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#noelle rambles
i-wanna-be-eragons-gf · 5 months
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I was made aware that allegedly, Brom (Eragons father, you know the guy) and Arya are the same age.
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au where Steve takes in Max after something happens w/ her mom:
Steve: So uh, I know it’s not a great change, and insignificant, really, but if you want, I will help you with changing your last name?
Max: Why would I? I’d just have to change it again in a few years.
Steve: oh... Oh! You mean to Sinclair? I didn’t know you guys were getting that seri—
Max: Fuck no! To Munson!
Steve:
Max: You know, once you and Eddie get your shit together and realize your head over fuckin heels for each other? And get married?
Steve:
Steve: Watch your language, young lady.
Max: You didn’t deny i—
Steve: Shut up.
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shewhobreathesfire · 3 months
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Someone commissioned me for the first time! Here's Hestia looking over Doru Araeba for Will of the Lore
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unclewaynemunson · 8 months
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Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)
Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.
Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.
Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.
Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.
Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.
But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.
Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.
He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.
“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”
“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.
“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”
And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.
So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.
More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?
Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.
He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.
They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.
While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.
“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.
“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.
Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.
“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”
“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.
“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”
“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”
Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.
“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”
“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”
“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”
“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”
Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.
“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”
He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.
“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”
Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.
“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.
And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?
His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.
“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”
Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”
“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.
“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”
Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...
Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.
He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.
“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.
And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.
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imsosocold · 9 months
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susielesbianism · 15 days
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I love it when girls are in love!!!!
(Reblog, don’t repost)
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noelle-holi-gay · 7 months
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So toby revealed this cut chapter 3 track in the newsletter, from a stealth section that didn't make it into the final version, and it's fucking. A noir-esque Lost Girl remix. Which, aside from the fact that it's amazing, is throwing me for a loop because like, Noelle isn't even in this chapter, probably??? And every other time this theme has appeared its been DECIDEDLY noelle-or-dess related. i mean im probably reading into it and toby probably just thought it worked well for a funny stealth remix, but I can't help but be like 'stealth like HIDDEN like HIDING like FIND HER--' about it because im brained poisoned.
anyway happy 8th anniversary wahoo
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teammateswap-au · 5 months
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Sundancer is such a heartbreaking character. She's a genuinely nice person working to improve her life and escape her controlling mother and then she's plunged into hell with her friends and is forced to watch as her best friend is changed into a crude mockery of her former self. And then she's finally got a way out, the terrifying bug girl and her team secured her a way home, and her realization when given the opportunity to go home fucking wrecks me honestly.
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She's just so fundamentally changed by her time on Bet, and she knows this. She'll never be the Marissa she was again because now she has blood on her hands, and before she goes home she needs to kill one last person. So she burns her best friend, her lifeline, maybe even her crush, even as Echidna begs and screams and promises wrath upon the world and calls her by the nickname Noelle always did. She takes a life on purpose this time, because even leaving Earth Bet demands she falls a bit more and compromises her morals one final time.
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This is the part of the scene that really fucks with me though. She's fucking tearing into her costume, removing every part of the cape persona she hates so much and throwing it to the ground to melt, because she so desperately wants to detach herself from Earth Bet and cape society and her powers that aren't good for anything except destruction and hurting others. But it's not enough. She can remove every single part of her costume, try to pretend her time on Bet never happened, never use her power again, but she'll never actually be able to escape. This passage brings attention to the subtler part of her power, the self-protection that makes everything in about a 6 foot radius around herself a normal temperature (probably room temperature). The pavement cools and hardens in her wake, because even if she's not using her power she's stuck with it and it'll always have that normal temperature field active. Every single time she tries to take a bath and the water cools to be lukewarm instantly, or she goes out in the winter time and someone asks why it's warm around her, or her ice cream melts, or her meal is the same temperature as everything she'll eat for the rest of her life, she'll be reminded of her powers and what she did. The cold will never bite at her skin, she'll never feel the warmth of someone else's touch, she'll just find so many little things in her life from then on refusing to let her pretend she's normal and fine and that she didn't kill her best friend and that she's over Earth Bet. Her powers will never go away, and they'll never let her forget that even if she vows to never use her sun. I love Mars, she's forced to do horrible things for reasons entirely out of her control, and she'll never escape that. Whether she wants to be or not, she's a cape now and forever.
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bonetrousledbones · 1 month
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here are my valentines cards from the newsletter if anybody's putting together a compilation :> i'm assuming everybody's gotten one from toriel, but the message itself varies!
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lancerious · 17 days
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thank you for being #1 lancer fan the world needs more lancer fans
Ho ho ho, of course!! Lancer is CRIMINALLY underrated I tell you, kid deserves WAY more attention than he currently gets
Glad to see another Lancer fan pop in <3!
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i-wanna-be-eragons-gf · 6 months
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I've been thinking of Shruikan lately, how it all could have been different, how he deserved to be happy. It wasn't his fault. It was never his fault.
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I NEED MORE DREAMLIGHT!!!
I WANT TO MOVE MY HOUSE TO THE SPOOKY AREA!!
I WANT PUMPKINS!!!
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shewhobreathesfire · 4 months
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I have been borth
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linktoo · 2 years
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oh oh i m hyperventilating. KRIS . KRIS DID THIS. KRIS WHO IS KNOWN FOR PLAYING PIANO BEAUTIFULLY. KRIS WHO REFUSES TO PLAY PIANO IN FRONT OF YOU. KRIS WHO HAS A SOUR EXPRESSION WHEN YOU LOOK AT THE PIANO. im gonna vomit KRIS
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imsosocold · 10 months
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Belos looks so genuine.
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I really wish there was more dialogue like this.
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He takes time to process what she said, we get to see the hurt sink in.
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Look at that form.
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