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#while listening to anime campaign
sketchz · 6 months
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The greatest villain of all time!!!!
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celestedotpng · 3 months
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i forgot i made this uhhh this is something cryptic relating to the bbeg of the calamity campaign (mmm yummy cryptic villainy
@ratxklng reminded me by posting their version u should go stare at it for 8 hours like i did
this was like my first big pixel art piece and i was working on a remake that i may or may not finish and/or animate
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paulnewmanlover · 1 year
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zooophagous · 1 year
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So why do you hate the advertising industry?
Hokay so.
Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.
I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.
I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.
Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.
Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.
Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.
I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.
And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.
Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.
Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.
And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.
Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.
It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.
It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.
And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.
Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.
Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.
However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.
I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.
Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.
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art · 21 days
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Meet the Artist: @erindrawsstuff
Hi, I’m Erin, and I draw stuff! I’m an illustrator and 2D animator based in Austin, Texas (yee-haw). I’ve been in and out of the animation/entertainment industry for about 3 years, working many different roles like character designer for Rooster Teeth, animator for The Daytripper (a Texas-based PBS special), and character and prop designer for Lowbrow Studios (Adam Ruins Everything, etc.). Most of my work is now in personal projects like my webcomic “SUBSIX” (I promise I’m coming back to it!) and working with friends and colleagues within indie spaces, all while working my day job and returning to school for a degree in 3D animation! Most of my inspiration can likely be traced back to my cringe anime roots and the more obscure 2D animated movies from Disney while looking to new inspirations like Into the Spider-verse and Delicious in Dungeon. I think my main goal has been to create compelling stories with enticing characters while trying to navigate the complexities of life and the people in it (both in the media I create and irl). In the meantime, I explore this through reading works like The Locked Tomb, listening to Philosophy Tube, playing disaster lesbians in our DnD campaign of nearly 4 years, playing video games that make me cry and question things, and challenging myself to grow and improve in all aspects. I hope someday I’m able to return to being a full-time artist, but for now, I’m rediscovering why I create and how to maintain a reasonable work/life balance. I’m truly grateful that people enjoy my work, regardless of how big or small my following is or becomes in the future. I hope one day I’m able to be an inspiration to someone as many have for me! Thank you for this opportunity to introduce myself!
Nice to meet you, Erin! Below are some pieces they have shared with you all.
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Check out more of Erin's work over at their Tumblr, @erindrawsstuff!
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steveseddie · 8 days
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go for it
steddie | rating: t | cw: none | wc: 4,6k | tags: eddie and steve have a crush, they finally do something about it, the hellfire club is there whoops, first kiss, getting together
for my stficbingo: “This is a dictatorship and I’m in charge!”
click here to read on ao3
***
“You drag yourselves out of the tunnels and find what seems to be a friendly tavern in the woods,” Eddie narrates in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over everyone sitting at the Harrington dining table. They’re all at the edge of their seats, collectively holding their breath, looking suitably daunted yet excited as they brace themselves for some other twist in the story. “The innkeeper welcomes you with warm food and offers you a place to stay. She assures you that you’re safe.” 
He pauses for dramatic effect. Watches as Henderson bites his knuckles, Wheeler squeezes his eyes shut, Jeff covers his face with his hands-
“Tonight you get to rest,” he finishes with a flourish of his hand and the party sighs in relief. 
“Thank God!” Gareth says, slumping back on his chair and wiping his brow where beads of sweat started gathering during the final moments of the campaign. “I thought we wouldn’t make it.” 
“Holy shit, me too,” Sinclair agrees, shaking his head in disbelief. He’d been one bad die roll away from dying by the time they finally defeated the goblins that attacked them out of nowhere. “That was brutal!” 
“It was fucking awesome!” Henderson says with a squeaky laugh and everyone around the table heartily agrees.  
Eddie grins widely, resting his chin on one hand and doing a flourish with the other one in lieu of a bow. “Glad it pleased you, Master Nog.” 
The kid flashes him a toothy smile and then he and the rest of the party start discussing tonight’s campaign- the best moments, the ones where they thought they would all die, their predictions for what will happen next week. 
They’re so caught up in their conversation that they don’t notice when Eddie slips away from the table.
The Harrington house is easy to get lost in, bigger than any house Eddie has ever been to. Even after weeks of being friends with Steve and coming over for movie nights and pool parties, Eddie isn’t sure he’s seen all of it. He knows there’s a third garage somewhere and he’s only been to one of the three guest bedrooms and that was back on the first night he slept over. 
(Since then, he and Steve realized that they sleep better when they have company and Eddie never saw the inside of that or any of the other guest rooms again, sharing Steve’s bed with him whenever he spends the night instead.)
Eddie has been to Harrington kitchen plenty of times though, so he makes his way there easily. 
As he gets further away from his friends and their noise, Eddie’s ears pick up on the music coming from the Harrington kitchen, which further guides him in the right direction. He belatedly recognizes the song as part of the mixtape he made for Steve a couple of days ago in an attempt to improve his music taste. When he gave it to him, Steve eyed it warily (“It’s real music, Stevie, not a rabid animal, it won’t bite you!”) before shoving it into his car’s glove compartment. He didn’t bring it up since then and Eddie assumed he forgot about it. Knowing that Steve didn’t forget and he’s actually listening to it now fills Eddie’s stomach with butterflies. 
Those butterflies flutter pathetically when he finally reaches the kitchen and finds Steve doing the dishes. 
He’s standing in front of the sink, his hips moving with the music (not heavy metal but some soft rock that Eddie thought might be more Steve’s style while still being cool) and there’s a flowery apron tied around his waist which matches the rubber gloves he’s wearing. Both were a gag gift from the kids, Steve told Eddie the first time he saw him wearing them, one that actually turned out to be quite useful and now he wears them often. 
For a moment, Eddie lingers at the kitchen doorway, giving himself a few seconds to stare at Steve, filing away how he looks for later when he’s daydreaming embarrassingly domestic fantasies of a life with Steve. Then he raps his knuckles twice on the door frame to get his attention. 
(Eddie knows better than to sneak up on him now. The one time he did Steve had him pinned against a wall before Eddie could even realize what was happening. He thought it was hot more than anything, but Steve had been mortified. He spent the rest of the night apologizing and acting like a kicked puppy around him. He didn’t relax until Eddie reminded him that the first time they met, Eddie did the same thing, only he also held a broken bottle to Steve’s throat. So now they were more than even.)
Steve’s head whips around at the sound and his face lights up when he sees Eddie leaning against the door frame. 
“Hey!” Steve says, grinning like he’s delighted to see Eddie. Like he missed him, like he didn’t see him less than forty minutes ago when they all took a break to have dinner. “You finished early tonight.” 
Glancing at the clock on top of the fridge, Eddie realizes that Steve is right. “I figured they had enough for one night,” Eddie says, stepping into the kitchen and joining Steve by the sink. “Usually the brats would throw a fit, but I think they were actually glad this time.”  
“That bad?” Steve asks with a snort.
“Wheeler rolled four nat ones in a row, Steve, four!” Eddie says, dancing in and out of Steve’s space until Steve hip-checks him out of the way with a chuckle. 
“Four, huh?” 
“Mhm, the odds weren’t in their favor tonight.” 
“Well, it was nice of you to let them off the hook for once, Mr. Dungeon Master,” Steve says, crinkly eyes meeting Eddie’s momentarily before looking down at the sink and picking up another plate. 
“I’m always nice, Stevie,” Eddie says, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.
Steve gives him a bitchy face. “Dude, I’m pretty sure I heard you threaten to chop off Dougie’s hand.” 
“That was the goblin, not me!” Eddie protests, wagging his finger in front of Steve’s face. “Who Jeff killed shortly after, so who’s the one that isn’t nice here?” 
“Right,” Steve deadpans. He takes off the rubber gloves after rinsing the last plate and picks up a dish towel to start drying. “You can always get your revenge next week I guess.” 
“Oh I will, Stevie. I will,” he says, grinning manically. Oh the things he has planned. Eddie hops on top of the counter, right next to where Steve stands as he dries plates and glasses and everything else he used to make the most delicious lasagna for the party. His feet dangle from the counter and he lightly nudges Steve with one. “Hey, thanks for letting us play here. And for dinner.”
“You know you don’t have to thank me every time, right Eds?” Steve says with an exaggerated sigh, but his annoyance is downplayed by his playful smile. The lopsided one that makes Eddie want to kiss him stupid. 
After Spring Break, Principal Higgins was quick to shut down Hellfire once and for all, leaving the party with no place to hold their campaigns. Eddie wasn’t surprised but like everyone else, he was pretty fucking bummed about it. No one in their party had enough space at their house to host their campaigns, and the only two that did, Wheeler and Sinclair, failed to convince their parents to let them use their basement for their alleged satanic cult gatherings. 
But just when they thought their club was done for, Steve swooped in like the knight in shining armor that he is and offered up his house, which is why for the last couple of weeks they’ve been gathering at the Harrington residence where Steve not only hosts their campaigns and puts up with the noise and the mess they leave behind, but he also cooks or buys them dinner every week and makes sure to stock up his fridge with each of their favorite drinks, even indulging in Gareth’s weird obsession with Bubble Up soda because he is unreal and the nicest fucking guy Eddie knows. 
