#also screw the scarf patterns | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ismaet · 3 years ago

Text

Housekid AU Part 4

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Idea: Casita raises Mirabel

Julieta is Busy. Very Busy. Busy making sure the people of Encanto are healthy. Busy stopping outbreaks of diseases due to weak, untrained immune systems before they could go any bigger. Busy cooking food all day and night so she could fulfill her job in the first place. Busy, Busy, Busy.

Agustin is Busy. Very Busy. Busy assisting his wife in the kitchen. Busy assisting his wife in whatever errands she had for the day. Busy providing her ovens with the right amount of firewood. Busy, Busy, Busy.

Julieta and Agustin are very Busy.

The kitchen's practically their Room now.

The only breaks they ever get are during sleep, eating times, and for hygiene.

And even those are tainted with work.

Sleep filled with the worries of tomorrow's tasks. Eating times filled with new orders chores being handed out. Heck, their baths are hardly baths at all. It's all as quick as one reasonably can make; because the more time passes that they aren't in the kitchen, the more time accidents and incidents are allowed to happen without Julieta's Gift as a Safety Net.

The more time reasons for her Mamá to double her workload are tempted to manifest.

She can't have that.

She can't handle any more.

So, Julieta works extra hard to not make any mistakes- to not have any delays or interruptions. Everything that's to be done is done; nothing more, nothing less. The Encanto is counting on her. Mamá is counting on her.

(It's tiring, but at least she isn't alone. Agustin is always by her side, and she sometimes gets to see her two daughters whenever their chores intersect in time and place. Those are always the best of days: when the four of them are together. Even for the briefest of minutes.

But lately, there's been something nagging at the back of Julieta's mind. There's been something that makes her heart plummet in that certain kind of fear; that raises her adrenaline in that familiar rush that often comes in the wake of a big epiphany. Specifically, the realization that she's forgotten something. Something important. Something very important apparently, because the feeling is slowly increasing in intensity with each passing day.

You've forgotten something. You've forgotten something. You've forgotten something. You've forgotten somethingYou'veforgottensomethingYou'veforgottensomethingYou'veforgottenYou'veforgottenforgottenforgottenforgottenforgOTtENFoRGOTtEnFORGOTTEN-

Did she?)

Perspective shift

A lot happened during the weeks following Abuelita's suggestion.

For one, Mirabel finally finished her new dress. It was still mostly white- she was her Mamí's kid, after all -but now it also has splashes of her Tio's green in the form of a scarf tied around her waist, the hourglass pattern line from his old Ruana lining the hem of her skirt, the tassles and frills at the bottom and underside of said skirt, and finally the new Glamour Bandana around her neck.

Seeing that she was going though a wardrobe change, she had decided to take the chance to ditch her old Glamour Ruana after her hermano's report of the accidental mind-screwing (plus sometimes it flies to cover her eyes during roof-runs; she now knows how it feels to land on the pavement face first), and also because of the fact that it was beginning to be too small for her.

Her brother had then suggested the bandanna as a replacement- because it was small and practical and subtle -and from there, the Glamour Bandanna was born.

"Are you sure this won't scramble my brain anymore?"

"I already said sorry, Yano!"

(Her Tio Bruno also cried for a good 40 minutes upon seeing her new dress, but that was to be expected. Don't worry though; Mirabel hugged and cuddled him, Mariano dug up his twistiest plotlines to share a laugh over, Abuelita made him tea, and Casita hummed a calming tune with her tiles. Their efforts washed the tears away, but the proud smile at seeing his ratoncita wearing his color remained smugly stuck on his face for the rest of the year.)

Next, in a discussion over Bruno's potential alter egos for public usage, attention was brought to Casita's lack of a last name. The matter, surprisingly, offended Senora Rosa Guzman; and the woman immediately sought to remedy it.

By offering her original apellido.

"Mi hermana, you're alive. You deserve, at the very least, a last name. So... if it isn't too forward, and you haven't picked one yet... you can use my maiden one. This way, not only will you have a complete nombre, we'd finally be sisters in name as well."

