#does he always just carry a ukulele with him?

[d-lanx]

[meangirls-imagines]

Welcome to the Poly!Plasticsverse!

collab with: @yungpoetfics (my fav bubs in the world)

Regina George

@queenbgina/@callmereginald (she/her)

North Shore's Queen Bee

Soft for her girlfriends

The mom of the group

Basically a sugar mommy for her girls

Lifehack Geek

TikTok hater

Has rational fear of werewolves

Will fight a bitch

Victoria's Secret girly

Female rapper stan (Doja, Cardi, Megan, etc.)

Gryffindor

Lesbian

Gretchen Wieners

@thegretchenw/@greatgretsby (she/her/it (only if ur special))

The second mom of the group

Softest human

Loves playing with her girlfriends hair

#1 Twilight hater

Has a letterboxd account just to leave bad reviews

The level headed one usually, but will snap when she needs

Cuddly as fuck

Loves Fleur du Mal lingerie

Stubborn as Fuck

Wine drinker/expert

Loves vintage music (Elvis, Elton John, etc.)

Hufflepuff

Bisexual

Karen Shetty

@karebearz/@karensheetty (any pronouns)

Ambidextrous™️

Loves Spongebob

Plant Parent

Knows Britney Spears and Lady Gaga choreo

Kpop girly (Blackpink, BTS, etc.)

Lettering expert

Has Funko Pop collection

Squishmallow lover

Ravenclaw

Pansexual

Cady Heron

@cady_heron/@defnotcaddy (she/her)

The third mom of the group

Whispers when angry

Carries bandaids at all times

Always has snacks

Lactose Intolerant (but LOVES cheese)

Cries at Rom-Coms

LOVES hugs

Cannot handle spicy food

Sleeps with a teddy bear

Happy to be here

Friends with everyone's parents

Token vanilla of the group

Has diary (with a heart shaped lock)

Bisexual

Aaron Samuels

@aaronsammy/@atomicaaron (he/him) or (ho/mie)

1/3 of Terror Trio

Y/N's best friend

North Shore's resident Himbo

Will do anything if someone says "I dare you"

Impulsive buyer

Has one brain cell (shares it with Y/N)

Overuses 💪 emoji

Usually confused

1/2 Golden Retriever duo

Can skateboard

Uses Axe body spray

Co-founder of Stuntmares

Dreams of grabbing a teddy in a claw machine (bucket list item)

Ass man

Owns too many grey sweatpants

Kisses his homies (homiesexual)

Has never watched Harry Potter

Watches lifestyle coaches on YT

Can play the ukulele (really badly)

Loves Eminem and Harry Styles (would fuck Harry Styles)

Writes Larry Stylinson fanfics

Kissed Y/N once (regretted immediately)

Bisexual

Damian Hubbard

@hubbarddamian/@damianishubby (he/him/they)

Learned how to sew from Janis

Does drag and has a YT channel (Anita Dick)

Huge Adore Delano stan

Will fight anyone who hurts Janis

Doesn't like Rupaul as a person, but is a religious Drag Race fan

#1 Poly!Plastics fan

Has an 8 step skincare routine

Cameraman for Stuntmares

Earlybird

Lies about having curfew to go to sleep early

Ravenclaw

(Lowkey wishes he was a Slytherin bc it's the "cuntiest house"

Him and Karen watch The Bachelor

Fav movie is Dirty Dancing (did the lift with Janis)

Learned how to twerk from Y/N

Gay

Janis Imi'Ike

@janiisimiike/@imiikenough (she/they)

Secret Barbie girly(live action and animated movies)

Will go straight for Ryan Gosling

Feral chihuahua of the group

Hozier stan

HATES THE KARDASHIANS

Pain in Regina's ass

Anger Issues™️

Secretly loves Olivia Rodrigo

Mentally Ill friend

Emotional Drunk

Karaoke Queen

Tits girly

Leather Jacket lesbian

Getting piercings > therapy

Has a suit collection

Thrifter

Loves her friends

Dog person (secretly)

Quotes niche memes

Kinky af

Middle Child

Lesbian

Y/N Y/L/N (FC: Chrissy Costanza)

@thisbeyn/@reginaslefttit (she/he/they/it)

2/3 Terror Trio

2/2 Golden Retriever duo

Has matching fried egg tattoo with Aaron.

Co-Founder of Stuntmares

"Hi, I'm Y/N and welcome to Stuntmares" *jumps off roof into pool*

Cuts her own hair

Blooper Reel Queen

North Shore's resident stoner

AUDHD (autistic + ADHD)

Playlists range from Beethoven to ashnikko

"IT'S NOT A PHASE. IT'S A LIFESTYLE."

Demisexual

Plays electric guitar

Has slight speech impediment

Gremlin of the group

D&D Dungeon Master

ALWAYS falls asleep during movie night

Power Nap Addict™️

Insomniac

Monster Energy Drink Enthusiast (collects the cans)

Oddly good at Origami

Tweets everything she thinks

Has been banned from Fortnite and Roblox

Married to Gretchen on The Sims (regina and karen were sad)

Anger issues

✨Spicy✨ Latina (do not fuck with her people)

Matching rings with her gfs

Def had one night stand with Cady

Shane Oman

@shaneomann/@omantastic (he/him) or (dumb/hoe)

Loves Old School Rap (Biggie, Tupac, Snoop Dogg, etc.)

Hates Y/N at first but comes to love her like a sister.

Only person who can outsmoke Y/N.

Has a dropped truck with red LED lights under it.

Blasts music walking down the halls.

Always has the zoomies.

Orange cat friend.

Has elevator music playing in his head 24/7.

Challenged Damian to a dance off. (He lost. But he had girls simping over him)

Posts thirst traps on TikTok. (Regina's mom is his #1 follower)

Has a frying pan tattooed to match Aaron and Y/N.

Always on Stuntmares trying to create new world records.

Or eating a bunch of weird combos.

"Oman! Not again!" *proceeds to eat a marshmallow and spam sandwich*

Ralph Lauren man

Whenever the polycule argues, he's a "fuck this shit, I'm out" person.

Professional party crasher

Dine and Dash expert

Has nipple piercings (Aaron and Y/N dared him to get them)

Curses like a fucking sailor (Half of his lines on Stuntmares are just censor beeps)

Talks way too fast.

Knows Italian and Spanish (Him and Y/N talk shit in Spanish)

His ringtone for Aaron and Y/N is the remix of the Windows error sound

Loves t-shirts with offensive prints (Regina tries to make him dress normally)

Has gc with Aaron and Y/N called "Hoemies"

Would fuck Aaron

TICKLISH

Major gossip (Him and Gretchen meet once a week to talk shit)

[thesharktanksdriver]

Man, Reader after Bonbon's ability and turning them into a teen sounds like a super interesting idea.

I imagine reader would be pretty much the same but taller, edgier and has quite a temper (duo to puberty, those suck asf)

Tho, what if they turned into a full adult?

nsert me drawing reader in their adult years

- They would be THE SAME like, even without the appearance of an adult, they're pretty much already an adult in terms of knowledge, experience, etc... and their years of suffering. They're a geezer :(

- I like to think that they would be alot taller than almost everyone in the strawhats, the wise look on their face (majestic as hell, hell yes), longer hair and they still have the same spark and bright star in their eyes (with eye bags below)

- I want to see everyone's reaction oml. Since they're used to see reader being a small, old, silly little star, who plays their ukulele occasionally, having the height of a damn tree

- some would be like "Cool, you look wiser and taller now" and some would outright go "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU, WHAT DID YOU DO TO (READER)!?!?!?!?1?1!1?1!11!?3?2!1!2?1!"

BONUS :

- Shanks used to be happy that reader is smaller than him (secretly or not, he prob teased them alot abt it) he can easily pick them up like a small teddy bear. and now... Seeing reader being taller than him? Damn... He would still carry them tho

- For Buggy, he does not care, he is still bigger, taller, because his "body" is now this big freaking blanket or smth, so even if reader is taller, he would just stretch his body or smth-

- Luffy and Zoro would see them as a STRANGER, imagine just chilling then this person, wearing the same clothes as their nakama (and adopted sibling), looking wiser and mature just go "Yo guys, wanna hear my new song" holding a ukulele. The same reaction just like when Monosuke became adult basically but Luffy would go "THATS SO COOL YOU LOOK SO DIFFERENT"

Everyone’s reactions would be pretty funny ngl

I think one interesting thing tho for y/n as an adult would be that their very weathered looking if that makes sense.

Their still a young adult but they have a lot of scars, ones that shine like gold and their face has an almost always tired look to it. Soft rounded features are sharpened, Their exhausted and there isn’t the youthful energy compared to their kid form.

They now better feel the ache and wear in their joints, their hands are tough and leathery compared to the softness of being a child and their eyes if you look long enough you can see the night sky.

Another thing as well is that their thin, looks like them essentially starving themselves for long periods of time and having the bare minimum would have an impact on their future (if would actually age). Sanji is meanwhile freaking out and forcing them to sit down as he makes them something.

What was once something they were all interested in seeing made the sad reality of y/n kinda hit them. The only time they’ll ever experience being an adult is paired with the pain and suffering of their long long existence.