So Eddie can’t not thank him every time. Contrary to what people might believe, he has manners. He also likes the pretty pink flush that covers Steve’s cheeks whenever he does it.
“Hm, I think I do,” he says, nudging Steve’s leg again. “Hellfire would be over if it wasn’t for you, sweetheart.” 
“And what a tragedy that would be,” Steve jokes but aha! There it is- that pretty pink blush. 
“Hey! I know for a fact that you don’t hate it as much as you pretend to,” Eddie says, shaking his finger in a reproachful manner. “You sat through the whole session last time and didn’t even yawn once!” 
Last week, Dustin begged and pleaded so that Steve would sit and watch their campaign instead of retreating to the kitchen or his bedroom. Steve held his ground admirably until Eddie joined in on Dustin’s pleas, batting his eyelashes and pouting exaggeratedly until he caved, sighing in defeat and sitting down next to Eddie. He didn’t expect Steve to make it through the whole thing, but he did and while he did look a little confused at times and complained that there was way too much math involved, he also seemed to actually enjoy himself. 
Steve shifts from one foot to the other and bites his lip. “Yeah, I guess, but that’s because I was watching you the whole time,” he shyly says.
Eddie blinks. “Me?” He remembers Steve’s eyes on him while he led the campaign, but he didn’t think much of it then. But now Steve’s shy admission that he enjoyed himself because he was watching Eddie makes his heart stutter in his chest. 
Flushing deeper, Steve keeps his eyes on the glass that he’s drying, not meeting Eddie’s gaze as he says, “Yeah, you, uh. You’re very good at doing those voices and you know, drawing people into your stories. It’s, um, fascinating.” 
Fascinating. No one’s ever used that word to describe Eddie before. He can’t help the way his breath catches when Steve Harrington of all people calls him that. 
“Oh. Well, thanks,” he stammers out, feeling his own cheeks match Steve’s flush. “And here I thought you were going to say I’m just pretty to look at,” he adds with a slightly shaky laugh.
And that’s what he expects Steve to do- laugh it off. Instead, he finally meets Eddie’s eyes and says, “Well, that too.” 
Eddie’s jaw drops. Holy shit. 
Steve does laugh then but not because it was a joke. He laughs at Eddie’s reaction which consists of him gaping like a fish because Steve Harrington just called him fascinating and pretty. 
And it’s not that Steve hasn’t given him compliments before or hasn’t flirted with him before. He plays along most of the time- sometimes with a playful smirk and sometimes with that baffled puppy look that Eddie saw for the first time after calling him “big boy”.
The thing is he’s never flirted like this- shyly, without a hint of a joke. And it’s- 
Well, it’s a lot. 
But if Eddie learned anything after Spring Break is to roll with whatever the universe throws at him, which in this case isn’t an army of hell bats or an apocalypse, but Steve Harrington finally, maybe, possibly making a move. Something that Eddie has been waiting for after weeks of the two of them dancing around each other. 
He couldn’t see it at first, or rather he refused to, afraid to get his hopes up only for his heart to break when he turned out to be wrong. But there are things that not even his cynical eyes can ignore. The way Steve gravitates towards Eddie in any group setting or the way Eddie catches him staring when he thinks he isn’t looking like last week when they went swimming at the quarry and Eddie took off his shirt or like two weeks ago when Eddie tied his hair up to keep it off his face while he played his guitar. Or the way Steve’s eyes seem to dart to Eddie’s lips constantly when he talks and the way he can’t go more than a day without seeing him before he’s knocking on Eddie’s door to spend time with him.
It would be slightly easier to ignore all of this if it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie acts the same way when it comes to Steve. And Eddie is halfway in love with the guy, so. It makes him wonder. 
But despite all of this, Eddie still hasn’t made a move. Steve either. Until now maybe. 
Eddie clears his throat, finally finding his words. “Well, as entertaining as it must’ve been to watch me.” He grins. “You’ll have more fun if you actually play with us. Maybe next time I can finally convince you to join.”
Hazel eyes narrow at him. “If I play, will you threaten to cut off my hand too?”  
“Nah, I promise to go easy on you since it’s your first time.” He winks and Steve’s eyes widen, the blush from before making a wonderful return. 
“I- I haven’t said yes-”
“Yet.” 
Steve huffs. “What makes you so sure that you can convince me?” He asks with an arched eyebrow. “The kids have tried and failed and you know how relentless they are.”
“Yeah, but I can be very persuasive.” He gestures at himself with a hand flourish. “You know, as a cult leader and all.”
Steve hums. “Of course.” He leans his hip against the counter, only an inch away from Eddie’s thigh.
“There’s gotta be something I can do to convince you,” Eddie says, moving his thigh until it touches Steve’s hip. “Something I can give you in exchange. To make it worth your while.”
Steve’s eyes immediately dart down to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s stomach swoops. There it is.
“You’re right,” Steve says, and in one quick movement, he pushes himself away from the counter and moves to stand between Eddie’s legs. Holy fuck. “There’s one thing.”
Anticipation bubbles up in Eddie’s stomach. “Yeah? What- what is it?” He asks with a suddenly dry throat. 
Steve ducks his head, glancing at Eddie through his eyelashes. “A kiss from the Dungeon Master?” He asks in a shy whisper. 
Eddie stares at him for a second, lips parted in surprise because goddamn shitting fuck. Then-
“Not the goblin?” He asks in his stupid goblin voice. Like a fucking loser.
As soon as he blurts it out he slaps a hand against his face. “Fucking Christ, I can’t believe I just did that. That was so lame. I’m just fucking nervous, sorry.” 
Steve wraps his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, lowering his hand. His eyes are sparkling with fondness. “Don’t be, it’s cute,” he says with a soft chuckle. 
A nearly hysterical giggle bubbles up in Eddie’s throat but it abruptly cuts off when Steve places his hands on Eddie’s thigh and leans in. 
“Eddie.”
“Yeah?” 
“Are you gonna give me that kiss or what?” Steve asks oh so sweetly.
And Eddie doesn’t waste a moment after that, he finally goes for it. He cups Steve’s cheeks and tugs his face closer, pressing their mouths together, feeling his chest explode with warmth as he thinks finally and pinch me and holy fucking shit. 
The kiss is sweet and slow. It starts a little tentative, just lips slotting together, Steve’s bottom lip fitting perfectly between Eddie’s. But then something shifts- Steve’s hands settle on Eddie’s waist, his thumbs digging into his hip bones while Eddie’s fingers find their way to Steve’s hair, scratching at his scalp, tangling with the soft strands, tugging on them. The last one makes Steve’s mouth fall open in a gasp, just enough for Eddie to press in, catching Steve’s lower lip between his teeth and biting down hard enough to earn himself a small whine. Then he lets it go, easing his tongue across Steve’s lip and licking into his mouth. 
He loses track of anything else that happens when Steve’s own tongue licks into his mouth in return. 
After a while the kiss softens again, turning into something slow and tender until it comes to a natural stop, once they can’t ignore the need to breathe anymore. 
Steve pulls back but Eddie doesn’t let him go far, keeping a firm hold on the lapels of his dorky polo shirt. “Definitely worth my while but-” 
Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “But?” 
“But,” Steve says, his red, wet, well-kissed lips stretching into a wicked grin. “I think I’m gonna need more convincing.”
Eddie grins back. “Oh, I think that can be arranged.”
He tugs Steve closer again and he comes willingly, sighing happily when their lips slot together once more. God, Eddie is so fucked. They’ve kissed once and he’s already addicted to kissing Steve. He’s convinced that he could stay like this forever, lazily making out with him on his kitchen counter, tongues exploring, hands wandering.
And he probably would’ve- if a shrill voice didn’t make them jump apart. 
“What the hell is going on here!” Dustin yells.
Steve whirls around so fast he almost faceplants on his kitchen floor and Eddie jumps back and hits his head against one of the upper cupboards.
He lets out a string of creative curses as he rubs the back of his head, seeing black spots when he opens his eyes. Despite those, he can still see the whole party standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at them with expressions ranging from utter shock (Sinclair and Henderson) to disgust (Wheeler) to smugness (Jeff, Gareth, Dougie, and weirdly enough, Erica). 
“Uh,” Steve says dumbly as he tries to find his words, but there’s no lying their way out of this one and they both know it. They were just caught with their tongues down each other’s throats and Eddie’s hands on Steve’s ass. 
“Well?” Dustin prompts in a bitchy tone.
“I was, uh, convincing Steve to join D&D next week,” Eddie says, which is, technically, the truth. 
Gareth snorts, raising an eyebrow. “With your tongue?” 
Eddie gives a gleeful laugh. “As a matter of fact, yes.” 
“Eddie,” Steve hisses, flushing to the tips of his ears. 
