets. she also has the opposite of the problem grian has—she sees fewer colors than everyone else. orange especially is a problem.

pearl can get really grumpy during long projects due to the fact her circadian rhythm is nocturnal, and while she does her best to make herself diurnal with everyone else, if she’s not getting a whole lot of sleep… well…

you know. stuff like that! just… weird hybrid stuff is very fun I like thinking about it, and also the various ways a server like hermitcraft might make accommodations for stuff like this. (like, servermates help with color stuff, rules about where and when certain noises can be, definitely a lot of care about food… stuff like that.)

#hermitcraft #I’m not tagging everyone I mentioned in this #anyway these are all obviously based on my headcanons though the animal ones ARE real facts #and feel free to share your own #they are Simply Thoughts

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mercury-crux · 1 year

Text

Limited Life Incorrect Quotes

Pearl: I know this isn’t going to end well and I don’t care. So don’t you try and stop me, Martyn! Martyn: I wasn’t stopping you. I was asking if you had a spare camera so I can record this.

Cleo: Why aren’t you sleeping? Scar: I’m too busy plotting your murder to sleep, Cleo. Cleo: Scar: …The nightmares. Cleo: wrapping their arms around Scar Awwww, sweetie-

Grian: Thought I was meowing back at my cat for the past hour, but it was just me and Martyn meowing at each other from different rooms in the house.

Martyn: Life could be worse, BigB. BigB: Life could be a lot better too!

Bdubs: Hey, Cleo! Did you know your my BFFLWYLION? Cleo: What the hell is that supposed to mean? Bdubs: Best Friend For Life Whether You Like It Or Not. Cleo: Cleo: That’s one way to say it, I guess…

Impulse: Hey, Scott? Can I get some dating advice? Scott: Just because I'm with Martyn doesn't mean I know how I did it.

Scott: Hey, can you do me a favor? Martyn: Sorry, I have to go do literally anything other than this. Scott: You don’t even have a legitimate reason? Martyn: Oh, no, I do. Scott: Well, what is it? Martyn: You see, I simply don’t give a fuck.

Martyn: Question, how difficult would it be to bowl in a bee suit? BigB: Not that hard, I don't think, as long as you can move. Scar: I'd assume as hard as it is to bowl in a maid outfit. Scar: Wouldn't be any harder, but you'd get some WEIRD looks. Grian: Are. Are you speaking from experience. Scar: No! Scar: Scar: ….Maybe.

BigB: Did you ever have like a pet run away and find it or anything? Jimmy: I had a lizard that I burnt.

BigB, digging their grave: Long story short, this is my grave…….Want me to make you one too?

Skizz: I’d like to live through a week that’s not a whole new verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Grian: Did you take out Martyn as I requested? Joel: Martyn has been taken out, yes. Grian: You have my grat- Joel: It was a great restaurant. Joel: We had a romantic candlelit dinner. Joel: Martyn proposed afterwards- we’re filing the wedding papers.

Joel: I’m quick at math. Jimmy: Ok, what’s 38 times 76? Joel: 24. Jimmy: That wasn’t even close. Joel: But it was quick.

Bdubs: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’ Grian: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

Cleo: Are you laughing at that video of Pearl and Jimmy fighting? Etho: No. Etho: I'm laughing at the comments.

Scar: I have a bad feeling about this… Grian: What do you mean? Scar: Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble? Grian: No? Jimmy: That actually explains so much.

Joel: Hey, are you okay? Pearl: Yeah. Joel: You don't look okay… Pearl: Then stop looking.

Martyn: Ah shit, I forgot. Joel: Forgot what? Martyn: How do you expect me to answer that?

Pearl: I can be your partner for the next race. Cleo: Sorry, Pearl. It's a sibling race. Bdubs: Maybe there's a contest for lonely children after this. Cleo: It's only children, Bdubs. A lonely child is what you're gonna be when I sell you!

Cleo: I hate to tell you this, but one of you was adopted. Bdubs & Scar: Bdubs: Only one…?

BigB, at Cleo’s funeral: I need a moment with them. Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. leaves BigB, leaning over Cleo’s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Cleo, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

Bdubs: Why don't humans have a specific noise that means "there are bees here, let's leave immediately." Why are elephants more advanced than us. Etho: We do have a specific noise for it. It sounds like this: Etho: "There are bees here, let's leave immediately."

Joel and Grian's house is on fire, but they don't know it Joel: Damn, it's hot in here. Grian: I know, it's so hot there's smoke coming out of the vent! Joel: Joel: First of all, I'm assuming you have no idea what the problem with that statement is. Grian: What? Joel: Second of all, we need to get the fuck out of here, NOW.

Cleo: You can’t have a gun on stage! Tango: WRONG AGAIN! I can have a gun, and I must have a gun, that’s the rule of Chekhov’s Gun: have a gun. And now that it’s been seen, I will have to shoot someone before the end of the play.