[bratzforchris]

Hiiiii I saw your post on autistic Luke and I loved it. You made me feel seen. Can you do a part 2 or Luke with an autistic girlfriend headcanons? Thank you sm 💓

Loving Luke (Part 2)

thank you for the sweet request anon! i'll add a part 2 to the luke headcanons, but i'm going to do luke with an autistic s/o headcanons for my own writing too hehe :) you can read part 1 here

❊luke adores legos, but not the typical "builds a 16,000 piece lego set in a day because he's autistic" sets. he enjoys the lego flowers and paintings the most

❊has a very strong connection with animals. any time you go on a walk together, luke always finds a squirrel or a little bird to make friends with. sometimes, he'll even carry some bread crumbs or seeds for the animals with him

❊despises doing dishes. the feeling of wet food, the sounds of glasses hitting each other, and the water changing temperature overstimulates him

❊is extremely artistic. not just in music, but he loves to doodle on everything. oftentimes, he'll draw on his hands when he's bored and needs some stimulation

❊is a tippy toe walker because sometimes his whole foot on the floor is just too much. the only downside to this is that it makes him even more prone to hitting his head on doorways

❊like many autistic people, luke does not fall into traditional gender roles. he enjoys experimenting with clothing, makeup, and accessories that may not always be "masculine"

❊hates microfiber cloths so much

❊has a stuffed dog with thinning fabric on its ears because he rubs the fabric between his thumb and forefinger as he tries to sleep

❊likes to "parallel play" with you. it helps him work when you're sitting in the same room, but working on your own tasks

❊like many musicians, luke stims with his guitar. he'll pluck from the low e string to the high e string and back again

❊has a large vocabulary (have you HEARD wfttwtaf??) and enjoys learning new words

❊very obsessed with time keeping and routines. they help him function and think clearer

❊protective over his possessions. he softly tells you he has boundary when you first start dating and that boundary is please don't touch his guitars or piano without asking first

❊the first time luke ever spoke, it wasn't a word, it was a sentence. he was 4 and it was to correct someone on calling a ukulele a guitar

❊even as a grownup, he loves to swing. it gives him some good vestibular stimulation

❊making his coffee is one of luke's biggest coping mechanisms. it's not even consuming the drink, it's the act of picking a mug, pouring the perfect amount of coffee/sugar/cream, and stirring it that soothes him.

❊luke has an extremely strong moral compass. he is not good at lying and gets very sad when he experiences injustices against himself or others

❊prefers to listen, rather than talk. luke's favorite way to unwind at the end of a long day is to cuddle in bed with you and listen to you talk about your day

that's all for now<3 i'm so thankful for the positive feedback i've gotten on these little headcanons :)

[unknownarmageddon]

so having akross brainrot, but i'm particularly exhausted rn so it will be slightly more incomprehensible than normal, but i had a thought last night while i was yet again ruining my sleep schedule

so

i thought about cross finding a guitar store.

and cross, in all my headcanons and everything forever, is like, totally an acoustic guitar kinda dude, like. he is made to hold an acoustic and rest it on his knee and sit hunched over it, staying up all night tryina make up little tunes and shit, and they're so basic because he doesn't know the first thing about playing guitars, but he just liked the concept so much that he just nabbed an acoustic and played that bitch like a moron [he gets better at it but man]

ANYWAYS.

applying the same shit to armageddon cross, i really like to think that cross wanted to be or maybe even WAS a guitar player before the otherness came [/ref]

but, now that it's all about survival, there's just music shops and shit all over the place with a lot of pristine, untouched guitars because the only use they had once the world ended were to be either kindle for fire or scraps torn apart for materials [usually the wires/strings]

and a guitar is too bulky to lug around when you have to stay on the move; the case is heavy, you need stuff to take care of it, etc, etc

so i really wanna think cross walks around with just. that distant memory of a thought tucked in the back of his mind, all but forgotten by now, and it's about his interest in music, though it's just decaying now, along with the other parts of himself that he sacrificed in order to survive

but imagine, one day, killer is the one to take an interest in the one of those stores, but it's mostly for scavenging, and he brings one of the like, finest acoustic guitars cross has ever seen [considering the time they live in], and he's like "i think this could be broken down into some handy bits!"

and cross just

"NO- I mean- Y-yeah, sure, just uh. Give it here, I'll." He frets for a moment before taking the guitar from Killer, "I'll do it."

and he in fact, does not break the guitar, and instead just plays with it while killer runs off to find more stuff to bring back to their current camp for supplies or whatever

and killer like, comes back to cross trying to play out a tune that he remembers hearing on tv, and killer just kinda like, stops just outside of cross's bubble of awareness and watches cross, who is obviously at ease and very enthralled with the guitar, and killer is like. damn. cross is a guitar dude.

and then killer proceeds to subtly hint at them keeping the guitar, after spooking cross with his sudden appearance, and later on, when they crawl into their sleeping bags and curl up and stuff, killer just like, cuddles up to cross and goes "So. Guitars huh?"

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Does that mean you dont like the guitar?"

"...I don't."

"...........You do."

"No, I don't."

"Dude, I'm not blind-"

"We don't need it-"

"But you want it, so keep it."

and it kinda goes back and forth until cross is like. firmly just, against it completely, and then killer just like, asks, "What if i want it?"

and cross just goes reeeall quiet because he doesn't know at all what to say back, and his argument is already losing ground because, fuck, killer turned his logic against him, yet again, like he always seems to be able to do when cross is trying to avoid spoiling himself with treats and comforts like he always tries to spoil killer with

and in the end, cross ends up with a ukelele, which meets his requirements of 'easy to carry' and meets killer's insistent demand of 'bro, just fucking get yourself something nice for once, dumbass.'

anyways that is all collapses and dies

Shaking you shaking you shaking you shaking you shaking you shaking

AUGH WAWAWA

Obsessed with this actually like I love this so much holy shit

Imaging them like. Settling around a fire in the evenings and occasionally Cross’ll whip out the ukulele and play something for them for a while. Not too frequently or for too long cause it’d undoubtedly bring unwanted attention to themselves but. Sometimes

And maybe Killer starts getting interested cause it’s the first real pleasant distraction they’ve had in a while. So maybe Cross noticed his interest and attempts to get Killer to play it and like teaching him stuff.

Maybe with the reasoning of like. “You made me keep it you should at least learn how to play” or something idk. Anyway I am very normal about this actually you’re so right about everything here fuck man /pos

@denieatsart get over here man look at this

[glisteningreverie]

Since you asked me about it it’s only fair I give you full reign to ramble about your ocs

HECK YEAH OC RAMBLE TIME WITH GEM

Recently had a dream about a bunch of animals in a band that had to save the world, and so these OCs are a product of that. Don't know if I'm going all in with the concept yet but the idea captivated me enough to motivate me to draw them :D

March O'Hare

March is a guitarist in the band Stellar Twist, who finds herself wrapped up in the world of stars and magic when she comes across a mysterious girl from space. Making use of super powered instruments, March and her bandmates have been tasked with tracking down the missing Musical Stars before the Void Symphony can get their claws on them!

March is enthusiastic and does her best to keep the mood up in whatever room she's in. She tends to speak without thinking, however, and has a hard time admitting when she's wrong.

March's name is a reference to the March Hare from Alice in Wonderland, and is also the name of my Sonic OC, who is a rabbit as well.

March was the first one I drew because one of the characters I remember most distinctly from my dream was a blue rabbit :D

Frett Reynard

Frett is a laid-back guy, and the bass player in the band. He's the realist to March's dreamer tendencies, and often has to remind her not to jump headfirst into danger. Frett is down to Earth and will think carefully before he acts. He is more skeptical about magic at first, but gets a handle on it the most easily in the group.

Frett's name is pulled from the fretboard part of a guitar, referencing his main instrument, and his surname is a misspelling of "renard".

He's drawn from the other character I distinctly remember from my dream, a red fox. Since the fox and the rabbit were the characters I remembered best, I decided they'd be the two guitarists in the band.

Pepper Paisley

March's childhood best friend Pepper is Stellar Twist's keyboardist and main songwriter. She shares a love of performing with March, hence why they started the band. Pepper has connections just about everywhere, and she's friends with Timber and Mel, who she was able to convince to join the band.

Pepper is mature and even-tempered, being the one to keep the group organized and on track. Her responsibility is her superpower, and she is someone the band can rely on to be prepared for most situations.

I had real trouble coming up with Pepper's surname. I settled on Paisley because it sounds nice, and it kind of reflects the shape of the spots on her eyes.

I was also a little hard-pressed choosing the main colour for Pepper. Green might have worked but I liked it better for Timber, and a warm colour like pink doesn't really fit her personality. So, at risk of reminding people of Littlest Pet Shop, I gave her purple. Maybe I'll make the purple spots lilac or something for the sake of differentiating.

Timber Willows

On top of being Stellar Twist's drummer, Timber runs the band's official social media account. He has a hard time sitting still, and is almost always drumming out a rhythm on whatever hard surface he can find. The way Timber carries himself gives off the vibes of a tough-guy act, but really he's just kind of shy. He's highly empathetic, and can't stand to see anyone upset. He has trouble expressing it verbally, but everyone in the band knows just how much he cares, given that he's a man (cat?) of action and won't hesitate to help others out.

Timber is the reason I found out about the word "Timbre"'s pronunciation. I wanted to give him another musical name, so "Timber" is a play on that. His last name is Willows because I think I'm very funny.

Timber's got one of my favourite designs overall, his little hair puff is just so cute and I wanna ruffle it up ^o^

Mel Rapport

Mel is an upbeat, tried and true girly girl, though her love of pink and fashion leaves people dismissing her as shallow. Stellar Twist's lead singer and tambourinist also plays the ukulele in her free time. Timber's best friend is a hard worker, and is known as the girl who won't say anything bad about anyone. She comes on as sugary sweet, and tries hard to see the good in everybody. However, this dedication to looking at the bright side can easily slide into naivete: she's often loyal to a fault.

Mel is short for "Melody", because I just can't resist the music themed names apparently. Her surname, Rapport, is a reference to the fact that she's supposed to be a golden retriever.

Mel's overall look is pulled from a little dog doodle I did a while back. I just loved the look of the ears and wanted to replicate it here. Unfortunately I don't have that notebook with me, otherwise I'd be more than happy to show that doodle off.

And that's the main group!!! I do have some vague ideas for Nova, the guardian of the Musical Stars, as well as the Void Symphony, but nothing I like enough to actually motivate me to draw designs for yet.

This has been OC Ramble Time with Gem. Tune in next time someone decides to ask about my OCs (in who knows how long).

[naavispider]

Chapter 19 💙

He could barely wait to get the ukulele back to camp. He didn't address Quaritch as he and Wainfleet returned, but Quaritch noticed the instrument and shot Wainfleet a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

Wainfleet's returning gaze said, 'I know, don't ask.'

Spider jumped over the packs and immediately set about trying to tune the strings - no easy feat out in the forest with no reference point.