“That’s gross!” Wheeler cries, his face scrunching up which is rich coming from him, Eddie thinks, considering he saw him sucking face with El more times than he would’ve liked in the short time she was in Hawkins after everything. So he knows Wheeler has nothing against kissing and it makes him wonder if he might have something against Eddie kissing a boy, or boys kissing boys in general and Eddie loves the kid, he loves all of them but he will sit him down for some tough love if he happens to not be okay with-
There’s a slapping sound as Erica smacks him upside the head.
“Ouch!”
“Not cool, butthead,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Wheeler. “Boys can kiss boys too.”
The corner of Eddie’s mouth tugs up in a smile. Just like that, she’s currently his favorite. 
“What?” Wheeler asks, rubbing the back of his head. “I know that. I don’t care that Eddie wants to kiss guys, I care that he wants to kiss Steve!”
“Hey!” Steve protests with an affronted frown.  
“Eddie is cool and Steve is so lame! And he’s my sister’s ex!” He says with extra snark. 
Eddie can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. Steve’s head snaps in his direction, his offended expression now directed at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he says between giggles. He clears his throat and gives Wheeler a stern face. It’s a much different scolding than the one he thought he would be giving him just a few moments ago and he’s grateful for that. “Steve isn’t lame. Yes, his music taste is shit and he owns more polo shirts than an 80-year-old-” 
“Dude, are you defending me or helping Mike insult me?” Steve mumbles with a pout. 
“But!” Eddie says, ignoring him. “He’s also badass and he’s saved your sorry asses multiple times and he’s nice enough to let you pipsqueaks eat his food and trash his house every week and he’s hot as fuck, so. Show some respect, Wheeler.”
Mike’s face scrunches up. “What does Steve being hot have to do with anything? Ew!”
But before Eddie can reply to that, Dustin takes a step forward, looking between the two. “So this is a thing now? Are you guys a thing?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at them.
Steve and Eddie exchange a look, both of them trying to communicate the same thing- do you want to be a thing? Steve gives him a sheepish smile and a nod, and in response, Eddie wraps his arms and legs around him, essentially hanging off of Steve’s back like a koala and trapping him against the counter. “Yes, Henderson. We are, as you so eloquently put it, a thing.”
Eddie expects more outrage, but Dustin nods solemnly. “Okay, cool. Just- no flirting at the D&D table. And no kissing!” There are nods and noises of agreement from the rest of the party. 
Eddie lets out an indignant squeak. “Excuse me, this is a dictatorship and I’m in charge! And the Dungeon Master decides that there will be kissing, butthead,” he announces, and then to prove a point, he smacks a sloppy kiss against Steve’s cheek. 
There’s a lot of groaning and whining and fake-gagging. 
“Dude, it’s like watching my parents kiss,” Sinclair says and Henderson nods, rubbing at his eyes like it physically hurt him to see Eddie kiss Steve. 
Eddie rolls his eyes- and they call him dramatic.
“Fine, fine, no kissing,” he says and sees Steve pout out of the corner of his eye. “But I won’t be deprived of the joy of flirting with one Sir Stephen.” 
Steve leans back against Eddie’s chest, twisting his neck to arch an eyebrow at him. “Sir Stephen?”  
“I’ve been working on your character sheet for weeks,” Eddie says with a grin. And it’s true, he had the feeling that he would be able to convince Steve to play and he wanted to be ready. If he’d known a kiss was all it took to do it, he would’ve done it much sooner. 
“That’s presumptuous of you,” Steve mumbles, but there’s a smile teasing at his lips. Eddie shrugs, nuzzling his face against Steve’s shoulder. 
“Fine!” Dustin groans, reminding Eddie that he and Steve aren’t alone. “As long as you stay in character.” 
Eddie grins wickedly, already looking forward to flirting with Steve through all his characters, even the goblin. 
“Anyway,” Jeff says, clapping his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “We were on our way out. We would offer to take the kiddos home, but Dougie’s piece of shit car won’t fit them all.” Dougie protests with a “Hey!” that they all ignore. 
Usually, Eddie doesn’t mind driving the kids around, but right now, a part of him does wish that he could stay a little longer with Steve. The other part can’t wait to get home so he can scream into a pillow. 
“Nah, I got it. Gentleman, lady, grab your things, we’ll head out in a second,” he says, making shooing motions with his hands. 
Sinclair rolls his eyes. “He just wants more time to make out with Steve,” he mutters as they all start to pile out of the kitchen. 
“Correct, Sinclair!”
He and Wheeler make gagging noises, earning a shove from Erica as she follows them. Yeah, she’s definitely his favorite. 
Henderson lingers on the doorway. 
“Any other rules you wish to impose on us, Master Nog?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. 
Dustin shakes his head, curls bouncing. “No, I’m just- I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
Eddie blinks. “Oh,” he exhales softly, touched by the kid’s words. 
“Thanks, Henderson,” Steve says, and he sounds touched too. 
“Yeah, thanks, kid.” 
“And I love you both, but if you get divorced, I will pick sides.” And with one final narrow-eyed look, he turns on his heels and leaves.
“Which side?” Eddie asks, but the little shit pretends he doesn’t hear him. “Henderson! Which side?” His shoulders slump. “Brat.”
“Too bad we’re never gonna find out,” Steve says, turning around to face Eddie without dislodging his arms or legs that are still wrapped around him.
Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest. “Never? That’s presumptuous of you,” he says, echoing his words from before. 
Steve shrugs. “I just know I don’t plan to break up with you- or divorce you like the kid said.” 
Oh yeah, Eddie definitely needs a pillow to scream into right about now. “Um, yeah, me neither, so I guess we’re stuck together.”
Steve nods with a dopey smile. “And we’ll never know who Dustin would’ve picked.” 
There’s a short silence. 
Then, “He would’ve picked me,” they both say at the same time. 
Steve squawks. “Me!”
“No, me!” 
“I’ve known him longer!”
“He thinks I’m cooler!” 
And so on until Eddie gets tired of arguing and shuts Steve up with a kiss. Before they can deepen it though, they’re once again interrupted by the kids. 
“Eddie!” Dustin yells. 
“Stop sucking face and let’s go!” Wheeler adds and Eddie can’t see him, but he knows his nose is scrunched up in disgust. 
“We’re gonna be late!” Sinclair adds, urgently, and Erica mhm’s in agreement. 
Eddie throws his head back with a groan. “Jesus H. Christ! They’re so annoying.” 
“They are,” Steve chuckles, brushing their noses together. “Hey, you wanna come over tomorrow? We can work on that character thing together. Just you and me.” 
Eddie’s eyes widen, lips parted in awe. Steve and D&D? There must be hearts in his eyes right now or bursting out of him like he’s a cartoon. “You’re offering to do nerdy shit with me? God, you’re a dream, Jesus Christ!” He says, hands coming up to cup either side of Steve’s face and peppering kisses all over it- his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and finally, his lips. 
Steve giggles. “So, that’s a yes?” 
“I’ll be here,” Eddie says with a grin. 
Steve wraps his arms around his neck. “And since the kids won’t be there I expect there to be kissing and flirting.”
Eddie inches closer, smirking. “Hm, you can count on it, sweetheart.” 
This time they don’t even get to kiss before the kids are yelling again, this time in unison. “Eddie!”
Eddie lets go of Steve’s waist and slaps his hands against his face. “Motherfucker!” He groans. Then louder, “I’m coming!” 
Steve shakes his head with a laugh as Eddie hops down from the counter.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie tells him. 
Steve gives him another dopey smile- or rather the same one since it hasn’t left his face at all. “Can’t wait.”
Eddie sweeps in for a quick kiss, one that the kids can’t interrupt, marveling for a second at the fact that he can simply do that now. Then with a final tug to Steve’s flowery apron, he skips out of the kitchen, turning around at the doorway to look at Steve one last time. He’s leaning against the counter, smile firmly plastered on his face and looking at Eddie like- 
Well, exactly like Eddie is looking at him. Lovestruck, he thinks comes close to describing it. And ain’t that something. 
He gives Eddie one of those little finger waves, and in return, Eddie blows him a kiss. Steve’s cheeks turning pink is the last thing he sees before he leaves the kitchen and joins the kids in the living room. 
“Okay, shitheads!” He says, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Which one of you am I sending home walking?”
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marvel-ous-m · 1 year
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Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (4/5)
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Five
Ao3 Link
A.N.: I can’t believe we’re already at the penultimate chapter! I know it seems crazy that it’ll all get wrapped up after this, but I promise it will. You’ll have to forgive me for the D&D game description... in addition to being a Stranger Things nerd, I have been a D&D nerd for the last ten or so years, so describing a campaign is super fun for me and I sometimes can get off-track. Speaking of which, I did some 1st edition research but I mostly play 5th, so apologies if there are any discrepancies! All that to say, hopefully you can pick up on the symbolism in the campaign scene, too! Okay, rant over, now onto the chapter. 
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“Alright, Sir Grant the Good, roll a perception check.” 
The familiar clatter of dice against the wood tabletop filled the room, and it seemed that the entire party held their breath to hear Grant’s result. 
“15 plus three- what’ll an 18 get me?”