The loud explosion of motion around Mirabel's Lantern following that declaration was a resounding acceptance, and the youngest Madrigal added to the chaos by cheering for her mother's new apellido. (Idly, she wondered if 'Mirabel Valentina Rojas Guzman Milagros Madrigal' was too long a name now. It probably was, but honestly, she could care less. Her mother and Abuelita were 'officially' sisters now! That was the more important thing in this situation!)

Then finally, her Tio being public ready after weeks of preparation. The costumes for his rats were done, his stage-stand was primed, and his stories were proof-read and as riveting as ever.

Mirabel had also finished the enchanted threadwork for glamour needed on his cape (similar to her bandanna), and so with the added bonus of her mother gleefully, proudly letting her Tio have her new last name as his alter ego's- Oscar Milagros:The Storyteller was born.

"Hey, look at you, Tio!"

"Go Tio!"

"Knock their socks off, Brunieto!"

Suffice it to say, this year had been quite busy for the Guzman-Milagros-Madrigal Bunch, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Bonds were tightening, connections were strengthening, skills were flourishing; the little family was thriving.

(And Casita couldn't help but preen proudly at the fact that she was the catalyst to all of this. She had set out to raise and take care of her Little Miracle, and she had done it. Her daughter won't ever be alone and unloved now

especially if something bad were to happen to her.)

Bruno's first show was held near the outskirts of town.

Not only did that fact allow him a small sample size of a viewing audience as a field test- as well as give the illusion that he came from outside of the Encanto with the usual traders -it was also away from Madrigal Traffic.

Because Alma Madrigal was always one for appearances, and that made her focus on the central part of town- unintentionally neglecting the Outskirts.

(They exploited that fact with unparalleled glee.)

So they dragged his wheeled stage-stand into one of the plazas, took a step back, and allowed Oscar Milagros to come out and play.

Later, Mirabel would be happy to report (read: Recall. They were all present for her Tio's first show) that it was a hit.

People were instantly drawn in by her Tio's natural air of mystique and playfulness. His new special way of speaking kept them in place just as much as the words conveying his tale. The weirdness and cuteness derived from his use of costumed rats in conjunction with his gorgeous painted backgrounds only added to his unique charm.

The hook of his Pilot episode certainly didn't hurt the positive reception either. From the current reactions, she couldn't wait to see how'd the Town would handle the biggest plot twist in Season 1.

All in all, it was a promising start. And as weeks went by with an episode every couple of days, it was clear that it'll only be uphill from there.

"Senor Oscar! Senor Oscar! What's gonna happen next?!"

"Ay, Oscar! You better give Georgia what she deserves!"

"I knew it! I called it!"

"Hey Oscar! They aren't really related, are they?"

"Senor Oscar! Can I play with your rats?"

"Oye, Oscar! Here's some cheese for your actors. They did a good job during Episode 24!"

"Oscar please tell me they'd get together! I can't handle the suspense!"

"No! No fucking way! That wasn't- wait. That was what that foreshadowing meant?!"

"Oscar hijo! Have a drink- that episode was more emotional than usual, eh?"

"Hey Oscar! When you showing at other parts of town? I have a couple of amigos interested over at the East side!"

"Guys, guys! Senor Oscar's here! He's here!"

The audience had even started throwing money at the end of each episode- which Tio Bruno originally declined, but in the end accepted to use for funding the show and repaying Abuelita despite her protests.

Mirabel took note of her Tio's growing self-confidence- his wide smile, carefree movement, much more expressive self; and smiled.

Yeah, he was going to be fine.

(The Lantern Burns, a little stronger.)

Perspective shift

It's almost Mirabel's birthday again (Ay Dios Mio, how time flies!), and Rosa Guzman has a Plan.

Ever since Little Mirabel found them (or more accurately, was led to) at the tender age of 6 and became her student in all things concerning the needle and thread, the woman has learned a lot about her adopted nieta.

(Never before has she felt the urge to strangle an old friend so strongly.)

The most relevant to her Plan though, was the fact that the little butterfly had to run from La Casa Madrigal all the way to La Casa Guzman and vice versa, every single day. Either on the roads, or on the rooftops.