One of Spider's few passions was playing the guitar. For as long as he could remember he'd always been trying to strum a tune on the old battered one that lived in the shack, much to the disinterest of the science guys. He'd never say so, but he was pretty decent. One time, Jake had come by the shack and stuck around chatting for a bit with Norm and Max. Spider had of course wanted to be there too, so he bought the guitar into the avatar room to strum in the background. Jake had heard and demanded excitedly that Spider play a song. He'd been so happy to be asked to play something. No one ever really asked, and Spider never really cared.

Jake's eyes lit up as he recognised the song - it was one Spider had found on the extensive library on his tablet, downloaded from Earth.

The grin that spread across Jake's face filled Spider with pride. It was like sunlight filling him up. He couldn't help himself as he grinned back, lazily singing the lyrics and laughing as Jake tried to join in. Norm had no clue but laughed along with them at Jake's terrible singing and Spider's infectious happiness.

Since then, Jake had insisted that Spider play him more of his repertoire, and Spider played for him every time he visited. He even took his guitar to High Camp one time and played for a group of Na'vi kids during a clan party. He'd worked for ages on the translation, but then they found out he could do the English version too and demanded he do that one as well.

Spider smiled as he recalled their starry eyed faces. The guitar had become his thing. The clan had their organ and flutes, which Spider had always felt too other to try and learn. Too much of an outsider. It was a cultural thing that he never had been invited into, but the guitar - that he could do.

Some of his favourite memories growing up had been of Jake visiting and showing him some of his favourite Earth music, recommending songs for Spider to learn.

Those days were gone now.

Spider strummed the G string experimentally. It sounded roughly right, so he moved onto the C string. The ukulele only had four strings, compared to the six he was used to, but he knew the theory.

His fingers formed a rough G chord around the fretboard, which definitely didn't equate to a G on uke, but was still something he could work with. Deciding to work backwards, he hummed the starting C of Tiny Dancer, trying to arrange his fingers into somewhat of a C on a four stringed fret. He found it. He thumbed around for an F next and carried on noodling until his fingers started to ache. It felt so good, for the time being, to just be distracted from everything.

*****

Quaritch watched in astonishment as Spider improvised cautiously to himself, completely enraptured in his new found hobby. He had no idea the boy could play - let alone sing - but it was clear Spider was skilled.

Quaritch didn't recognise the tune as he sat back against the tree. He shared a glance with Wainfleet, who Quaritch knew had been trying with Spider. Fondness for his right hand man swelled in his chest. Wainfleet came over.

"We should move on," he murmured in a low voice, joining Quaritch in watching the boy.

"No. We make camp here again tonight. There's no rush."

Wainfleet was quiet. Perhaps he was wondering why Quaritch was being so soft.

"What is it?" Quaritch asked.

"Nothing Colonel."

"Lyle," Quaritch pressed. "Speak your mind."

"I know he means a lot to you boss. But he knows where the insurgency is. Shouldn't we... use that?"

Quaritch nodded. "I know he does Lyle. But easy does it. He's been through enough."

"That's not what I mean. He's not gonna be any help if he still feels like a prisoner."

Oh. Quaritch was surprised to hear Wainfleet begin to speak of Spider as an ally - as someone they should be affording more time and energy to. What had bought this on? "What are you suggesting?"

"He needs to feel understood. He needs to know we'd have his back and that we can be more helpful to him than Jake Sully."

Quaritch frowned. "That's my game plan."

"And I just wanted to say, I got your back boss. Whatever you need."

Quaritch clapped a hand to his Corporel's back appreciatively. No spoken words of thanks were necessary. The men sat and watched Spider for a few moments more before Quaritch sighed and heaved himself up to sweep the perimeter again.

*****

Savine lay with her hands in Mansk's hair, where they had been playing for the last couple of hours.

Mansk made an appreciative noise as he moved closer, closing his eyes and getting more comfortable.

Budget Tarzan had been playing the guitar for what felt like ages, suddenly seemingly back to normal after his complete meltdown of the previous night. At first the noise was grating, but he had steadily improved.

"Hey kid, you take requests?"

BT replied with the middle finger, and Savine laughed. Mansk opened his eyes and joined in the banter.

"Make it stop!" he wailed sarcastically, not loud enough to be properly aimed at Spider.

Savine bought her head down to Mansk's and smiled into the kiss she placed on his forehead. "Shh, I'll take this over what we had last night."

"Oh yes, that was entertaining! What was it? 'Lizard-lip tramp face' was my favourite."

Savine grinned again. "Asshole," she reprimanded him lovingly. "Didn't you grow up in like, a hut?" Savine called over to Spider.

Spider rolled his eyes.

"Where d'you learn to play?"

"Taught myself, wanker."

"Pfft!" she huffed. "You know I already carry your extra gas, I am not strapping that thing on as well," she warned, nodding at the ukulele.

"I never asked you to carry that shit, dickhead." Spider paused playing to look at her properly. "Now do you mind leaving me alone?" he added an over-the-top sarcastic smile for effect.

"Yeah, yeah," she rebuffed, returning to Mansk's hair and rolling him over.

******

Time seemed to fly by and by the time Spider had nailed a decent version of both Tiny Dancer and Jolene, the recoms were rumbling about dinner.

"Same shit, different day," Savine was moaning while holding up an avatar bar with a disgusted look on her face.

"Hey, get off your ass and find something different then," Fike grinned jokingly, motioning to the abundant fauna surrounding them.

"Hmm," Savine replied unsurely.

Wainfleet dug out a piece of tech and tossed it to Savine. "Bio scanner - get going."

"Yeah, get going Lizard-lip tramp face" Mansk chided.

Savine grimaced but took to the bushes, searching for edibles. It was the first time Spider had seen any of the recoms forage for food. He watched her hopelessly scan every plant she came across. He rolled his eyes; there was banana fruit hanging 15 feet or so above them.

She wasn't seeing it.

He laid down the ukulele and got up, leaping onto the lower branches of the tree to get up to the height of the fruits.

"Hey!" he called down, surprising Savine, Mansk and Wainfleet, who all turned up to locate the source of the noise. "Up here, losers!"

He grabbed the football sized fruit with both of his hands, trying to keep his balance on the branch, and tugged it free. Fike was resting under a tree a few feet away. Spider saw his chance.

He lobbed the fruit straight into the back of his head, smirking when it hit its target with a satisfying squelch.

Fike immediately jumped up as Mansk roared with laughter.

"Asshole!" Fike shouted up, though the twitch of his lips betrayed his sense of humour.

"It's called utumauti, bitch!"

Spider plucked the rest of the bunch of the fruits and threw them carefully to Mansk's waiting hands. He leapt down gracefully and expertly dodged Fike's lunge for him, scampering away up into another tree until the coast was clear.

"Banana fruit," he could hear Savine mumble as she scanned the fruit with the bioscanner. The recoms sat down and started to dig in, so Spider grabbed a specimen for himself and joined them. Banana fruit was one of the few plant species on Pandora that wasn't toxic to humans.

He sat down a few feet away from the group of avatars, keeping his distance but part of the group nonetheless.

He remembered a time not long ago when he had fantasised about poisoning them all with a Fibonacci plant. Why was everything so different now? That had been barely 12 hours ago.

He took a deep breath before shoving the fruit into his mouth. The familiar wash of flavour filled his senses - it tasted sweet and sour at the same time, and the juices dripped deliciously around his mouth. He wiped the mess away eagerly, replacing his mask once the fruit was finished completely.

He only noticed Quaritch and Wainfleet were missing when they returned. They emerged from the bushes talking amicably, and Spider idly wandered what had caused this unusual display of friendliness. Then he saw what Quaritch was carrying. In one hand he grasped his AR, in the other was a large, round, blue berry.

A Yovo berry.

Spider's eyes widened as he realised what Quaritch had been out looking for, and he found himself holding his breath as the recom took a seat next to him. Quaritch sighed heavily before weighing his next words.

"This the right one, right?"

He didn't know what to say. His voice was thick. "Yeah," he just replied.

Quaritch held the berry out to him.

Slowly, Spider took it, wander written all over his face.

"Why d'you get this?"

Quaritch frowned. "You're better with your stripes. You look a little limp without them."

And there it was.

Spider broke open the top of the berry and dipped his fingers into the juice. Over the next few minutes he repainted himself back to his natural state, and with each stripe he felt his confidence return, as if he was growing somehow taller.

"Looking better already!" Quaritch remarked, watching him from the side. "Need a little help there?" he asked, noticing Spider stretching to reach behind his back.

Spider turned, the better to stare at Quaritch. No... he didn't mean...?

He felt fairly sure that Quaritch's intentions were good, but he couldn't imagine those huge, cold hands on his bare skin. Not after they had rugby tackled him, pinned him down, forced his body to submit...

He wouldn't allow it. He repressed a shiver. "Fuck off," he said, though not angrily.

Quaritch sent a smile his way. "Well the offer was there, kid. If you change your mind."

"Sure, thanks," Spider replied, tone laden with sarcasm despite the awkwardness of the conversation.

To breeze over the sticky moment, he stood up suddenly, discarding the empty berry, and crossed to the centre of the circle of recoms, trying to repress his self consciousness about the incomplete stripes on his back.

He picked up the ukulele again, and started to noodle a tune that Jake had recommended once.

He didn't realise it, but as dusk began to fall once more over the camp, the avatars' voices around him quietened, until the only noise came from the 4 strings in Spider's hand, and Spider's soft lyrics.

[djarintreble]

my two favorite girls || e.munson

pairing: dad!Eddie x fem!reader

warnings/tags: the full domestication of Eddie Munson, vol2 didn't happen because I said so, vol2 spoilers/changes, Eddie was meant to be a girl dad, trauma flashbacks, straight fluff omg, this was fully inspired by this tik tok

a/n: yeah I'm definitely making this a little series of one shots. I couldn't help what I chose as Eddie's daughters name. I've always loved this name myself so I had to. self indulgent im sorry. leave any dad!Eddie hc below and ill write some more drabbles cause I'm a sucker for paternal comfort characters.

—

“Do you want to hear the song that saved the world?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide and the biggest grin was plastered on his face.