Eddie hummed, tapping a finger on his chin. “You see a pair of eyes staring back at you from deep in the tree line. They’re slightly yellow, certainly belonging to an animal, and seemingly a large one.” Eddie pauses to roll a die, then hisses under his breath. “The animal meets your eyes and sees you’ve spotted it. It lets out a low growl- what do you do?” 
Grant groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, um- I draw my sword and I wave to Mistress Emery and Sir Geoffrey.” 
“Sir Geoffrey stands beside Sir Grant and readies his bow.” Jeff speaks from his seat next to Grant, holding a D20 between his fingers, ready to roll initiative.
Gareth grinned, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view of the map on the table. “I come up to stand next to Sir Grant and ready myself to cast call lightning.”
“Um, sorry, can I-” Steve whispered from his place at the table, a chair that Eddie had moved up to have Steve sit next to him while he DM’d. Eddie turned to Steve, raising an eyebrow. 
“What’s up, Steve? You’re free to speak whenever you want, you don’t have to just watch quietly.” Eddie nudged Steve’s side, encouraging the jock to speak. 
“Yeah, um, it’s just-” Steve cleared his throat, then looked at the other three members of Hellfire. “Mistress Emery is a Druid, right? So like, isn’t her animal handling through the roof or whatever? Why don’t you try and take care of the animal before you try to kill it?” 
Gareth blinked in surprise, shot a look at Jeff and Grant, then turned to Eddie. “He knows D&D?!”
“He is sitting right here.” Steve muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. 
“Right- sorry, what Gareth meant to say is- how do you know D&D?” Jeff gave Gareth a warning glare, then turned his attention Steve’s way. 
Steve sighed, shrugging somewhat awkwardly. “I babysit some middle schoolers. This one kid, Dustin, he’s obsessed with this stuff. Honestly all of them are, but I spend the most time with Dustin. He brought up a druid recently when we were walking around the tracks- sounded kinda interesting, so I listened.” Steve’s eyes shifted to stare down at the tabletop then, and he frowned to himself. “I used to pick up Nancy’s little brother from their campaigns, too. I’d usually have to wait around for at least thirty minutes for them to wrap things up before we could get a move on.” 
The party sat in silence for a few moments, processing the revelation about Steve’s D&D knowledge. Finally Grant hummed in thought, then turned to Gareth. “He’s got a point. Plus, if we don’t attack immediately we save some spell slots, potentially some HP too.” 
“Yeah, but the thing is growling! It’s probably going to pounce at us any minute now.” Gareth huffed, crossing his arms. 
“Maybe it’s hurt. That could be a warning growl rather than it trying to pounce at us.” Jeff reasoned. “Just give it a try, Gareth. I’ll keep an arrow loaded and I can flank while you do an animal handling check so that if it attacks I can try and shoot at it before it does any damage.” 
Gareth frowned, clearly annoyed, but nevertheless held up a D20. “Fine. I approach the forest line and hold a hand out in the direction of the animal.” 
“Roll for animal handling.” Eddie flipped through his binder of notes as he spoke, easily finding the page he was looking for. 
Gareth dropped the dice on the table, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when he read the resulting roll. “Huh- Nat 20, and I’ve got a plus five on my modifier. What’ll that do for me?” 
“The animal walks out of the forest, and you know from your studies that you’re now face to face with an Owlbear. The beast makes another growling sound, but is far less menacing. You see that Jeff was correct- the animal has a deep slash running from one of its talons up to its chest. You can tell that it originated from a sword, but the blood around the beast’s beak tells you that whatever fighter that had tried to attack the owlbear previously lost that battle. You can tell that the animal is more scared than anything. What do you do?” 
“Um… okay. I cast cure wounds and then reach into my pack and provide the Owlbear with a piece of dried meat to show it that it can trust me?” 
Eddie nodded, pulling a sticky note from his binder and handing it to Gareth, smirking as he did. “The Owlbear takes the food, trusts you, and decides to stay with your party. Here are its stats, it’ll now obey your commands and fight alongside you until its dying breath. Congratulations, Mistress Emery.” 
“Holy shit! We have an Owlbear now, that’s so fucking cool.” Grant grins, nudging Gareth’s side. “Good work, man.”
Gareth scanned the sticky note, then smiled at Steve. “Thank Steve, he’s the one who suggested it. Did you sneak a look at Eddie’s notes or something?” 
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, it just sounded like a better alternative.” 
“I made it injured so your band of fighters would have a better chance of killing the thing, but Steve’s little stunt had me thinking on my feet.” Eddie spoke up, then winked in Steve’s direction. Steve ducked his head in response, a blush playing at his cheeks. Interesting. 
“Thanks, man.” Jeff nodded in Steve’s direction. “Maybe you should play with us next time. You seem to know your stuff.”
Steve snorted at that, shaking his head once again. “I barely know anything. Besides, all the dice and numbers would probably confuse the hell outta me. But… uh, thanks for the offer. Maybe one day.” 
The party moved on with the campaign, killing some goblins on their route as they followed a map they had received from a barkeep at the beginning of the adventure. Steve chimed in occasionally when he found something interesting, and Eddie even had him roll a few times for some of the encounters. By the end of the campaign, the party was actively strategizing with him, and Steve was grinning ear to ear and giving his opinions on what to do next. The party ended up defeating the ‘big bad’ at the end, a goblin king and four of its soldiers. They recovered some treasure and a map, which Eddie told them would be the subject of the next chapter of their campaign. 
It was about 7pm when they finally wrapped everything up, cleaned the room out, locked up, and walked together out to the parking lot. Steve, who had been pretty awake and alert for the entirety of the playthrough, was now looking much more exhausted. He waved goodbye to the boys and pulled his coat tighter around himself, then rushed from the back door of the school to his car through the biting November air. 
The four members of Hellfire watched as Steve sped off, then stood together quietly under the awning of Hawkins High. Gareth broke the silence, crossing his arms to stave off the cold. “Alright, I’ll admit it. I was hesitant to believe it, but you’re right. Harrington’s cool.” 
“You were right about the other stuff too, Eddie. He didn’t look too good. Do you know what happened? Why Billy pounded on him last weekend?” Jeff spoke up next, fidgeting with a string hanging off of his sweater. 
Eddie sighed, producing a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it with his zippo. “Nope.” Eddie popped the ‘p’ when he spoke, then took a long drag of the cigarette. “Barely had a chance to ask him about it, and he deflected any time I tried to get more information outta him. I think it all really messed him up, but he doesn’t want to admit it.” 
The party stood in silence for a few more minutes, all lost in thought. This time, Grant broke the silence. “My mom wants me home for dinner by 7:30, so I gotta get going. But I’m cool with letting Steve into the party if everyone else is. Looks like it’d be good for him- probably good for us, too. He’s cool.” Grant zipped up his sweatshirt as he spoke, then pulled car keys out of his pocket. “Need a ride, Gareth?”
“Yeah, thanks man. I’m cool with letting Steve hang with us, too. Just let us know what we need to do Eddie.” Gareth waved goodbye to Jeff and Eddie, then followed Grant to his car. 
“How ‘bout you, Jeff? Got anything against letting Steve into Hellfire?” Eddie questioned quietly. He took another long drag from the cigarette, watching as the smoke he breathed out disappeared into the cold night air. 
“You know it’s fine by me, man.” Jeff paused, then sighed. “I am a little concerned, though.” 
Eddie frowned. “About what?”
“About you.” Jeff moved his attention from the stray thread on his sweater to Eddie, crossing his arms. “About him, too. I’ve known you the longest out of everyone here, Eds. I can tell when you’ve got a crush. Harrington’s fragile- you said it yourself, and you saw how he was when he mentioned Nancy. It looks like everything is really fresh for him right now. All I’m asking is for you to keep that in mind as you move forward in making him feel welcome. I’m worried that things could go sideways. Either one of you, or both of you, for that matter, could be really hurt if things go wrong. Just… take it slow.” Jeff checked his watch then, wincing when he saw the time. “I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Like Gareth said, just let us know what we can do to help Steve feel welcome.” 
Eddie nodded, watching as Jeff got into his car and drove off, leaving Eddie and his van alone in the parking lot. Eddie leaned against the brick wall of the school and dropped his cigarette onto the ground, watching as the light fizzled out in the thin layer of snow. 
Step Two: Get the Party to Come Around on Steve Harrington, complete. Time for the Step Three (which would likely be the last step in his plan): Get Steve Fully Integrated Into Hellfire. 
…with one important caveat. Do not fall harder for Steve Harrington. 
Easier said than done. 
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Tag List:  @ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bisexualdisastersworld @jinxjinn @copingmechanizm @blackpanzy @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @evix-syne666 @crisisinverted17 @satan-is-obsessed @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @trashcanniballecter   @thoughtfulbreadpolice @awholedamnmesstbh @chaoticvictorianspirit @jcmadgirl @satan-is-obsessed @tommyvelvet @sleepdeprivedflower @fruitmix @carvingsnowdogs @annabanannabeth @rhyswritesreadsandcries @a-little-unsteddie 
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randoimago · 7 months
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Hi there! Could you please do headcanons on Astarion, Wyll, Karlach and Gale with a Druid reader? And if it’s okay to be more specific, one who’s in the Circle of Stars? Thank you!
