since I saw your post of frank going butterfly hunting with their skirt, it got me wondering..what if eddie too had a skirt!
I imagine frank got him into the whole flowy dress ordeal. probably wears one when going through his mail shift or while working on the garden with frank.
oh my gosh...matching skirts!
considering that apparently Eddie has done drag, i imagine that its probably the other way around!!
i gotta a little lost in the sauce w/ these and forgot what the rest of the ask said besides "FranklyDear in skirts" oopsies <3
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The solar flare meant Mechi was doing boring stuff like mining, so every time the cooldown for The Monolith or Ms Clarabelle (our sightstealer) was up, he sprinted to do that instead. I don't think he likes manual labour lmao
Some wild people came onto the map, which Mechi was not thrilled about because one of them was a taukai xenotype (cancer people, I think), and he thought they were hella ugly. A bit rude, but Mechi hates everybody anyway, so it's understandable.
The grass is quite literally greener on this side of the fence, boomalope (the boomalope is now named Butter, and he is a very good boomalope)
More silver is always nice, and foggy rain isn't so bad.
We did not offer help to either of The Accurates.
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green
Will’s eyes always turned a bit greener during sunsets. Although, green wasn’t the correct word to describe them. Beautiful, sparkling, infinite; those were words that could paint a picture of Will’s eyes, but none of them could depict their colour as the sun sank below the skies.
Mike imagined the sunlight of an afternoon seeping through the branches and leaves of a tree in full bloom. He thought of the halos around the green and the oranges from the clouds, the mix of shades and lights all reflected in Will’s eyes, and yet again came empty for a word to describe it all.
He was in the process of pondering over the limitations of the English language and how unfair all of it was, when Will turned away from the sunlight bathing his face and found Mike looking. A nervous smile pulled from his lips and a new shade spread over his cheeks. It was as lovely and as lacking of a name as his eyes were.
“What?” he asked.
Mike kept looking at Will and shook his head. There was so much he could fit in that question alone. He could talk about how ‘green’ was a stupid and plain word, about sunsets and trees and leaves, about heartbeats and old promises made in a basement.
Everything, he wanted to say. But just as ‘green’, the word felt too big and yet too hollow and plain.
“Nothing,” he said instead and smiled back. “Just looking.”
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saphira for the sketch requests? .w.
Get you a girl who c solo an enormous Steelix and proceed to ride it afterwards, then casually punch through a wall, give you a ring and leave
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