“Here we go again.” You jokingly rolled your eyes, folding laundry on the couch. You had one leg pulled up underneath you and the other laid against the play mat.

“Your dad played the most metal concert in the history of metal concerts and saved the beautiful princess from the dragon.” He continued on. He lifted his arms in the air to imitate a dragon and looked up at you to signify that you were in fact the said princess.

Little Arwen didn’t understand the context as she was only over a year old but she loved when her daddy told her stories. His years of being a dungeon master equipped him to be a girl dad. She was Eddie made over and would always smile and giggle loudly along with her dad’s antics. You would joke how annoyed you were that you carried her for nine months just for her to be his carbon copy but really you loved that she got his beautiful wavy curls and bright brown eyes. As she grew, she began to have his personality as well, something you both hoped wouldn't get harder with age.

“With a little song that goes like-“ Eddie grabbed her small pink ukulele, making sure it was as tuned as it could be for a toy, and began to play the familiar riff. The toy ukulele made the metal song sound so silly, contradicting Eddie's complete serious face. He was head banging to the sound of a toy instrument playing Master of Puppets when his own guitar was literally three feet away from him. You couldn't hold back your laugh as Arwen threw her hands in the air and babbled along with Eddie when he began to softly sing the lyrics. It was like she was determined to sing with him despite being too stubborn to say her first word yet. When he imitated the drums, he put his face right up against Arwen’s who instinctively grabbed onto his face as he continued playing. Eddie's drum sounds, babbles and giggles filled the room.

“She loves you, Eds.” Your heart was full at the scene that played before you.

Eddie mentioning the events that happened a few years ago brought a familiar sting to your chest. You don’t always reflect on it as it does nothing but bring up the trauma but as he told the tale of the upside down in a way that sounded like a fairytale to your daughter, you couldn’t help it. You remember not knowing if Eddie would survive.

That was when he proposed.

“When we get out of this mess-“ he was interrupted by a series of coughs, caused by the huge gash on his throat. You applied more pressure to the wounds you couldn’t wrap yet. “Let’s get out of here. Start a new life. I’ll get you a ring to make it official and we’ll get jobs and a house. Have a kid or two.”

“Is this your way of proposing, Munson?”

“Maybe” He smiled. You couldn’t help but laugh in the mix of your tears. Here he was, on his deathbed, proposing to you.

“That means you better fight to stay alive then. You’re not giving up on me that easily.” You clutched onto his puffer vest, attempting to sit him up more in your lap.

“Is that a yes?” He mumbled, his eyebrows bunched up in question.

“Of course, Eddie. I will always say yes.”

“Good.” He smiled, content with your answer. “I love you, sweetheart. From the moment I laid eyes on you.” He raised a hand to your cheek and brushed the soft skin with his thumb, admiring you and holding onto this moment in case he didn’t have anymore.

“Y/N!” You heard Dustin yelling your name.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N I’m coming!”

“Henderson, help!” You yelled back, you needed all the support to help get Eddie back through to Hawkins where he could be tended to.

“Y/N-“

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Eddie brought you back to reality as he crawled over to the couch between your legs. He recognized the zoned out face and it broke his heart to realize that he may have brought you back to that moment when talking to Arwen. He cupped your face and brushed your cheek like he did that same night except this time, with clean, healed hands. “I’m here, We’re here. We’re okay.” He smiled. You looked at him him with a smile of relief.

“Y-yes. It just comes back sometimes. But yes, I’m okay.”

He took your wrists in his hands and helped pull you away from the laundry and onto the floor. He sat against the couch and embraced you between his legs now and you motioned Arwen to come sit in your lap as your little family cuddled together on the floor. She clumsily made her way over as she was still getting the hang of crawling. You both praised her as she smiled in your arms. You laid your head back on Eddie’s chest as he made silly faces at your daughter to make her laugh.

“My two favorite girls.” Eddie whispered, sitting his chin on your head. He wrapped his arms around you to reach over and ruffle Arwens curly brown hair.

You took a deep breath and smiled. It was moments like this that kept you grounded. Things really were okay. You and Eddie were living the life you dreamed of years ago when you were merely teenagers in a small town.

You brushed over a faded scar on Eddie’s arm before turning back to face him, Arwen still in your lap. He raised his eyebrows.

“I love you.” You whispered. His face softened at the sentiment.

“I love you too, sweetheart. From the moment I laid eyes on you.” He gave you a quick kiss that was interrupted by Arwen who crawled in-between you two. She did not like being left out and begged for both of your attention.

“I love you too, my beautiful beautiful Ari. You’re my saving grace.” He pressed his forehead against hers and you noticed they both scrunched up their noses revealing a parallel image that made your heart melt even more.

One day, you and Eddie could tell her the real tale of Hawkins and the upside down. How her parents met, how they almost lost one another and how they promised to never leave each other’s side. But for now, you were holding onto to any and all small moments like these because you know you’re never promised tomorrow.

[runawaymun]

I have this really dumb idea for Glorfindel. So a reader who plays the violin and violins aren't really common to elves so Glorfindel takes a bit interest in her. Idk its just something random I thought of.

Glorfindel x Fem!Reader - Harmonics

genre: romance warnings: tooth-rotting fluff for: @armin-ocean-eyes reader pronouns: she/her

Traveling musicians are always welcome in Rivendell. Whenever you pass by the Hidden Valley, you make it a point to stop there to rest and resupply. Lord Elrond is more than happy to receive you and all that anyone ever asks in return is a few songs. 

You, especially, are a favorite guest-- by virtue of your instrument alone. Elves are no strangers to stringed instruments, but they favor harps, lyres, guitars, and ukuleles --the kinds of instruments meant to accompany a singer-- over violins.

This time when you play in the Hall of Fire after the evening meal, you notice an unfamiliar face in the back of the crowd. He’s impossible to miss, mostly just because he glows like sunlight lives beneath his skin, and his hair is the color of gold.

When the moon reaches its zenith, you’ve run out of songs to play, your callouses hurt, and you’re starting to feel a little sleepy. The elves are sad to see you stop, but Lindir takes your place and soon the entire hall is enthralled by his harp and silvery-sweet voice. 

You step out to the terrace, put your bow away, and take a seat on one of the benches beneath the stars to clean the rosin dust from the tiger-striped wood of your violin. After a time, a pair of catlike footsteps comes up and stops next to you, and when you look up it’s that elf with the golden hair. He wears a circlet and cream-colored robes with a wide purple sash. He’s clearly someone important. You’re surprised you’ve never seen him before. 

“Well met,” he says. His voice is soft but carries, warm and bright. 

“Well met,” you return, surprised. “I am sorry, my lord, I do not know your name.”

“I am called Glorfindel,” he returns with a smile. “And you?” 

You tell him your name. He repeats it to himself in a concerted effort to remember it, and then says: “I want to compliment you on your music. It was extraordinary.” 

“Thank you.” You feel your face heat at the compliment. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but he’s so earnest about it to the point of gushing. 

“You have been to Imladris before? You seem quite popular.” 

You shrug. “A few times, yes.” 

“I must confess I am surprised to never have met you. I think I would remember. How does it work?” he asks. 

You cock your head. “My lord?”

“Your instrument?” 

“Oh!” You look down at the violin in your hands and then back up at him. “Have you--” you bite your tongue, afraid it’s a rude question. Then, shyly, you go on to ask: “Have you never seen one? Really?” 

“I have,” he laughs, “But never so close as this.”

His laughter warms you through. There’s nothing unkind about it. It’s pure and sounds almost like music. You scoot over on the bench so he has room to sit next to you. 

“It is...a little like a guitar in construction, I suppose. When you break it down to its most basic parts,” you say. He leans over to look at the violin in unadulterated fascination. You tap the body, showing him how it makes a hollow sound, and trace the f-holes. “When the strings vibrate, the body amplifies it. There is a post inside and the quality of the music will be greatly affected by where it is placed.”

“There are no frets,” he murmurs, tracing one of the strings with the tip of his finger.

“No,” you say. “You learn where to place your finger by memory. It is very exact. If you’re a little bit off, your note will be out of tune. It isn’t a very forgiving instrument.”

“Then you must have great skill to play it so well.”

Again, the compliment is so utterly sincere that it catches you off guard. It’s then that you realize how very close the two of you are, how very close his face is to yours. You look up at him. He isn’t looking at the violin.

As soon as you lock eyes, he flushes to the tips of his ears and looks away. 

“I apologize.”

“Do not,” you say. “I must admit I-- I am flattered, my lord.”

“Glorfindel,” he corrects.

The corners of your mouth turn up. “Glorfindel.”

“How much longer will you stay in Imladris?”

“Well, I was planning on leaving the day after tomorrow--”

“--might I convince you to stay a little longer?” he asks.

“Very well. The day after tomorrow, plus a minute longer.”

He barks another laugh and shakes his head. “Longer even that that.”

“Oh, two minutes?” 

“Ai! No!” He is laughing still. You think you could keep teasing him forever, if only to hear it. 

“Then tell me, how much longer were you thinking?” You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You must be more specific.”

“There will be a comet five days hence. It comes every few hundred years and the best view is from that peak--” he points to a mountain in the middle distance, near the Northeast section of the Valley. “Would you watch it with me?”

You stand to tuck your violin safely back inside its case and shoot him a smile. 

“I would love to.” 

[dapandapod]

When you kiss me heaven sighs

As might have been noticed, I have been listening to this version of La vie en Rose for days. On loop.

So naturally Geralt has to propose. That is how it works. Also don’t look too closely at the french, because I literally google translated it, copy paste and done. shhhh don’t tell :)

Please enjoy a sappy panda mood again <3 On Ao3 here

Out of the two of them, Jaskier is the musician. Rather obviously so, as they actually met the first time on a street corner where Jaskier was singing his heart out and Geralt was unable to tear his eyes away. That first time, it was a guitar, the next a flute, lute, and a loop pedal. 

His eyes were twinkling, his smile warm and inviting, and Geralt was completely smitten. Is completely smitten.

Years later, after a tentative friendship filled with pining and then finally that first, desperate kiss, Geralt is still smitten. If possible, more so than all those years ago.