With a Circle of Stars Druid Reader
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Character(s): Astarion, Gale, Karlach, Wyll
Type of Request: Headcanons
Note(s): Ngl when I was looking into Circle of the Stars, it made me very much want to make a Druid character (that I'll probably never get to actually play in a campaign 😔 )
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Astarion
Oh good, finally someone that can use those random hovels that he always ends up coming across in his travels. He'd tell you to stay safe and don't play hero if you do decide to go through one, but also maybe find something shiny.
Asks if you're able to turn into a bear for research purposes. Is a bit disappointed if you can't. Sure, your shining dragon thing is pretty, but you're a druid. Why can't you turn into an actual dragon?
Just a bit of agree to disagreements with Astarion. Your fascination of the night sky is nice and all - and yeah, it's a bit romantic - but he's honestly a bit tired of the night. If your star magic can make him live in the daylight then that'll be great. Until then, he hopes this tadpole doesn't screw him over.
Gale
He's heard of druids that seek to control the cosmos, to meet someone from one of those circles is fascinating to him. Gale absolutely wants to hear of what findings you or your circle might have.
Honestly, he wants to hear about any interesting facts you have of constellations too. Just any knowledge in general, he'd love to learn. Gale is happy to tell you whatever knowledge he might have as well.
Gale is also a bit intrigued with our Wild Shaping abilities too. He has met many interesting creatures that he's summoned and while he knows you can't transform into many of them, he does have a request. Just now and then when he's reading a good book, he'd love if you can be a cat that he can cuddle with too.
Karlach
Karlach is so excited that you're a druid. She has a list of animals she's always wanted to pet, but has been unable to because of her running a bit hot. So if you'd be willing to indulge in becoming little critters for her to pet then she'll be ecstatic.
Considering a lot of her life has been stuck in the Hells, hearing that you are studying and learning about the skies sounds like a dream to her. She'll gladly hear any stories you have of the sparkling lights in the sky, happy to think back on those stories instead of remembering the ones from her past.
Might not quite understand everything you tell her about the stars and night sky - specifically the sciency stuff - but she does love listening to stories behind each constellation. Can't help but joke with you about one day having her own constellation in the night sky.
Wyll
With all of Wyll's traveling, he has some knowledge of the stars. He's needed to rely on them to help him travel a bit so he'd love to learn a bit about your star maps in hopes it'll also help him out in the future.
Can't help but be slightly in awe when he sees your Starry Form. He finds it absolutely gorgeous. The way you glimmer and look like the a star map yourself is amazing. As if he thought he couldn't fall in love further, you just prove him wrong.
Wyll is on a mission whenever your group stops at a city or town now. He's just looking for star maps or special inks and such for you to create and add on to your own. While it's not quite bouquets of flowers, he hopes that you appreciate the gesture.
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worldfullofash · 9 months
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Eddie Munson headcanons
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Headbangs and plays air guitar to his favourite songs
His room is filled with records and posters of KISS, W.A.S.P, Metallica, Iron Maiden and Motörhead >>>>
He does appreciate the country music Wayne listens to
Secretly dances to Madonna when he’s alone
Nobody can resist Madonna. Not even our favourite metalhead
One time Wayne caught him in the middle his lonely dance party… they stared at each other for a solid 5 seconds. ‘Material Girl’ still playing in the background. Wayne just closed the door and they never spoke of it
When you catch him robbing your fridge he looks at you like a startled raccoon
Eddie loves to share his opinions and hot takes with his friends
Ngl he is very straightforward, he says what he thinks. That’s why others are wary of him. He can come across as mean to some
BUT if you tell him that his comment crossed the line, he will understand and watch his words more often
This guy has a good but dark sense of humour
He cries when watching sad movies, like a lot. Especially if an animal died in it
He loves jewellery
He buys cat food to give to the strays in the trailer park
Eddie loves reading fantasy books to little children at the trailer park. Grinning when they giggle as he uses silly voices for each character (At least some people appreciate his weirdness)
He’s very clumsy. Would definitely trip over his own feet
Smells his clothes to see if they’re still wearable (me too, girl, me too)
Will steal food of your plate
He collects buttons and pins
Wears band tees all the time
When one of these t-shirts gets to small, he cuts the print and uses it as a patch. Or he will use the shirt as decoration if he really liked it
Wayne and him sit outside and have deep conversations while smoking a cigarette
Friendships are very important to him. He feels very lucky to have friends who share the same interests. Even if he doesn’t verbally express it often
When he cares for someone, he makes sure they know it. Not through words, but through actions.
He has very worn out copies of The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit. He won’t ever replace them, they’re like his children
He can imitate Gollum. The voice is shockingly accurate
Without Hellfire and Corroded Coffin he wouldn’t know what to do
He spends so much time on his dnd campaigns
He makes sketches of the characters, plans the whole plot himself, and practices the voices he wants to use for each character
Where does he get the time for all this you ask? Well let’s say school is not his first priority
It’s not that he doesn’t want to graduate, but he’d rather put his effort in Corroded Coffin. So in a few years he can break through with his band
Eddie can’t mask his facial expressions. You can always know what he thinks just by looking at his face
This guy is really a menace, but we love him for it
Do you want a part 2????
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eriksyoudumby · 10 months
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So I had an idea for a while in which Sergei runs a dnd campaign and it’s probably super OOC because I want Katya to be there but I don’t care
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Olga became the party leader because she’s played before and also the kids get distracted by everything (she’s also a cleric bc she did not expect other to pick support classes)
Dima made a wizard and is slowly becoming a walking encyclopedia, much to Sergei’s dislike.
Anya made a monk because they get to punch things and she wants to roleplay having a stand when she levels up.
Katya is a Druid because she wants to become fluffy animals and commit crimes while looking adorable.
Sanya made an edgy rouge.
And Yura didn’t make anything because he couldn’t be bothered to read, so Sergei made a character sheet for him. He’s a fish with a semi human face and a 1 in charisma, and is also a bard. (Charisma is like… the main stat in this class. It’s also how u flit or convince people to listen to u)
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Ok everyone has me in a punk Steve & Eleven mind set.
This is refining & combining two separate Steve being close with the girls/El au ideas I've had recently
So, what if Steve was the one who found Eleven on that first night, everything would fall out so differently from there
Since he cancelled on Nancy no party with secret government psychic kid on the property, Barb didn't die. When Will got taken, Barb & Nancy both know Jonathan so they get involved through helping & supporting him.
Meanwhile Steve was panicking while actively hiding a mostly nonverbal child. He's almost certain she's been severely neglected at least, probably abused. Bad things have happened to her, he recognized the signs. He'd been that kid. He sees himself in the way she's jumpy, defensive, weirdly naive, in the way she always waits to see what he's doing first, before she says or does anything herself.
He won't to give her back to whomever she ran from, can't bring himself to do that to another kid. His parents were never home so they're not a problem but he doesn't know what the fuck to do about the government.
In a panic he went to the guy he bought his weed from (he knows how to hide from the cops right?)
Eddie Munson
Eddie didn't know what was going on in Hawkins but what he did know was that all these undercover government vans weren't here for a wild animal attack... or him, thank the Deities for small favors.
So when Steve fucking Harrington showed up on his doorstep with a magical child, panic in his and eyes, and no idea what to do next, Eddie was mostly relieved.
Relieved and maybe just a little intrigued
An escaped secret government psychic kid, a totally different missing kid of the same age, a town full of under cover fbi vans(or worse), and these reported animal attacks had to be connected, if Eddie was running this campaign he would never have this much going on at once that wasn't part of a larger connected story. He just couldn't see the whole picture yet. They needed more information & they needed resources
Jonathan & Nancy had been acting super suspicious the last few days. Eddie usually minded his business but under these circumstances, after a brief urgent discussion, they decided it might be wise to just pop in and see what was what. Maybe they knew what the hell was going on. They could all compare notes at least
They took Eddie's van bc he was not gonna be at the mercy of Steve Harrington for transportation. Doing foolish shit like that could get you hate crimed... Plus being the town weed slinger had it's benefits. He knew where everyone lived.
On the way to try and find the other kids to compare those notes, Eleven, who was very quiet but had an eerie way of just knowing things, found the crate he kept ppl's forgotten tapes in, there was a little bit of everything in that crate, a musical lost and found that he couldn't bring himself to discard, even if he personally thought the music was boring
Eleven picked a tape, waving it at them like it had significance.
Well why not?
Steve showed her how to put it in the tape deck. The Runaways crashed into life on his better then average speakers. Eddie expected Steve to complain, but he just listened very very closely, eyes closed like he was straining to hear the lyrics over the heavy guitars.
"you ok Stevie?"
"huh? Yeah yeah, this is just... relatable. I kinda didn't expect it, you know? ... Do you think they'll be able to help?"