BigB: Hey, do you know the password to Cleo’s computer? Pearl: Fuck you, BigB. BigB: Hey!! Pearl: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouBigB". BigB: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Bdubs: Wow, this parking is as straight as I am. Impulse: I know I should be focused on the fact that you just came out, but HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY PARKING!

Cleo: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Scar: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

Bdubs: You’re giving me a sticker? Cleo: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Bdubs: I’m not a preschooler. Cleo: Fine, I’ll take it back- Bdubs: I earned this, back off!

Scott: Do you want to play 20 Questions? Etho: Sure! Etho: Whats your favorite color? Scott, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

Tango: Would you rather kill Pearl, or— Scott: Yes, kill them. Tango: I didn’t say the other thing— Scott: I don’t need to hear it. Pearl: …I’m feeling a little unsafe.

Cleo: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

Etho: Did you buy eggs like I asked? Skizz: Even better! Etho: What the fuck did you- Skizz: holding up a chicken Her name is Fluffy.

Pearl: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset? Jimmy: No, I said "Pearl, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

Impulse: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait. Skizz: You and me! Impulse: tearing up Ok.

Cleo: Please could you go to the shop and get a carton of milk, if they have avacodos get six. Scar, coming back from the store with six cartons of milk: They had avacados!

BigB: I’m telling you, my team is competent. Jimmy, rushing in: BigB! Pearl tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

Scott: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case? Martyn: wHat? Scott: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved. Martyn: Can we go back to the part when you said "when I get murdered"?

Tango: The only thing I'm guilty of is being adorable… …and also assault with a deadly weapon.

Tango: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Scar: Um…Neat. later Scar, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," BigB. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. BigB, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Scar. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Grian confessed their love for me? Scar: Didn't you thank them? BigB: closes the book and looks at the ceiling I fucking thanked them.

Grian: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses. BigB: This knife is actually a magic wand. Bdubs: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel. Cleo: cocks gun Magic missile. Skizz: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

Pearl: I swear to god I'm the only one here with a braincell. Tango, Scott, Grian, and Etho: ALL HAIL the keeper of the sacred braincell!

Joel: Cleo doesn’t look very happy. Grian: That's their happy. They're just a bitch.

BigB: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them? Pearl: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them. BigB: Okay yeah thanks Pearl, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?

Joel: I’m here for the cult stuff. BigB: How did you find us? Joel: I saw your ad on craigslist.

Tango: All right, y'all! Let's take a vote! Grian: A secret vote. Everyone close your eyes. the Squad closes their eyes Skizz: We don't see the result! Grian: Well, just say your vote out loud. Jimmy: Won't we recognize each other's voices? Joel: Tango has a point.

Pearl: Did you miss me while I was gone? Scott: You were gone?

Skizz: That was so hot, Tango. Tango: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. Skizz: I'm so in love with you.

Joel: Do you guys want to see a butterfly? Etho: Ooh, yes please! Pearl, with their laptop open: I'm not going to stop working to look at a stupid bug! Joel: It's not a bug though… Pearl: … Etho: … Pearl: Well I still don't want to see. Etho, realizing: Please don't throw- Joel: Whee! throws a stick of butter

Joel: chokes on something Jimmy: Jeez, Joel, don't die on us. Joel: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want!

Grian: The waiter at Olive Garden has been grating my cheese for 6 hours now, waiting for me to say when. Customers are screaming. Three people have died. Grian: I will not yield.

Pearl: We’re about to do the taser challenge. You want in? Tango: What's the taser challenge? BigB: We tase eachother, then drink. Tango: How do you win? Pearl: What are you, a lawyer? You want in or not?

Tango: Is this mistletoe? Etho: Uh, no, no, that is basil. Tango: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you. Etho: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Tango: What do you call a dictionary on drugs? BigB: If you say "addict-ionary" I swear I will cut you. Tango: I was actually going to say "high definition", but your answer's much better. BigB: …

Bdubs and Cleo are planning to break in somewhere Bdubs: We need to distract the guards. Cleo: Right. Bdubs: What are we gonna do? Cleo: I'm gonna break their elbows while you poke their eyes. Bdubs: Cleo: Bdubs: Deal.

BigB: Scar has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them. Etho: That can't be true! BigB: Watch this. BigB: Hey Scar, race you to the bottom of the stairs! Scar: Throws themself out a window

Pearl: Jimmy is off at an appointment, so while they’re gone, I’m going to cut the sleeves off all of my shirts. BigB: Why? Pearl: They’re like 90 of my impulse control.

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aliteral-ghost · 4 months

Text

This is the gift I made for @calilk for the @mcytblrholidayexchange! I hope you enjoy it!

I was asked for some identity reveal shenanigans and I hope I was able to convey it well! It's Joe and Cleo-centric with a little hurt and a lot more comfort! You can read the whole thing here or on ao3 here.

Beta'd by the amazing @iwillstealyourjawbone!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cleo knows Joe for a whole decade before they even begin to think about whether or not he’s actually human. No one on the Hermitcraft server really is, as far as she knows, but Joe is mostly unassuming and Cleo hasn’t known a human in so many years that she just figures that they all have their quirks. Until one day, when they’re prepping for HHH, and Cleo realizes a trait that Joe Hills has that no one in her many years of existence has had.