They live together now in a sunny flat on the third floor. Their upstairs neighbours are loud with children running and parents screaming and the street below is always filled with honking cars and road work. They talk of moving somewhere bigger. Somewhere possibly theirs.

And all the while, Geralt carries a secret. Because, after talking to his brothers about it, he realizes Jaskier is all he wants in life, always and forever. The secret is a little black velvet box. A box his adoptive father and brothers too carried until they were ready, and now rests with a new charge. 

As they look for a new home, hoping to find an apartment on the top floor, or possibly a house, Geralt takes time hiding away, preparing. As they pack away their belongings, plan and make bids, Geralt asks for his darling Ciri’s advice.

On the eve they have moved into their small house, their very own little corner of the world, Geralt can’t wait anymore. They're sitting on the floor, leaning against cardboard boxes and eating pizza, when Geralt caves.

There is one box he has kept an extra eye on, the one with the ukulele. He digs it out while Jaskier watches him curiously, a bit of cheese clinging to his chin. Sitting down, he strums it, tries out a few chords. He doesn’t look at Jaskier as he does this, but he senses the growing surprise.

His heart is in his throat when Jaskier draws a breath as the strumming turns into a song.

“Geralt,” he whispers, putting the pizza down, finally wiping his chin, and Geralt smiles.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras Il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça me fait quelque chose”

Jaskier blushes so prettily. His lips are parted, eyes filled with something warm and gentle, and his hands are clenching his dirty sweatpants. He is beautiful, and Geralt’s heart skips a beat.

"Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie"

Geralt sings, finally meeting Jaskier’s eyes. His fingers feel clumsy, the strings vibrating under his grip, and he licks his lips before the next part.

Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is "La vie en rose" When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see "La vie en rose”

When you press me to your heart I'm in a world apart A world where roses bloom And when you speak, angels sing from above Everyday words seem to turn into love songs"

 This is it. There is a storm of emotions, an onslaught from all sides. Hope, longing, comfort, worry, and so, so much love. 

 "Give your heart and soul to me And life will always be "La vie en rose"

  The last note of the ukulele rings out, and for a moment, there is silence. Geralt puts the instrument on top of a box, heart beating like a sledgehammer.

“That was beautiful,” Jaskier whispers. He curls up against his shoulder when Geralt sits down next to him again. “I didn’t know you played the ukulele.”

“I don’t,” Geralt admits and tucks his arms around Jaskier. “I only know this one.” 

“Could have fooled me,” Jaskier says, propping up his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Fake it til’ you make it,” Geralt replies, smirking, quoting Jaskier right back at him.

“Faking French too?” Jaskier asks teasingly, leaning in for a kiss.

“Hmm.” Geralt can’t help but get distracted, lost in warm lips on his. He didn’t plan it this way, he swears he didn’t. But he has to say it somehow, right?

“ Je t'aime ,” he mumbles against Jaskier’s lips, knowing full well that he will understand it. “Veux-tu m'épouser?”

And Jaskier freezes.

“You-”

Jaskier pulls back, studying his face. Geralt gropes around in his pocket, realizing the ring isn’t there.

“Wait. Shit. Fuck.” He stands up, running to his jacket. He digs around desperately in the hallway. Jaskier sits quietly on the kitchen floor. He is never quiet.

“Geralt,” he calls after a few minutes, and Geralt panics. “It’s here.”

Fuck. This is not going as planned at all.

Geralt returns, sweaty and nervous. He stands in the doorway watching Jaskier hold the black satin box in his hands. It must have fallen out of his pocket, but at least it wasn’t in the moving truck.

Jaskier looks up at him, eyes misty.

“Is this the same box Lambert used?”

“And Eskel. And Vesemir,” Geralt confirms. He approaches Jaskier, his little bard, his light, his everything, and kneels in front of him, taking Jaskier's hands in his.

“You are the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” Geralt repeats, now in English, his voice a little hoarse and cracked. He opens the box and reveals a silver ring

The tears finally overflow, Jaskier pushing the little box away and sniffling. For a heartbeat, just one heartbeat, Geralt fears rejection. But in the next, Jaskier has flung himself around his neck, pretty much crawled up in his lap, hugging him as tight as he can.

“You romantic sap, never accuse me of being soft again,” he sobs.

“You are soft,” Geralt murmurs, his arms coming up to hold him. “Is that a yes?”

Again Jaskier leans back, his eyes are red rimmed and well. Soft.

“I am yours, Geralt Rivia. I have been from the moment I saw you and will be until I draw my last breath. You will never get rid of me.”

“So yes,” Geralt says, smile growing, heart so light he could fly.

“Yes, you fucking imbecile, yes, I will marry you!”

  There is more kissing after that, and some more crying. The pizza lies forgotten on the floor as Geralt puts the ring on Jaskier’s finger. He knows the size perfectly, he has bought many rings for his Jaskier, but this is the one that counts.

   At their wedding they have the band play their song. Jaskier insists that Geralt did it better, but they had a trumpet, and that is hard to beat. They dance cheek to cheek, so close Geralt can feel the heat of Jaskier’s skin and smell the champagne on his breath.

“When you kiss me, heaven sighs, And though I close my eyes, I see "La vie en rose” 

[simonalkenmayer]

Does the Millennial have any artistic skill? Whippin out the Ukulele or drawing a friendly portrait were all par for the course when I went to college—

The Millennial has a singular, most exceptional talent, and at first, the Count did not see it quite so well. He had presumed that the Millennial was simply gifted in everything and that their knowledge was so vast, that of course they had done everything at some point or another. But as time went on, and their friendship flowered, as the Count was able to see the Millennial in more intimate moments away from others, he began to understand precisely what the talent actually was.

The Millennial was a constant flux of adaptation. There was not a setting that seemed to make them feel flustered or out of place. Dignitaries, the King, even emissaries of the church--nothing discomfited them. There was no ritual or habit they didn't immediately observe and duplicate, and when it came to artistic endeavors or crafts, always, whenever being shown something, they would nod thoughtfully, make some comment about how the process was similar to something else, give it a try, and then immediately acquire the skill. Perhaps not perfectly, but well enough to impress everyone looking on. It was enchanting and astounding to behold. From playing the lute, to dance steps, to weaving, it didn't matter. The Millennial seemed to pick it up with remarkable speed. The wood workers building a new stable on his estate were plagued daily by the Millennial, whose grasp of shapes and angles was legendary. With a stick and fresh soil, the Millennial would plant strange figures and till the earth in shapes and calculations, then they'd raise their head with a smile and declare whether or not something was correct and would stand the test of time. The Smith got daily visits too, as the Millennial looked on at each strike of the hammer with unwavering focus. Occasionally, they'd get to have a try, and even the Smith was surprised at their swiftness of comprehension. They had a writing tool they carried with them, and the Count had learned they were never to be allowed near his salon, for they would inevitably find some book or letter and scribble strange graffiti in the margins. To preserve his papers, he had acquired a bound volume of blank pages for them, and sometimes he would see them scratching the strange tool over it, but what was in it seemed to be a secret. Once, he had asked to see, and the Millennial, for the first time in all their acquaintance, had gone ruddy in the face. "Uhhhh. No. No. It's butt shit. You'd go blind." As he had stared at the inscrutable emotions on that strangely ageless face, trying to parse out the words and determine what they meant, the subject of his scrutiny turned redder still. "Look, Count Dude, it's private, magic, gobbledygook shit. You wouldn't get it. It wouldn't make any sense. I promise." "Dost thy calculation appear within?" "I mean yeah I write and stuff, but no, it's just stuff you wouldn't get." As he looked on, brow furrowed, the Millennial had dunked their face almost completely into a goblet of sack wine and not come up for air for some time. And so his curiosity grew. Weeks upon weeks were spent, waiting for the papal encyclical regarding the Millennial. There was of course, the business of his lands and estates, but all of that paled compared to the obsession growing within him to uncover the mysteries of the Millennial. They became his constant companion. He would take them everywhere, and above all his other advisors and secretaries, he valued their sometimes cryptic and incomprehensible opinion over all others. But always, his eye would catch on that book, tucked into the Millennial's pouch, or sticking out of their pack, or in their hand, with the writing tool folded up inside. A perfect, beautiful day could be unfolding, a horse ride beside the river, the Millennial could be gathering all the plants they liked to pick, butterflies and birds abounding, and yet, always his mind would snag on that worn spine and hold. Every time he'd tried to sneak a peak, it was as if the Millennial's senses were much agrieved and would alert them instantly. They began sitting with their back to

rocks or walls. They took to hunching over the book as if to guard its contents from all sides. Once, when they were being shown archery by one of his armsmen, the Count spotted the book lying beneath the Millennial's outer tunic, discarded to the side. Unable to resist, he'd gone over to it, and beneath the pretext of properly caring for the Millennial's items, with which they were so careless, he'd attempted to catch a glimpse. As if they were a hound being petted backward, the Millennial bristled and immediately relieved him of his burdens. He'd tried to relieve their secrets from them via wine, good humor, wagers, even deception, and it never mattered. He could not lay hands on that book. It began to weigh heavily on his thoughts. Of course the millennial had secrets and hidden motives. Of course they did. Some day, they'd move on from their time with him, to some new landscape, some new time perhaps, skipping over reality like a pebble on the water. To even contemplate that, hurt. Each day, the pain of that thought would grow. To think that to the Millennial, he was just a moment, when to him, the Millennial had changed his life--it awoke a strange distemper in his breast. He did not want to break the Millennial's trust. He did not want to breech the boundaries of their companionship. He did not want to be the sort of person that the Millennial often warned against in all their lengthy lectures on the way the world had come to be constructed in the future. He did not want to be that person. And yet it was painful, to know that there were some parts of this incredible person, he was never to be allowed to see. Every year, the Count would hunt within the woods on his estate. The hunt was always scheduled for the warm and sunny times of year, and often provided a much needed distraction from matters of state and so forth. This year, the Millennial would be along, and the entire affair would be made anew, forever changed by their delightfully meddlesome presence. The Millennial, however, didn't seem very enthused. "So you chase a fucking deer and shoot it." "That is the way of hunting, Do not the people of thy time do thusly?" "No dude, we’ve got farms and shit, and we don't shoot them." This caused him some confusion. Farms? For deer? Could it be that the Millennial had absolutely no experience with hunting? This seemed impossible. Then again, the Millennial seemed to eat hardly ever. Perhaps, in their world, food was something that wasn’t as necessary.