There was only one way to find out, they were here. The Byers residence blinked dimly. Eddie thought the cheer was ominous given the circumstances.
Eleven appeared between the seats, brow furrowed.
"we need to hurry, it's coming"
WELL THAT WASN'T TERRIFYING AT ALL-
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honourablejester · 11 months
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Spelljammer Campaign Concept
Since I’m space-ttrpg brained at the minute. One thing specific to spelljammer’s Astral Sea setting that I really wish they’d added more to is the idea that it’s full of dead gods. And live ones, yes, but it’s the gargantuan celestial corpses that I’m interested in. (Which sounds weird when I say it like that, but anyway). There’s a canonical city, the githyanki city of Tu’narath, built on one of these corpses, and apparently in older lore Red Wizards of Thay pulled an artefact that beat like a heart out of it. There’s an idea that some aspect of divinity or even life still resides in some of these vast remains, some spark of godhood that provides power and even some animation to a thing long dead. In whatever sense gods can die.
And. Look. That is a hell of a concept to just throw out there and dismiss in a single sentence and small sidebar in your new setting book. I’m mad about it. Anyway.
The Astral Sea is littered with the corpses of dead gods, strange and forgotten deities from thousands of worlds. Strange beings that have become strange places, islands in a silver vastness, sometimes still pulsing with the echoes of divine life and perhaps divine natures. Places big enough to build cities on. Or dungeons in. Big enough to explore. Searching for what?
So. Picture this campaign. A mysterious backer is approaching the crews of adventurous spelljammer vessels, sponsoring expeditions to strange places in the Astral Sea. Terrifying places in the Astral Sea. The remnants of what were once gods, and now are bizarre islands full of strange magic and the echoes of old divine domains. This backer is searching for something specific from these sites, these corpses, and, on top of actual payment, is willing to allow crews to keep anything else they find on these expeditions for themselves, provided they bring everything they find back and allow the backer to examine them and choose a single item for themselves. Upon receipt of this item, they will pay the crew what they owe, and allow them to keep the rest.
This is because it’s not an item they’re searching for, as such. It’s a shard. A shard of lost divinity. A fragment of celestial life, still throbbing at the hearts of vast corpses. The form it takes will be different every time. The form of the deity will be different every time, and so the seat of their last remaining fragment of divinity will be different also. It might look, and feel, like anything. But the backer will know it when they see it. And they’ll pay for it.
They’re not going to say this, of course. They’re not going to tell anyone what they’re looking for. But they’re sending crews out. Maybe they’ve been sending crews out for a while. No one ages in the Astral Sea, so maybe they’ve been on this quest for time without meaning. One shard isn’t enough. Not for their purposes. Many of them are so small and so faded, bare motes of potential after aeons of death. They don’t want a single fragment of divinity, this person, they need enough to make a whole one. A whole divinity. Necromancy of the rudest sort, a frankensteined apotheosis. If you eat the fractured souls of enough dead gods, sooner or later, won’t you become one yourself?
I’m picturing an eldritch lich, personally. One that’s been listening to whispers from the Far Realm for far too long. A puppetmaster being puppeted themselves, maybe. What forces in creation have an interest in the ascension of a frankensteined god? What would the results be of a god made of pieces, torn fragments, of so many lost and disparate and unwilling dead deities? Any and all deities. Good, evil, alien, of any and all domains, scavenged and consumed into a single, roiling whole. What sort of divinity would result from so traumatic a process? And what would that divinity then do?
But all that’s in the future. An endgame perhaps aeons or only a few remaining shards down the line. For the moment, what’s being asked is this:
Travel the Astral Sea. Find the body of a god. Venture into its depths. Bring me everything you find.
Now. I’m going to take objection to the description of the dead gods provided in Astral Adventurer’s Guide, and offer a different direction:
“The Astral Sea is also where one can find the petrified remains of gods who were slain by more powerful entities or who lost all their mortal worshipers and perished as a result. A dead god looks like a gigantic, nondescript stone statue that bears little resemblance to the divine entity it once was. Githyanki, mind flayers, psurlons, and other natives of the Astral Plane sometimes turn these drifting hulks into outposts and cities, many of which are hollowed out beneath the surface.”
A giant nondescript statue that looks nothing like the deity once did. No. Boring. Even Tu’narath still has six arms, so there’s some resemblance happening there. And besides. It’s just cooler, more fun, more interesting, if the dead gods do resemble what they once were. If they are influenced by what domains they once held. Because then … the universe is your oyster.
They’re all different. All these island corpses. These slain gods. This is the Astral Sea. These are the deities of a thousand worlds and a thousand species and a thousand forgotten realms. They might look like anything. Shaped by the echoes of the god’s nature and its domains and its species. The dead sea god that looks like a vast alien whale, whose gut is filled with strange waters and strange creatures, and into whose belly the party must venture. A forgotten deity of knowledge whose vast skull now contains a calcified, crystalline ‘library’ with aeons of knowledge written in light onto spun fibres of crystal. A deity of madness, darkness and despair whose corpse is a labyrinthine maze of passages that leech will and soul the further you venture into them, a lingering undead malice that doesn’t want you dead so much as maddened and undone. And your sponsor won’t care, so long as at least one of you makes it back, that shard of dark power clutched in your trembling fist.
Some of the bodies might still be guarded. Some of them might be inhabited, with cities and realms nested into their bones and calcified flesh. Some might be considerably more ‘alive’ than others. Some might be just stranger than others, deities so lost and far-flung and alien that nothing about even their inert remains makes sense. You have … an infinity of options here. Let your inner dungeon designer completely off the chain. These are the corpses of dead gods made physical, floating in an infinite silver sea of possibilities. There are no rules, not even physics. You could do literally anything you wanted here.
It'd make sense if the backer was sending crews to less well-known, and therefore perhaps stranger and more dangerous, corpses, just to be sure that no one had taken or destroyed what they’re looking for already. The more alive ones, more likely to still contain lingering power and divinity. So you have an excellent excuse to get weird up in here.
Basically, if you want a vast, eldritch, apocalyptic dungeon crawl, or series of dungeon crawls, in space, then the Astral Sea is very much the perfect setting. Although, yes, this is likely a high level campaign, unless you want to guide the party in with more accessible godly dungeons first. Even then it’s probably on the high side.
There’s also the shards themselves to consider. They’ll likely be potent magic items. You’re holding a piece of a god’s divinity in your hand. With powers probably themed to what the god would have been in life. Although they don’t necessarily need to be powerful. The divinity might be faded enough, shattered and torn by death, that it doesn’t do much externally anymore. Its power is intrinsic to what it is, not what it does. And maybe that makes more sense for how crews are willing to give them up afterwards, if they’re only mildly impressive amidst other loot.
Though that could be a thing. If it’s a magic item that you know for a fact your party will want to keep, and then that could bring them into conflict with their ‘backer’ before they ever maybe twig to the greater issue going on.
And there is a question of how and if they do twig to that. How would they find out the goals here. Are there other interested parties who’ve figured out what our backer is trying for? Or simply parties who are aware that they have been desecrating dead gods and who object on purely moral and philosophical grounds? How has society in the Astral Sea evolved around the fact that there are dead gods just drifting around?
How do living gods, deities with living dominions in the Sea, deal with the idea that there is a creature going around looting the corpses of their deceased forebearers? Grave-robbing in the Astral Sea can potentially be a couple of orders of magnitude more apocalyptic than the terrestrial equivalent normally manages, and I do love that.
(Or maybe it’s not apocalyptic. Maybe there’s nothing left in the dead gods that could actually make a new one, no matter how many you eat, and those few deities who are aware of our backer’s quest, deities of knowledge, perhaps, just look at them with pity for this obsession, delusion, of theirs. They don’t want them stopped because of the danger, but just because of the disrespect, the desecration. That, and the fact that eating bits of dead gods, while it might not make you a god yourself, still won’t do anything good to you, and perhaps there is a certain amount of not goodness happening that does need to be dealt with. Dealer’s choice.
Or perhaps the gods think that, and they’re wrong, and now you have to convince incredible all-powerful entities that there is a genuine threat there, whether they believe it or not)
I just. You can’t just put that out there, that this setting you’re casually sailing around is full of dead gods, and not … do something with it. Expand on it. Play with the implications of it. The Astral Sea is a vast, infinite celestial graveyard, and the remains of dead gods are locations you can interact with. That is a concept, and you can have a bit more fun with it than ‘nondescript statue asteroids that people can build on’ over here. Lingering echoes of what those deities once were, fragments of divinity, the sheer magical and theological potential of being able to grave-rob a dead god. Come on. You have divine corpses, in a setting where necromancy exists. Somebody’s gonna do something apocalyptic with the implications of that, you just know they are.
And in the process, you can get some really cool and weird dungeons to explore. Heh.
Spelljammer has such potential as a setting. The Astral Sea allows so many possibilities. How do you open with ‘you are sailing through a setting where you can make port at a god’s house or at a rock that is a dead god’ and just … park that there and leave it? Good god. Good gods. And bad ones, and weird ones, and completely inexplicable ones too.