It was good exercise yes- little Mirabel had the body of an athlete hidden under all that baby fat -but surely doing so so often, not to mention all the chaos that she usually falls into between each run, would be tiring?

And so thus, the Plan.

Casita's physical form would always be her home even if the family within it isn't, of course. But giving her precious Mirasol one of the guest rooms in the house for times she's too exhausted to make the trip would make for a good birthday present, no? Her own place in the house that isn't the Sewing Room. (She could even do the same for her darling Brunieto!) Oh, just thinking about all the benefits of such an arrangement for her beloved nieta makes her all the more excited to start.

And so, start she did.

The rooms themselves were already ready to house a person, so besides being a bland blank canvas (that would be absolutely bursting with color once her nieta was done with it, she was sure), she didn't have to worry about that front.

What all she really needed to do was get her Mirasol material and furniture to decorate her new room with, clean said room of dust, and go to Senor Alfonso downtown to commission for a personalized doorknob.

She had noticed that trend with all the Madrigal Doors- their doorknobs carved with the first letter of their name -and figured her nieta would like to have her own.

(Casita telling her that the Nursery's handle was only a dull, common knob was merely more motivation and more disappointment and sadness and anger and offense.)

The first two tasks were easy. All she had to do was keep the material and furniture in their supply crates and store them in the room during the evening (after she cleaned it, of course) when her nieta was at La Casa Madrigal.

The third one though...

"Really, Mama?!" Mariano's face was indescribably excited. At her fond nod, he beamed before saluting.

"You can count on me!"

Then he rushed off, grabbing his machete from the wall and practically burst into the Sewing room, eliciting an adorable yip of surprise from his hermanita.

"Yano wha-"

"Miraposita! Break! Mama's got a sudden errand to attend to! Wanna go Scouting with me?!"

Poor little Mirabel blinked at him a few times in confusion, but quickly recovered with a big, wide smile. Ah, they'll never get enough of that sight, will they?

"Really?!"

"Really! Race you to Montana View Point!" With his challenge made, Mariano ran to the nearest balcony, jumped on the railings, and climbed onto the roof with a masterful flip. Mirabel- with a bit of a scuffle to gently put away the piece she'd been working on and an indignant 'HEY!' -was right behind him, face set and her bag glowing extra bright as Casita shifted a few planks to allow her an unbroken sprint.

Seconds later, as Rosa watched her children fade into flitting dots above the rooves against the horizon; the woman smirked triumphantly.

Time to get that doorknob made.

Perspective shift

There's definitely something going on with the Lantern.

Casita hummed, feeling out that piece of her intertwined with her daughter's soul. Already, it's starting to feel less her and more Mirabel's; which was great! Not only would that strengthen both her Candelita and the Lantern's flame, it would also give Casita more of a leg to stand on when claiming the youngest Madrigal as a daughter.

(Unnoticed, Mirabel's image on The Madrigal Family Portrait slowly fades away. Bruno's is not far behind.)

But anyway; ever since Mirabel and Mariano's acknowledgement of their siblinghood, the Lantern Candle's Flame had suddenly switched from being just a window she can reach out from into a whole entire room. It's been storing energy, using energy, increasing little by little in magical strength- and for once, Casita doesn't have the faintest idea why. Actually, that's a lie, she does have a theory, but- it's too early to tell. Though if it is going that way...

Casita grinned.

She can't wait.

Perspective shift

Bruno understands, but he can't help but worry.

"Ay, little listener. What's the, what's the problem? Rain is beautiful but your clouds are so dark."

His little Bat hums tiredly, a half-heartedly eaten arepa in her hands. Her hair is loose and free, as his hands need them to be in order for a comb.

It's only a few minutes after his show today, after all. They've got time.

Brush, pull, brush, fluff. Her hair's smooth, silky. The sensation is funny.

"Tio...I've, I've been..." Her voice is smaller than usual.

"Hmm?"

"...it's her 8th soon." There's sadness, longing.

"You have a gift ready?" An out.

"We're up to 3 years now." Ah, he's always known she was as stubborn as her mother. She's started it, she's seeing it through. There's pride in his chest.

"They're up to 3 years. They forgot. We didn't. You didn't."