For days, as preparations were made, the Count found his mind spinning with imaginings he could scarcely countenance. If anyone knew his thoughts, he’d be stripped of his lands and sent to the block. Anyone but the Millennial, that was. Sometimes, of an evening, they would sit beside the fire and entertain such musings, and never once did the Millennial fail to surprise and entertain him. In fact, sometimes, they even wrote down the things he asked or invented in their book...

The book he was never allowed to read. But perhaps it was in some foreign language? Some script no man yet knew?

On the first day of the hunt, the Millennial spent most of their time at the camp. On the second day, they vanished. Disappointed to his marrow, the Count felt the spleen rising. When the party returned to the tents, and found the Millennial arranging a selection of flowers and making notations in their book, he turned on his heel and went to sulk.

It was that night when he heard the strange sound. It woke him from a sound sleep--the sound of a deer bleating. Thus far, there’d been no game, and he’d been despairing of the entire trip, but this sound renewed his hopes. Rising from his slumber, he shrugged into his clothing and grabbed a bow. Creeping through the silent camp, past his sleeping guards, and into the nearby treeline, he prayed that at last, there would be something to show for it all. Clouds swept past the moon, and in one sweep, illuminated the world, raising shadows up on all sides, and the hairs on the back of his neck.

The sound of the deer came again, from just before him, banishing his doubt. Sinking low to the ground, he secreted himself in the undergrowth and drew an arrow. Placing it to the bow, he moved aside a branch, and stared out into the clearing. The sight that met his eyes was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

The Millennial was there, and on a stump, had placed their plants. As if seated at a table, stood a fine buck, daintily tasting what was offered. The Count blinked, but the scene remained before him.

In a soft voice, the Millennial murmured to the animal, and it seemed not at all concerned. What magic...science had been used? What witchcraft of demeanor or grace of comprehension had this Millennial, to so seduce a wild creature?

“You are the best boy, yes you are. Look at you. You have fuzzy antlers, yes you do. Forbidden felt. Look at those ears...” they crooned, furiously sketching in their book. “There we go...You’re so handsome! I’ve got it all right here. Great big cinnamon roll.”

So astonished and captivated was he, that the Count forgot about the arrow and bow. He forgot about the hunt. He forgot about the world. When at last the buck had finished his repast, he gave a single bob of his head, and trotted from the clearing.

The Millennial was grinning ear to ear, and the Count could scarce believe what he had witnessed. Shaking himself free of his trance, he rose to his feet and stood open-mouthed.

As if they’d always known he was there, the Millennial ticked their head his way. “Sup, Count?”

They were so glib, so completely relaxed, and for some reason, he found it maddening. Slinging the bow over his shoulder, he stomped into the meadow and thrust his hands on his hips.

“What dost thou write?”

The Millennial’s brows rose. “You wouldn’t--”

“Be this thy grimoire? Forsooth, thou hast bewitched a wild creature. Sayest how, or for thy treachery, I shall take thee to His Grace the Bishop!”

That impish face seemed to harden, and immediately, the Count regretted his admonishment, or the passion behind it. He had questioned, and broken trust, just as he had never wished to do.

“Yeah?” the Millennial challenged, standing to their full height.

“Nay. Forgive me my distemper.” He pointed the arrow at the book clasped firmly in the decorated hand. “I do chafe at the thought that thou wouldst keep secrets from me. Do not my actions recommend me to thy favor? May I not be privy?”

At once, the face cracked into a wide grin. With a laugh and a sigh, the Millennial ran a hand through their blood red hair. “Shit bro, it’s not that deep. I’m just super embarrassed.”

The last was the only word out of which he could make any sense. When this occurred, his chosen reply was to frown. At the look on his face, the Millennial at last relented. Plucking the writing tool from the book, they split the spine. With a deep gasp of breath, they turned the book to him, and squeezed tight their eyes.

The Count could feel his features tugging and deforming into a grimace as he stared.

“It’s fugly, yeah?”

The Count swallowed and tried not to laugh, for as enchanting as the Millennial had always been to him, the revelation that they were in fact terrible at something, was somehow just as endearing.

“Thou art not an artist.”

“Don’t come for me like that, Count. I can’t take it.”

The Count poked the image with the tip of the arrow “Be that a unicorn and a pan?”

“Shut up.”

[improvapocalyps]

clingy duo

*sky AUs your clingy duo*

[hcs below]

Tommy frequents the Valley of Triumph where he freely surfs the sand and practices acrobatics, which he also does competitively at the auditorium / weekly races. He absolutely preens at the attention the audience throw at him during those times. Definitely gets addicted to gambling height potions but eventually settles on a height that's slightly taller than Tubbo so they can always do forehead bumps before going into Eden. Does he ever carry anything on his back? No, not really. You might catch him with a bell but that's it. He rings it to annoy anyone and everyone.

Tubbo vibes mostly at Prairie but he also goes to the Ark and the Vault for experiments™ and extra readings. You bet he has a secret bunker somewhere deep in the Forest. He follows Tommy wherever he goes if he has nothing better to do on his mind (Tommy also just drags him out of his bunker to hang out and cause chaos, they are a force to reckon. Most spirits are scared of them but immensely adore them.) His ukulele is made of scraps they found in the Forest and held together by itself with a blessing from the Elder. It can play all 15 notes and every flats, sharps, half-notes in-between. They always make sure to keep it in a safe place like the little cave they share in Prairie so that when they go to the Storm it wouldn't get broken as it is not made purely out of light. He will make Tommy perform to his music or play along to Tommy's whimsical sequences.

They don't really care about collecting candle lights so they always just pull full map runs last minute if the Travelling Spirit / Sleepy Boater offers something they want. Their games of Hide and Seek have also made them acutely aware of map environments and candle locations so they are always open and happy to help friends that are too tired to do runs themselves or are unfamiliar to the regions.

More often than not you'll see Tommy skiing / surfing / speeding across the ice / sand / sky with Tubbo in hand rattling off his newest invention / brainrot or playing tunes as they vibe together. Or. They are doing Mischiefs and everyone is having a headache rn like why are all my jars of butterflies unsealed again oh god i have to get them back into there for the 93th time-

[cimmunist]

I did Cimmerian, now it's time for Clef! Like before, the one on the left is my main interpretation and the one I use in mine and my friend's, @bluethepearldiver, AU Gods and Pawns. The one on the right is the @ask-dr-cimmerian version. I put a more detailed overview under the cut, feel free to skip the blog version if you don't want spoilers.

GaP/Main interpretation of Clef:

Species: Immortal human (in most of the versions of the AU)

Age: Unspecified, really fucking old

Gender/orientation: Doesn't use labels, but if I have to specify he's non-binary, on the acearo spectrum and mostly prefers men

Pronouns: Any, prefers he/they

Ethnicity/nationality: Middle eastern, comes from Eden

Job: Department Head of training and development, an O5 or field agent in some of the versions of the AU

Appearance: 5'7'' plus size man, though weight fluctuates during the story, as he forgets to eat during a lot of stress. Two eyes, right is green, left is blue and hazel. Has sharp teeth, covered in scars, the biggest one being the x shaped scar on his chest, later on, gets a snake-shaped scar carved into his right arm. Naturally black/dark brown hair that's greying, uses his reality-bending to make it blonde because he's too lazy to dye it. Always carries around a star-shaped pin.

Personality & health:

Outgoing, charming loudmouth

Lies quite a lot, likes to tell clearly exacerbated stories (people just got used to it)

Cheerful and easily excitable

A huge bastard, loves to tease his friends and coworkers

Not afraid to speak his mind when needed, can be quite abrasive

Avoids confrontation when it comes to personal matters

Doesn't get angry easily, but when he does he gets quiet and stern

Will never cry in public, usually just in private or in front of people he trusts

Struggles a lot with PTSD (which is a problem when you can literally bend reality around you) and later on depression

Relationships:

Love interests: Bright, Kondraki and Cimmerian

Exes: Lilly (abusive + a God, bad combination), Kushim (friend's oc)

Friends: Aaron/Administrator/O5-1A (work acquaintance), Joseph Tamlin (brief old friend), Etienne Baudelaire (old friend, friend's oc), Lilith (best friend), Sophia Light (close-ish work friend), Maveth (friend, oc), Dory (old friend, oc), Lucy (old friend), Raphael (old friend)

Family: Brother to Eve/O5-1B and Kineret (oc, deceased), brother-in-law to Adam, uncle to a bunch of kids including Abel/076 and Cain/073. Had a daughter, Rut, with Kushim and a daughter, Meri, with Lilly.

Trivia:

Mostly known for two things: his great distaste and disrespect to gods, and his talent to almost dying but somehow getting away still alive (lovingly called a cockroach by the grim reaper for it)

Has literally fought gods 3 different times and survived, this list keeps on growing, somebody stop this man

Favourite hobby is probably annoying the death itself

How his immortality works: after he dies his body heals and he comes back to life

Loosely followed the 4231 canon, with some big changes to fit his backstory

Deathly afraid of deep water and drowning (ironic for an immortal)

Literally considered a Saint in one of the religions? Absolutely despises that fact

Real name is Abishai, but doesn't mind going by Abby or any of his many, many nicknames

Actually physically fought Adam Bright before, wouldn't mind doing it again

Very close with his sister

His other sister, Kineret, died saving him. He has major survivor guilt over it.