I’m not sure Wizards quite understood how much they jumped the scale by bringing spelljammer back and putting it in the Astral Sea. So many settings have archmages and other people spend so many resources to try and reach the realms of gods, and in spelljammer you and your dinky ship can just sail up and knock on their door. Maybe not get in, but you can totally just heave up to any deity who has a Dominion in the Sea and at least knock. You can put your smuggler’s cache in a dead god’s skull. The deities are now, in this setting, significantly more interactable. If you want to try and necromancy a god’s corpse, that is a thing you can attempt.
Which is probably why they tried to tone it down with the whole ‘nondescript statues’ thing, that dead gods in the Sea are just rocks that people build on/in, but … Honestly? It’s still a dead god. You can’t undo the raw scale of that. And maybe you shouldn’t, either.
Nah. Play into the bonkers scale and setting implications of a potentially infinite number of god corpses just littered around the place, with the astral floating kingdoms and vacation homes of living gods keeping them company, and you in your dinky little boat sailing cheerfully out among them. Because that’s amazing, it really is.
Anyway. Have fun. Moving swiftly on.
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landoffreaksandfrogs · 8 months
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what type of youtubers would the trolls be? Karkat would definitely make rants and reviews of romance movies, Kanaya would make makeup or fashion tutorials, Sollux has an IT channel he made so people stop bugging him (nobody ever bothers checking it instead of asking him)
quick spitballed ideas bc this is such a cute prompt
aradia - reviews of inaccurate halloween decoration skeletons. theyre not rated on anatomical accuracy but by how much swag they have. most of her other videos are short clips of her livevlogging her day and telling short stories, but shes funny and witty so they do numbers. very low effort and low cost, but shes having fun.
tavros - CARD PACK UNWRAPPING. guy who in no way can afford his hobby but keeps getting these card packs for his channel. surprisingly relaxing to listen to while you have him minimized in another tab while you do something else. he goes over each card in the deck and their effects as well as rarity.
sollux - basically what you said. IT guide on walking through common computer problems. horrible mic quality, but really helpful information.
karkat - ABSOLUTELY would be a movie reviewer. no facecam but for whatever reason has CRISP mic quality. somehow NEVER peaks his mic despite all the screaming he does. he loves media analysis and getting pissed off over fandom drama so hed probably also do breakdowns of scandals in fandom spheres, and somehow almost getting sued.
nepeta - SPEEDPAINTS. and like. flipnote hatena style amvs. obviously very amateur but its a very cute art style and she has no concept of copyright infringement.
kanaya - makeup tutorials and fashion reviews. would definitely be like that one youtuber who reviews the accuracy of historical fiction dresses in film and tv. everytime the virgin mothergrub is in the background of her videos her comments are spammed with "MOTH MOM REAL"
terezi - animated shitposts. like. grinchs ultimatum, garfielf, shit like that. REALLY bright colors and shitty linework with windows moviemaker transitions. no one knows who she is and shes never done a face reveal so shes a total enigma. there are deep web theories that her videos are anti-empire propaganda.
vriska - flarping tutorials. genuinely. she goes over mechanics, spells, class breakdowns, even shares stories of her own flarp campaigns. VERY passionate about it and kind of has an asshole youtuber persona. posts an apology video like once a month then goes on like nothing happened. replies to every mean comment.
equius - weightlifting videos. dead silent. just grunting and metal clanking. no editing. addresses every comment in every video. lots of heavy breathing. very uncomfortable. almost like performance art in how desolate it feels.
gamzee - cooking videos. its as bad as it sounds.
eridan - showing off everything in his hive and talking about it. his guns. his outfits. ranting about pollution. each video is an hour long. its mostly just him complaining or bragging about the stuff he owns.
feferi - has a live feed of her cuttlefish pen going constantly. posts animal care videos. posts music. does challenges. her youtube is kind of an inconsistent mish-mash of content but one thing remains: you will watch her cuttlefish.
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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Propaganda
Chine (Friends at the Table: Sangfielle):
”Look at how they grow ‘em here in Blackwick. God damn.”
taz fandom i'm begging to you please listen to fatt: sangfielle and experience chine please duck is an extended bit about wayne newton and he doesn't even try to blow up a carnival to upset mother nature and force a random town to forever be attendants to the aforementioned eternal carnival please oh please...
If Chine eating a mattress has a million fans, I am one, etc. etc.
just LOOK AT HIM
and he can turn into a shrew monster
this guy has great tits, this guy is a monster, this guy is nonbinary and all the bugs love them!! he's a dad, a writer, a macrame artist?? they're a goofball, they're deadly serious, they're shockingly competent! he's a vessel of the chaos of nature itself!! he's an animal control guy that sides with the animals, he's the living embodiment of adhd with a side of depression, and weirdly suspicious of the color yellow?? they swing a rusty poll-ax, they know how to read music and are completely comfortable singing with their co-workers..... which is to say:
vote for chinel <3
Vote for chine hes a wereshrew and morally ambiguous and easily lusted for
CHINE IS A BIG HAIRY EXOTERRORIST WOODSY FAILDAD WERESHREW DOG-GUY DOG-BOY... THEY ATE A WHOLE MATTRESS TO ESCAPE PRISON AND HE ATE A LIGHTBULB TO TOUCH THE GENIUS OF CREATION... AND HE'S REALLY GAY. THEY/HE LEGEND (AS IN ACTUAL LEGEND, PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF THEM)
GO MY PSIONIC WARRIORS!!!!!!!!
Tryst Valentine (Campaign: Star Wars):
Hot shot pilot/smuggler that will hit on anything that moves, but the best possible version of that character in almost a satirical way while also being super genuine. Too sexy to be able to read, to stubborn to admit they can't.
Han Solo but worse! A very funny little scoundrel stuck with a clone trooper and a mercenary (by choice). Mostly spends his time flirting, but gets serious when he needs to.
you know its trystan valentine i know it's trystan valentine what are we doing here? genderqueer freak of a man (the most positive voice in the world)
I wrote the first paragraph of Tryst propaganda. He's "oh no, I'm going to have to sleep with this idiot" sexy. He knows it makes you look bad for thinking he's hot and he uses that power for evil.
Art of Chine made by @wereshrew-admirer.
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mylordshesacactus · 5 months
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Suncrest Campaign: Coda (Or: The Bugbear Wedding)
(Listen. Everyone in this campaign gets to craft their perfect ending and epilogue--this one, this last little bit of worldbuilding and giving everyone a vignette to close out on, was my parting gift to myself.)
First and foremost, it's important to establish: The bugbear wedding ceremony is genderless.
The roles are not bride/groom, male/female. Bugbear culture is pretty universally military, or military-adjacent, in a way that largely elides those kinds of strict gender roles. The core concern in a bugbear wedding is the blending of clans, of families or villages, and that can happen in any number of ways.
In a bugbear wedding, the stark thematic divide is which partner belongs to the "host" clan, and which is the newcomer. In a very real sense, nothing else matters. And...not necessarily in the way you think.
When we open on this ceremony: Thesh Nightshadow, daughter of the clan chieftain, is dressed in her full ceremonial armor and looking both elated and terrified. She checks in with the party, briefly, then goes to wait beside a massive, laden banquet table.
This table is both the central display of the wedding, and an eloquent thesis on how bugbears view a marriage.
Thesh, in this marriage, is the host clan. She grew up in the Talonholde clan; her father is its leader; she stands to inherit that position. Her friends and rivals and neighbors are all here--they all know her, they all have twenty-odd years of memories together, favors traded, arguments resolved. A history and a mutual understanding of one another, even if they don't necessarily like each other.
Paisley, on the other hand? Even if she wasn't human...she grew up in the neighboring village of Thistledale, and while of course she'll remain in close contact with her family, she's obviously going to be joining the clan of the chieftain's daughter.
Bugbears understand: This places the newcomer in a position of incredible vulnerability.
Paise is very familiar with Talonholde, but in a lot of marriages the incoming partner won't have had time to do that, just for pure practicality reasons. And even so...she loves the place, they accept her, she feels safe, but she doesn't have nearly the same level of...connection. She wasn't born here. Her new neighbors haven't seen her at her best and worst for years, enough to feel secure in knowing her character. She knows few of them very well, and none of them as well as her own people. She is leaving her family home for this marriage, and all she has in return is pure trust that her new clan will protect her as well as her old one would have.
To bugbear sensibilities, the idea of a dowry is obscene. You are asking for this immense sacrifice, this profound leap of faith--and you have the gall to ask them to prove themselves? To contribute material wealth and resources? That's disgusting. That's horrific. That's not a marriage. That kind of callous trade would be demeaning to cattle.
It is the host clan's responsibility to prove their worth. It is one hundred percent on Thesh's shoulders to show her new wife that she will be accepted and embraced by her new clan.
Thus: The table.