Gratitude flashes in her eyes. It's quick to be drowned. "She doesn't know though."

Bruno grins. "But she could."

There's fear. Of rejection, specifically. Of hate. It's irrational, Bruno thinks, considering his Mouse is involved.

"Isn't it too late?" Her voice had no business being that meek.

It doesn't suit her.

"We never stopped though, Little Bat. Even with, with me in Casita's walls. Even with you in Mamá's noose. Never missed a birthday. We've got perfect attendance. Mira's just not the Monitor for yours."

He thinks of the flashes of surprise, suspicion, recognition, and dangerous hope in his Mouse's eyes whenever she received one of Dolores' gifts under the guise of them being from Bruno.

He thinks of his Mouse going the extra mile for Dolores' gifts on her birthdays; more than for any other family member (except him).

He thinks- he hopes, really -that they might have a new family member soon.

"But she'd love to be, I feel," He grabs her red ribbon and begins tying, "She'd love to see your record."

A tight pull, a quick fluff. His sobrina's beautiful.

A bite on the arepa. "You think so?"

A smirk. "I know so."

There's... nervousness. Jittering. And then it's gone. An inhale, an exhale, one final breath; and determination replaces.

It doesn't go away.

"I should have enough of Abuela's trust by now," She breathes out, "That I, I could make it. I would make it. But- But I don't have a gift yet. I mean, I do but- it's not, it's- nothing worthy for this." The end is an octave higher.

Bruno laughs.

His smile is a little mad.

"Oh, little Bat. Your presence would be a gift enough."

Perspective shift

It's Mirabel's 8th birthday, and La Casa Guzman came alive in more ways than one.

Loud, enthusiastic greetings and songs. Impromptu dances. A flour fight in the kitchen while they were baking Mirabel's cake. A scuffle-tickle-wrestling fight in the same kitchen while they were trying to clean it up. A water fight in the bathroom while they were getting cleaned up. Playing dress-up in Mariano's room and the whole debacle ending with them somehow making a patch that striped the boy's hair with a fitting yellow and a scarf that made him look like a girl version of himself. Playing weirdly complicated but very engaging games in the living room with Casita as their Gamemaster, the whole event evolving into a full-on story/play that Bruno immediately wrote down for a possible side-show. A singing competition after Mirabel playfully mocked Mariano's latest poems for not rhyming, and the boy broke out into song in response. A race across the whole of Encanto after the two kids (and one magical entity) were kicked out so that the rest of the food could be made without chaos.

All-in-all, a normal day for the Guzman-Milagros family; and Mirabel wouldn't have it any other way.

(The Lantern Sparks. The Candle Shudders. Casita pauses, and anticipates.)

When they were finally allowed back, the sight that greeted them can only be described by the word 'cosy'.

The dining table was all set up and ready, filled with delicious food enough for all of them. Around the living room were colorful decorations: flags, triangles, stars, banners, streamers- but none too bright or too flashy. They just put a lot more pop of contrast against the warm clay brown of the walls, emphasizing that while there was a celebration, it was still home. There were also more pillows than usual and even a few blankets on the sofas too- as well as a hammock and a thin mattress on the floor next to the fireplace -just for good measure.

They already had their rambunctious fun in the morning, after all, so now it was time for quiet.

(And considering what was probably going to happen in the next few minutes, the reprieve was very much needed.)

The cake was not yet done though, so Mirabel and Mariano took that chance to rest and cuddle by the fireplace; Bruno later joining them with a cup of Chocolate Santafereño and a half-bitten Buñuelo. They shared a few stories, a few jokes- a fight over Bruno's Buñuelo almost happened and the only saving grace had been the fact that the siblings were tired: typical bonding activities of the Guzmán-Milagros'.

The calm, amused quiet that followed that almost-fight was later pleasantly broken by Abuela Rosa's beautiful voice.

"Cumpleaños feliz," She sang softly, emerging from the kitchen with a two-layer white cake covered in colorful frosting and 8 candles, "Cumpleaños feliz!"

Mariano and Bruno shared a glance before putting on two happy grins. "Te deseamos todos!" They eagerly led their little Mirabel to the table, putting her on the head chair that Casita provided with a few tile shifts.