Actually helped create the foundation, since his sister is the founder, but dipped almost immediately after and started working for the GOC

Rejoined many years later, in exchange for protecting Meri and letting him see her from time to time

Meri was born around the time ancient rome still existed and he was actually able to raise her, they're very close

Met Jack sometime in the 1920s-30s, he was Clef's first real friend in the Foundation

Actually the reason Kondraki got recruited

Contrary to popular belief, he can play on his ukulele very well and can write songs, he just chooses not to

Knows a lot of languages

Both a reality bender and a reality anchor, unable to be affected by other reality benders

Actually is a lot more powerful reality bender than he lets on

Got his X shaped scar on the chest from Lilly

Used to travel a lot and didn't liked to be tied to one spot

Blog version of Clef:

Species: Nephilim, half-human half-angel

Age: 98, looks ~40

Gender: Non-binary/genderqueer

Orientation: Oriented aroace/ ace demi-homoromantic

Pronouns: Any

Ethnicity/nationality: Mixed middle eastern, raised in Cornwall

Job: Liaison for the Ethics Committee

Appearance: 5'5'' plus-sized man. Has three eyes, one right green one, two left ones, one blue one hazel. Has sharp teeth, is covered in scars, the biggest one being an x shaped scar on his chest. Has burn scars on his feet. Has naturally black/dark brown hair, dyes it a lighter colour. He usually keeps his hair in a braid. Flowers grow out of his hair.

Personality & health:

The loud, annoying yet charming bastard of the ethics committee

Has generally a laid back, jokester personality

Very devoted to his family and friends

Not the type to get mad easily, when he does get angry he just gets quiet and stern

Never cries in public, just in private

Little bastard man, loves teasing his coworkers and husband

Struggles a lot with PTSD and paranoid delusions, but is slowly doing better

Relationships:

Love interests: Cimmerian, later on Bright and Iceberg

Ex: Lilly

Friends: Kondraki (old friend), Bright (old friend), Tiffany Okely (work friend)

Family: Bastard child of an angel, raised as an only child of a single mother. Had Epon with Lilly, later on, had an "accident" named Melody with his husband, adopted a step-parent role to Cimmerian's older daughters May and Eliza

Trivia:

Roughly follows the events of 4231

Raised Epon for the first few months to year's of their life before they were found to be anomalous and forcibly taken from him

Regularly checks up on his kid and leaves her small gifts

Semi-omniscient, ever since he was born he could just see and know things others couldn't. Perfectly aware of the fact Cimmerian is a demigod, even before their husband finds out himself. Uses his omniscience to check up on Epon and make sure they're okay.

Used to be very close with Bright before Cimmeriam swooped in and stole the man, slowly rebuilding that relationship

Cannot play the ukulele for the life of his and has no intentions of ever learning

Had a lot of bucket and cowboy hats but gave them all to Melody

Cimmerian made the mistake of allowing them to pick out Melody's clothes when they were little, now they have Clef's sense of style, oh no

Is afraid of water, shouting and slamming things is a major trigger of theirs, they also dislike deer and antlers for obvious reasons

Suffers from chronic scar pain in her legs

They have exactly 0 respect for any of the o5s

One of their hobbies is gardening

Pretty much majority of their scars were caused by Lilly

Alto Clef is their chosen name and god help you if you deadname them

Loves cats, they're her favourite animal

The platonic marriage with Cinmerian was their idea

Child of 001 /J

[pascalpanic]

At Last (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Summary: you, Frankie, and your fur baby go camping! Little does Frankie know what you have planned.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: flirting, innuendo, alcohol, food, language, otherwise, this is toothaching fluff!

A/N: SAMMY MY BELOVED @sanchosammy GAVE ME THIS IDEA! I hope it’s as cute as I think it is :) also, Charlie (Frankie’s pup) isn’t involved in this fic but she is still part of the fam :)

Pine trees surround you on either side, tall and majestic. You can see the blue-gray sky patching through the canopy; the clouds are leaving, but some linger a little longer to clog up the sky. The air is warm and slightly humid, but a wonderful breeze rustles through the trees and rushes across your bare arms. Your trail shoes squelch underfoot in the damp ground. You sigh, totally content with this moment. 

Frankie’s flannel is tied around his waist, leaving him in his khaki cargo pants and t-shirt. A couple of curls peek out from under his ball cap, turning into little ringlets at the nape of his neck. He walks in front of you on the trail, his boots pressing prints into the soft ground. His back profile is beautiful, even with the large camping pack, and you can’t help but grin. 

Foxtrot embodies her name- Frankie is holding her leash, and the auburn and white dog trots up ahead of him, sniffing along the mulched and muddied path. The air smells of humidity that’s just passed over and that wonderful accompanying petrichor. Fox’s white paws are surely getting dirtied, but that’s only to be expected. You don’t care, too excited to watch your boyfriend and dog walk ahead of you. 

Frowning at the bend of Frankie’s back, you catch up and take his free hand. “Let me carry something, baby.”

“No,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers through yours. “You have important cargo,” he teases and pats your back lightly. 

Strapped to your back, in a backpack-style blue case, is your ukulele. One hand carries the cooler, slung over your shoulder, filled with food and drinks for tonight. Frankie carries the heavy-duty stuff- the tent, stakes, more essential supplies. “At least let me take Fox.”

Her red ears perk up at her name and she stops, turning and growing excited, as if she forgot you were there. “Yeah, hi Foxy!” You coo as she runs towards you, jumping with her front paws in the air in excitement. “Yeah, you love it out here, don’t you?” You ask her in a baby voice, scratching behind her ears as she circles around your legs and prevents you from moving. Frankie drops her leash in order to prevent your legs from being tourniqueted by it, and it drags behind her in the mud. 

When you pick up the leash, it’s sludgy and damp, but you don’t mind too much. You continue the hike forward and Frankie and Fox follow at your sides, both beaming ear to ear and enjoying the serenity of the woods. 

Frankie picked the campsite, so he’s technically leading the way, but the trail is fairly straightforward, meaning you don’t need to be led. Frankie points out wildlife here and there: chipmunks, rabbits, cardinals and chickadees flitting through the pine-needled canopy. He’s in his element, and you’re in yours: with him. 

The mud gives way to drier ground ahead, and luckily enough Frankie pulls off to the side. It’s the perfect spot, with a beautiful little field of wildflowers. “Welcome to your five-star hotel for the night, babe,” he assures you and kisses you softly, making you giggle and kiss him back with excitement and a pinch of nerves in your stomach.

There’s a routine the two of you have silently adopted. Frankie sets up the small tent, just big enough for the two of you and Fox. You gather kindling, set up a fire, arrange the chairs and all-around make the outdoor area of your campsite ideal.

Frankie is a man of patience, truly, but sometimes the little portable tent proves to be a challenge. You allow Fox off of her leash, knowing she’s well-trained enough to stick around the site, and find your way to the mess of fabric and stakes covering the man. “Baby. For the love of God, we do this all the time,” you tease.

“Well, something must’ve fucking changed,” he grumbles as he fiddles with the parts. You get on your knees on the soft bed of dried pine needles and help him out. With your help, the tent takes no time at all to put up, and you stand and brush off your hands. Frankie gives you a sheepish smile and you give him a kiss. 

The two of you don’t need to converse while you set things up. You enjoy the woods, the rustling of the wind and chirping of birds. Fox curls up on the blanket you set out for her, and when everything is done, you unzip the cooler and hand Frankie a beer. “Well, now we’re all set.”

“Let the fun begin,” he chuckles and twists the top open, clinking his glass bottle to yours. 

“So, Francisco,” you smile over at him. “What do you have planned for this trip? I know you have some sort of plan laid out up there,” you tease and rap on his head softly, through the trucker cap resting there.

He blushes a little and looks away. “I don’t always have a plan.”

“Hey.” You turn his face back to yours by the chin. “You do and I absolutely love it. Now tell me about it, please, baby.”

Frankie removes his hat and runs a hand through his curls. “Well, I figured we could start the fire soon, cook dinner over it. It’ll get dark pretty quick. Then hang around the campfire, maybe play some of the games I packed.”

“Is a quiet tumble in the tent on the cards?” You ask him with a teasing grin, nudging his side. 

He shrugs, jokingly, as if he’s considering it. “I don’t see why we couldn’t squeeze that in. We only have, oh… three hours of time in between these plans.”

“Then we’ll use all three of those hours,” you shrug and steal a kiss, smiling into his lips. “I love you. And I love it out here.” You were never a nature person before Frankie, usually preferring indoors adventures to hiking or camping. Frankie looks like he belongs out here, and he probably thinks he does. Even if you didn’t enjoy the fun of outdoors adventuring, you’d have at least one thing to enjoy: Frankie’s excitement and enthusiasm over it. “Thank you.”

Fox is curled at Frankie’s feet, and he bends over to scratch her ears, running his fingers through her scruffy fur. “Thank you, baby. For coming out here with me and putting up with all of this. I couldn’t ask for a better adventure partner.”

-

You do, indeed, cook dinner over the fire. You’d prepped all kinds of chopped vegetables to be grilled over an open flame, and had additionally packed pre-cooked hot dogs as well as s’mores ingredients. Frankie is a firm believer that it’s not camping if it doesn’t include graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows.

Luckily, your Frankie is a skilled griller. He always is, always has been. He takes care of the cooking part, since you prepared everything else, though he lets you hold the hot dogs over the fire to roast. “I feel like I’m at camp again,” you laugh as you slowly rotate the food over the fire.

Frankie is taking charge of the vegetables, expertly. They’re getting a beautiful char, you notice. “It’s much better, because you don’t have to sneak around to make out with your boyfriend at night, huh?” He teases and tosses you a grin. 

“But I get my boyfriend all to myself,” you nod and confirm. “And I have my baby girl with me,” you coo as you rub Foxtrot’s head, where she’s resting at your side.

The meal is delicious, of course, when the two of you work together and each used your strong skills. Frankie slips bites to Fox when he thinks you’re not looking, of course, but it’s endearing, the way the dog’s big brown eyes mirror those looking down at her.

There’s not much conversation while you eat, mouths occupied with food rather than speaking. That’s alright. There’s plenty of time for that tonight and tomorrow.

The sun starts sinking lower when Frankie brings the marshmallows from the tent. “Guess what time it is!” He exclaims as he rips open the bag, skewering two marshmallows and holding them over the fire.

Like he’s a skilled griller, he’s also a wonderful marshmallow-toaster. Frankie toasts yours to perfection, just the way you like it, and you do your part as the s’more-sandwicher, shoving the marshmallow between the graham crackers and chocolate.