Now, Thesh herself is obviously in a position of considerable influence, so her display table is a massive buffet in the center of the village, laden with every possible food and drink imaginable and a gorgeously posed roast stag, with antlers intact for dramatic effect, as the centerpiece--a stag she hunted herself, because this is as much a statement to her home clan as it is to her wife. However, prominently featured among the feast--brought to the front and present in great numbers, so everyone can clearly see it, are five items:
Bread
Fruit
Cheese
Mead and/or Wine
Freshly-slaughtered meat, with a bowl containing the blood of the animal as proof.
Those five items are required for the marriage ceremony. Combined, they represent all the collective resources of a village--none of which should be so punishing that a poor family is unable to source them for a special occasion, but representing a real investment all the same. The requirement isn't meant to be a class barrier--the items can be present in small amounts, the fruit can be preserved, the mead can be in the form of raw honey if you really must--but you need to be able to demonstrate a willingness to try.
(The meat MUST be fresh. It does not have to be something as dramatic as a deer. Most families kill a goat or a pig, or put out a snare for rabbit. What is required for the marriage to be considered valid is that it cannot be smoked, dried, salted, etc--it must be a current, intentional sacrifice of livestock (demonstrating your willingness to give up something valuable for this person's sake) or freshly-hunted game (demonstrating your ability to either hunt yourself or purchase/barter game from a hunter). This, again, isn't meant to be a class barrier--but in addition to bugbear tradition demanding a willingness to make real sacrifice in the newcomer's name, the blood is used in the ceremony itself.)
A horn is blown or a drum is beaten, the gates of the village (or, if this were a smaller private ceremony, the gate of the farm or some other boundary-line delineation of a family's property) open, and the new clan member enters.
Paisley is also dressed in her best--an apprentice's tunic from the university where she studied to become an Artificer--but otherwise, she carries nothing. No entourage (her family and friends are obviously present but they don't walk in with her), no offerings--just a woven basket filled with wildflowers, matching the flowers woven into her cloak for the occasion.
(Traditionally it's a very literal "cloak of flowers", woven entirely from intertwined wildflower stems, but that is insanely difficult and pretty much everyone just weaves flowers into a canvas base.)
This, too, is symbolic: The newcomer brings only themselves, and that which can be gathered freely. Paisley has nothing to prove.
They meet in front of the banquet table where Thesh is waiting with a village elder, and the bowl of blood over a low brazier--not hot, just enough to keep it liquid.
The host clan's gestures are made first--three promises, an oath of what they intend to offer their newest member. The bugbear elder dips his fingers in the stag's blood; he draws two fingers down Paisley's forehead (for honesty), then dips his thumb and makes a single mark in the center of chin (for stability). He then offers the bowl to Thesh, who dips both thumbs in the blood and draws them along Paisley's cheekbones, cupping her face in the process--protection.
Paisley's gestures are made if and only if she accepts the host clan's demonstrations as legitimate and sufficient. Obviously, she does.
She hands her basket to the elder, and takes out her own gestures in order. First, a necklace of flowers that she places around Thesh's neck (new life). Second, a woven flower crown on her head (new ideas). And then, finally, she sweeps the flower cape off her back and throws it around Thesh's shoulders instead--this often gets some laughter because throughout the whole process, Thesh hasn't actually stopped holding Paise's face between her hands, so it can be a little awkward.
That last gesture symbolizes Paisley fully embracing her new clan--she's not expected to sever any ties, of course, but it's a transfer of primary loyalty. Talonholde is her clan now, fully and completely--they've embraced her as their own and offered her not only the rights of a member but also the acceptance and support of a neighbor, and in turn, she's offered them herself in her entirety.
There is then, obviously, a lot of crying and a big feast, all that food wasn't for show.
Paise and Thesh's little background romance was lowkey one of my favorite things to seed into this campaign--as soon as I realized Nim's sister was going to be central to the werewolf arc, I also knew I had to give her a dykey little interspecies romance. (There was initially going to be a like, paranoid little mutual-suspicion thing going on where Talonholde and Thistledale both accused each other of kidnapping or murder, but by that point I knew my players wouldn't bite on that at all and it was more interesting to have the two villages be historically cordial--not friendly, but not hostile.)
They were both taken by the wolf cult during a gay little meeting at the crossroads between their villages, a thing they apparently did almost every week to exchange the letters they'd write during the week. Nim's family presented this as, you know, Paise being a smart girl and Thesh also being real smart and they share a lot of wild ideas, but the whole party immediately went OH??? and they were correct.
When they found the girls, Thesh was half dead--when the werewolves took Paisley to torture as bait, Thesh tried to protect her. They broke her jaw and left it untreated for days; without Andromeda's timely healing magic, she likely wouldn't have survived another night. The party got everyone out of the camp safely--some by the skin of their teeth, but they did it--and, well.
Look, they were the very image of propriety when they reunited, okay. But Thesh dragging herself back from death's door and IMMEDIATELY trying to tell their rescuers that the cult had taken Paisley--refusing to run until she knew she was safe, in fact--was pretty telling. And then when they got everyone back to Albion's thicket Paise basically ignored her rescued neighbors in favor of scrambling up to Thesh and running frantic hands over her jaw and ears and ribs and--
Nim thinks they're adorable and is fully supportive. He DOES have to rib his baby sister a little bit though. Big brother instinct goes both ways.
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cross-my-heartt · 11 months
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Modern AU Cat Batch
Hcs for a modern AU where each batcher has their own kitty that looks remarkably like their very own cat avatar.
(TW for mentions of euthanasia and past animal neglect and abuse)
- Starting with Hunter, his cat companion is a long haired tortoiseshell they adopted off the streets. He's their first cat and ironically Hunter becomes the most attached to him despite being the most opposed to getting a pet. Because cats are a big responsibility and not to mention costly, but also he definitely doesn't get up at 6 am to feed the cat before anyone else and that's definitely not lap space he's making for it and of course it was Omega who picked out the red collar with the skull pendant. Trust me.
- Tech's furry friend is a Modern Siamese who was given to him for his birthday by shelter owner and part time antique dealer Phee. Tech jr was abandoned at the shelter for being 'too chatty' and 'having eye problems' and Phee - a long time friend of the group they met at the vet's and rightfully angry that someone would abandon a pet for traits common to the breed - decides he would feel right at home with the batchers who already have one cat. And of course, the sweet curious Siamese reminded her of someone.
- Echo's Cornish Rex was part of a cattery and was meant to be used as a 'stud'. But because he wasn't neutered he wandered off outside one day and got hit by a car. His owners paid for his surgery and prosthetics but decided they would no longer use him for breeding. And Phee being Phee instantly recognized who the poor little fellow belonged with. Echo didn't hesitate a second before accepting the little guy (who had grown thin and shy from all the stress) and helped him learn how to use his prosthetics while nursing him back to full health.
- Lulu (originally named Lucas) was a chubby British Shorthair who was injured in a fireworks accident and whose owners bailed on him once they saw his surgery bills. The batch helped Phee organize a charity campaign to cover the costs in which Wrecker was very active - talking to people, posting photos with Lulu and spreading the word. Once the sum was raised and Lulu had recovered it was time to put him up for adoption. Wrecker parted with him reluctantly - they already had three cats and a fourth one would be too much - but seeing how attached he was to Lulu the batch decided to surprise him by adopting Lulu secretly. Wrecker may or may not have cried when he saw the adoption certificate.
- One day Phee's employees bring in a tom who's been captured in the street after reports of an aggressive cat. It's a gray haired Oriental Shorthair who shows signs of having been abused by his previous owners and is extremely distrustful of humans. Normally the procedure is to contact the owners but Phee is so angry at the state of him that she quietly dechips him and throws away his collar (she's seen too many abusive owners get away with it to risk letting them know they found him). They try to rehabilitate him but with little success. There's talk of putting him down because several employees have already been badly clawed and as a last desperate resort she asks Hunter to try and socialize him in a home environment (seeing as the batch already had ample experience with abandoned/injured cats). Hunter agrees and they start by giving him a separate room, spending a little time with him each day and giving him treats to create a positive experience but despite all their efforts he remains hostile and just keeps hissing and swiping at everyone. By the end Hunter's reached the end of his rope and despite hating the thought of having to hand him over to be put down, he doesn't see how the tom could improve. That is until one day when Crosshair comes back from a prolonged business trip. He listens to Hunter's exhausted retelling of events, stays quiet for a bit and then goes into the cat's room and just... sits there for a bit. Keeping his distance, minding his own business and not paying attention to the cat at all. At first the tom treats him the same as everyone else but then the hissing becomes less frequent and he slowly starts coming out of his hiding spot. It's a slow process but one day Hunter finally enters the room to find the tom sprawled over a reading Crosshair's lap, purring contentedly while stretching out belly up. Needless to say they don't return him to the shelter and he slowly becomes part of the family. Even though he has a clear favorite.
- And finally, after weeks of Omega complaining about not having a cat copy of her own, their stray brings in an orphaned ginger kitten. For a while Hunter vehemently denies any suggestion that his cat is acting 'motherly' towards the kitten. Nobody buys it. Eventually he stops trying altogether.
(If y'all thought I wouldn't make Crosshair's part the longest, you clearly don't know me. Also I will draw all of them one day... one day.)
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