“Joe?” Cleo asks. “Why can't I see your eyes?” Joe blinks, or at least they assume he blinks, from behind the glasses that are perpetually covering his eyes.

“Well, sorry, I didn't realize it was a problem! I can fix that right away.” Eyes appear as a sort of halo around his head, all staring at Cleo. She flinches suddenly at the amount of them watching her.

“No, no, that's fine, Joe. I really don't need to make eye contact…” The eyes disappear as quickly as they arrive, flickering out with a snap of static and sudden rush of air pressure. Cleo's ears pop, or at least they try to, one of the eardrums slightly too rotten to be able to flex that much. They manage to get it to go back to normal with a little fiddling, then smile at Joe again. “Well, shall we? There are hermits to be helped.”

Or harmed, or hindered, or hugged, or any other verb that starts with ‘h’ that Cleo can think of. It varies wildly through the weeks depending on who needs help, but Joe always knows what they're going to be doing. Even when there isn't really going to be a plan, Joe always knows.

Cleo doesn't really care, though. That's just Joe Hills, in his infinite quirks. They're friends for a reason, of course.

After the helping (holding Tango at swordpoint until he lets them place snow), Joe and Cleo find themselves sitting at the top of Cleo’s castle, watching the sun go down. Predictably, the rest of the hermits were about as flaky as pumpkin pie crust, and it was a monumental task for just the two of them. Tango was grateful at the end of it all, of course, which always feels good, but Cleo’s fingers are practically falling off from the cold, wet snow, and Joe seems like he’s on the verge of falling asleep.

Neither of them are talking, Cleo making mental notes of all of the things she still has to finish in her base, all the armor stands she wants to fill the rooms with, and Joe staring into the sun. Or, at least, Cleo thinks he is. She can’t see his eyes. His glasses always seem to be reflecting just right.

It’s not like that’s the strangest thing about Joe, either. Occasionally they will find him just slightly too transparent, or working on something while floating at a strange angle, but that’s always been chalked up to the Joe Hills difference. She’s never thought that it might be because Joe isn’t human.

“I’ve been thinking about your question,” Joe says eventually. It takes Cleo by surprise, not because he’s been thinking about a question she posed, but because he sounds melancholy about that thinking.

“Which one?” Cleo asks. In theory, they know. They both know what question he’s been thinking about, but neither of them really know how to go about saying it.

“About my eyes,” Joe hiccups, a little sort of half-laugh, half-sob, clearly exhausted. “Do you know what I am, Cleo?”

That gives Cleo pause. Sure, she has theories, but the rule of thumb on the Hermitcraft server is always to keep theories to yourself. Never assume. “You're human?” She doesn't mean it to sound like a question.

“I'm a monster,” Joe sighs, nearly deflating. “My kind has done so much harm to the players… I've done so much….”

“If you're a monster,” Cleo says, not sure what they're talking about but just wanting to make things better, “What does that make me? My kind is constantly trying to kill us.”

As if on cue, a zombie groans from somewhere outside, and shuffles closer, as if sensing them through the walls.

“That's different,” Joe says. “You're cognizant. You're you. If you saw my true form… I wouldn't be allowed around here anymore.”

“I may not know ‘your true form,’ or whatever,” Cleo retorts, a little indignant, “But I know you. You're Joe Hills, from Nashville, Tennessee, you like helping people in that strange way you do, and you would never want to hurt any of us.”

Joe curls up like they’ve done hundreds of times before, head on Cleo’s thigh, shoulder pressed firmly to their side. It’s habit, at this point, more than anything, and he eases into a fitful sleep before long. Cleo doesn’t follow suit, counting his breaths and trying to ignore how Joe’s form shifts and morphs in his sleep. It wouldn't be polite to stare.

She doesn’t look up, but if they did they would see a massive halo of eyes, shimmering in every color of the rainbow. They’re not watching Joe and Cleo, instead staring off into the distance, watching every move of the other beings on the server, protecting them.

The next time someone asks about Joe–Gem catches Cleo after one of their Secret Life sessions, eyes wide with curiosity–they just smile. “That’s just how Joe is,” Cleo says. “That’s how he’s always been. Not much more about it.”

“But–” Gem starts, still full of questions.

“It’s the Joe Hills difference,” Cleo insists. “It’s really better if you don’t think too hard about it, anyways. You'll just end up with a headache.” She doesn’t say any more than that, even when Gem keeps pestering her. It’s not their business to share, and if Joe ever feels like telling the other Hermits, he will. They won’t pressure him, they know that, everyone is far too polite to even think about it.

“Okay,” Gem says, sounding like she’s mulling it over. “The Joe Hills difference.” She doesn’t ask any more questions, and Cleo goes about her day, happy that she'd been trusted to protect their friend’s privacy.

#hermitcraft #joe hills #zombiecleo #really fun to do this I don't normally write joe hills as eldritch

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