There’s no signal out here, and you agreed neither of you would use your phones unless an emergency happened. Frankie frowns as he sees your phone. “Hey. Put that away. Don’t use that.”

“There’s an emergency, Frankie,” you whine, opening the camera app with one hand and eating the sugary dessert with the other.

“And what’s that?” He asks, taking a bite of his s’more. 

Strings of gooey marshmallow connect the sandwich to his lips, making him laugh, and you snap a picture at the perfect moment: Frankie’s closed-lipped smile as his s’more falls apart on him. “You’re too damn cute, that’s the emergency,” you laugh and set the photo as your lock screen, tossing it away.

Frankie’s schedule actually worked itself naturally. After the s’mores and a wet-wipe hand-washing to remove the endless marshmallow from Frankie’s hands, you find yourself sitting around the fire, no light left in the sky. When you look up, all you can see is inky blue and pine trees, the stars yet to make their nightly rise. 

“I have a song request,” Frankie asks and raises his hand like a child in a classroom.

“Yes, Francisco?” You tease as you walk to the tent, grabbing your ukulele and returning with it, sitting back in your lawn chair with it. “Hit me.”

“Only The Good Die Young by Billy Joel. No, wait- Country Roads.”

Laughing, you noodle around with the strings for a moment. You knew this moment would come, and here’s the opportunity. “I can play all of those and more, Frankie. We’ll do the Billy Joel first,” you nod decisively.

Frankie sounds like the forest wolves at night when he sings along. He absolutely howls, taken away by the song, taken to a place where his voice isn’t just a little on the rougher end of good. He belts the words and dances along in his seat, like you do.

Then Country Roads. You thought the last one was bad before you hear Frankie’s booming voice echoing the ballad of West Virginia through seemingly the entire preserve. But you don’t care in the slightest. You sing along proudly, strumming your ukulele harder and harder until you’re sure you can’t add any more volume before snapping a string. 

After the song, you pause and rest your ukulele flat on your lap. “Frankie, baby. Can I ask you something?”

He nods, smiling over at you. “Any time. What’s up, buttercup?” He asks, taking one of your hands and kissing the knuckles.

“Will you marry me?” You ask. The question is straight and to the point, blunt and honest. Your face conveys your hope, and the grandiose speech follows. “I love you beyond belief, Frankie. I love you almost as much as you love these woods. I know you love me too. I just… think it’s time. We’ll be perfect for it. What do you say?”

You can feel Frankie’s slightly-chapped lips curve into a smile against your hand. He’s grinning and then he’s crying, soft water droplets forming in the corners of his eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you,” he grins, grabbing your ukulele and setting it aside.

Once the ukulele is on the ground, Frankie stands in front of your chair and lifts you to your feet, kissing you with such fervor you can’t help but gasp. When he breaks away, you smile, eyes watering too. “I know it wasn’t the most elegant of proposals, but-”

“It was the most us,” Frankie cuts you off with a teary grin. “I would be honored to be your husband, my love. You really want me enough to do that?”

“Frankie,” you coo, cupping his face in your hand. “You are the best husband I could ever want, could ever dream for,” you assure him and kiss his nose gently.

The man laughs, wiping his tears away. “Then let’s get married,” he whoops excitedly, then lets out an excited shout to the woods. “We’re getting married!”

You laugh at his loud and booming declaration, but nothing can detract you for the love and joy in your heart.

When you and Frankie settle down in your chairs again, you pick up the ukulele and finish off with one last beautiful song that you and Frankie have always adored, with a title that truly fits: At Last.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

[whisperlullaby]

Ukulele

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Music shop AU)

Warnings: Talk of death (no major characters or spoilers), fluff. That’s it. Fluffy flirty Bucky because it’s what we deserve.

Word Count: 1449

Summary: You need to get a ukulele for your niece’s birthday and head right into Bucky’s music shop

A/N: 2 oneshots in one week?! Who am I? Special thanks to @river-soul​ for always amping me up and reading my stories. Forever grateful for you! If I missed any warnings let me know.

Tags: @syntheticavenger​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @immatr3x​

This was your last resort. You had to find a ukulele for your niece that wasn’t over your budget. It was astounding to you how expensive this tiny instrument was online. People were probably upselling it. You were fortunate that your friend pointed you in the direction of a local music shop that carried various instruments, records, and supplies. You don't know why you didn't think about it in the first place.

You saw the neon open sign and ran into the shop out of the pouring rain. You planned on staying for a bit until the rain let up and as you were shaking off the cool droplets you heard a low gravelly voice behind you, “Good morning, is there anything I can help you find today?”

You turned around and were met with the most handsome man you had ever seen. His clear blue eyes had you wishing the rain clouds would go away so you could compare them to the sky. He was wearing a tight white shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. His hair was pushed back into a bun and you could just imagine running your fingers through his long hair.

You shook off your shock like the rain and cleared your suddenly dry throat, “I’m just browsing for now, but thank you.” Hoping that your non-committal answer would allow him to let you stay in the shop long enough for the rain to stop.

“No problem, I'm Bucky if you have any questions I’ll be right over here.” He went back behind the counter and started strumming a guitar. The melody was so soothing you almost forgot why you had come to the store in the first place.

“Hey what are you playing?” You wondered from across the empty store.

“Just a song I’m working on. If it’s bothering you I can stop for a bit. I shouldn’t be playing music during business hours anyway but the owner lets me get away with it.” He threw you a sly smirk.

You let out a breathy laugh, “No you don't have to stop, it sounds really beautiful. The owner sounds like a pretty great guy letting you practice during business hours. Is he around often? Or does he stay home on rainy days.”  

Bucky smiled at you, “I was making a joke dove, apparently a pretty bad one. I’m actually the owner.”

You slapped your forehead and flushed red. You were an idiot, your friend told you the owner Bucky was really helpful. Which is why she had suggested it in the first place. 

“Oh my god I’m an idiot I knew you were the owner. I’m so sorry, my name is Y/N” You sighed, “actually if you could help me I am looking for a ukulele for my niece. It’s her birthday tomorrow and everything I found online was either too expensive or too cheap.”

Bucky set down his guitar, “Follow me. We don’t get a lot of ukulele requests so I keep that stock in the back.” You moved to follow Bucky to the back stockroom. 

As you entered the back room Bucky held out his hand. “It’s a bit tight back here so you’ll have to follow close. I would hate for you to trip over something and get hurt.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand as he led you through the cramped stockroom with ease. You could feel yourself getting heated the longer you held his hand and prayed to every single deity you could think of that he did not notice your palm begin to sweat. 

“So how old is your niece going to be?” Bucky stopped at a section of shelving that contained several different boxes.

“She’s going to be 12. After her dad died last year and all she wanted to do was play music. She says it makes her feel like he’s still around. He was a high school band teacher and loved his string instruments. It’s been really hard on her and my sister is doing her best to make sure she honors his memory.” You paused and looked at Bucky. He was staring at you with such sorrow. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry I just completely overshared didn’t I? I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Bucky let out a long sigh looking down. “Don’t worry about it Y/N. It’s kind of a similar reason why I got into music. Why I opened this shop. Growing up my house was always filled with different music, every morning my mom would put on a record and then play along on her piano. All different types of music too.” Bucky paused and looked back at you “When she passed away 5 years ago it was like all music just lost it’s meaning. It took about a year before I picked up a guitar again and I still have a hard time looking at a piano, but when I did I remembered that music is what made me feel the happiest. I feel my ma around me when I’m strumming along to a song. I opened up this music shop to honor her too.”

Bucky shrugged off the jacket he was wearing and showed you the sleeve of tattoos running up his left arm. Black and white piano keys surrounded by blue, purple, orange, and red music notes and frets. 

“I got this to remind myself that music is a part of who I am.” You reached out to touch the inked skin and traced the piano keys up his bicep. It was so beautiful you hadn’t realized how close you had gotten to him until you looked up and his face completely filled your vision.

You cleared your throat and stepped back only to collide with another shelf causing Bucky to cage you into the shelf while boxes of guitar strings fell to the ground around you.

 “I am so sorry I am such a clutz.” You were whispering having lost your voice at the proximity of Bucky once again. 

“It’s okay dove, are you hurt? Nothing hit you right?” Bucky was concerned, his hands rested on your hips as he looked you over. You were sure he could hear your heart drumming in your chest. The rain outside was beating on the roof in perfect harmony, and the soft sounds of the air conditioner seemed to play on key. A beautiful symphony.

 After he was content you weren’t hurt, his eyes met yours before briefly looking at your lips. Your tongue darted out to swipe your bottom lip unconsciously. Bucky’s hands tightened at your waist as he leaned in and met your mouth with his. The kiss was soft and tender. When he pulled away, Bucky smiled and let go of your hips.

 “We should probably get you that ukulele.” He shrugged back on his jacket and pulled down a box. He opened it to show you the beautiful teal ukulele with orange and yellow painted flowers.

“Bucky this is perfect! How much?” Bucky ignored your question and started leading you from the stockroom back to the front of the store. He led you through the door with a hand at the small of your back all the way to the cash register.

“Let’s see, so normally this ukulele runs around $250.” Your face dropped, that was way too expensive for you, but Bucky continued. “But when you apply the birthday discount, the amazing kisser discount, and the going on a date with the owner discount. It comes out to $75.” Bucky smiled devilishly at you.

You crossed your arms and threw him a coy smile. “Going on a date with the owner you say? I don’t remember that conversation happening.” 

You tapped your forefinger on your chin like a metronome. “Even still don’t you think that’s a pretty steep discount? You’ll be losing money.”

“Well, maybe you’re right, but I am the owner so I guess I can sell the merchandise how I see fit. We could talk about it over dinner tonight?” Bucky mused.

You took your bottom lip in between your teeth thinking about his request.

 “Well lucky for you the only thing I had planned for today was getting my niece the perfect birthday present.” You reached into your bag for the cash to pay for the gift and a business card with your personal number on it. “Text me with the details and I’ll meet you there.” 

Bucky handed you the box and took your business card. As you left his shop, the pouring rain now a light drizzle, he picked up his guitar and started strumming the beginning of a new song he hoped you would like.

[mochiiwrites]

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.