"Cumpleaños feliz!" All three elders finished, the result of their efforts a little girl with teary eyes and a brilliant smile on her face.

"Graciás," Mirabel managed, "Graciás."

"Happy Birthday, Hermanita." Mariano smiled, pointing to the candles with a tilt of his head. "Go on; make a wish!"

Abuelita lightly smacked her son by the bicep, earning a giggle from the birthday girl. "Let her have the moment, mi pequeno Ciervo. Your stomach can wait."

"Ay but Mamá! Your Ají de Aguacate!" Mariano half-joked, half-whined; sending a wink to his sister before fully immersing himself in the argument of the ethics of using manipulation to get to eat food faster.

When Bruno joined the bickering seconds later, Mirabel couldn't help but close her eyes and relish in the feeling of having her family's voices all around her. It was nice. The subtle but always-there hum of her Mamí's magic slowly seeping into La Casa Guzman, the presence of her family members, the bond underneath all their playful arguments and insults, the warmth of their love from the bodies surrounding her to the food and decorations- it was all so... home, that Mirabel wanted to bawl.

Her her bigger family La Familia Madrigal was a big family. But it never felt like one, barring very few, very rare moments. Everyone was almost always separated, lost in the monotony of their work, that even during Family meals- it was all just chores, chores, chores. It was all about the image of a perfect family; rather than striving to be as close as they can to being one. The connections were flimsy, superficial. Dios, they even forgot about her!

(Idly, unknowingly, instinctually; she thinks of cracks covered in desperate plaster, slathered with layers of substandard paint.)

(Casita startles. The Lantern gives an almost playful spark. The Candle trembles.)

La Familia Guzman-Milagros, though? A small family of 5? With half of them not even related? The bonds are tight, thick. No matter how far away each member are from each other, they never feel alone. The... there-ness, of each person is ever present. It's impossible to ignore- not that anybody ever wanted to. There was love, there was care; and it was warm.

(When Mirabel blew out her candles, her wish was plain on her face.)

Surprisingly, the birthday dinner was calm- for Guzman-Milagros standards, at least. Mariano hogged all of the Ají de Aguacate but Abuelita Rosa managed to stop him before he could get a stomach ache. Bruno accidentally dipped an arepa in hot sauce and only survived because Casita got him some milk. Mirabel choked on a candle that Mariano somehow included with the cake slice he gave. The more exciting stories they'd saved for this event finally got told, helped by a couple of Bruno's rats for practice. There were also a few close calls to a 4-way food fight- over the argument of whether or not coconuts were of mammalian nature, no less -but Abuelita, amazingly, halted those with just a single raised eyebrow and the Look Of Disappointment™ brimming behind her eyes.

(Casita feels excitement. The Lantern's about to put on a show.)

Before they knew it, they had cleaned up the table, and it was finally time for presents.

(Mariano and his Mother shared excited glances.)

The two men of the family went first, with the more theatrical one revealing his box with a graceful flourish of his cape. Bruno's gift is a custom pocket watch; polished silver for the casing, green glass for the face, and the intricate butterfly designs inlaid in gold. The words 'Las arenas se arremolinan, pero el desierto es un río' are expertly carved on the side.

"'The sands swirl, but the desert's a river'," Mirabel read, gently tracing the words. Bruno smiled.

"It's to remind you," His hand seek her hair and he obliges, "that the Future is always changing. It's to remind you, that however worse the sandstorm is, it isn't still. It's to remind you, that you should always push forward, no matter how hard it may be." He looks her in the eye. For a second, green glows in tandem with gold.

"It's to remind you," There's a lilt in his soft voice; a lilt perhaps of mischief? Fondness? Joy? Love? "that I See by the sand, and thus so you should never worry when traversing it, because I will always be there by your side, as your eyes and as your guide."

It takes a minute for Mirabel to calm down.

(The Lantern sparks. It's Bright.)

After cooing at the adorable Sobrina-Tio moment, the youngest of the two men finally stepped forward and his grin is something fierce. Mariano's gift is a small machete (What? Tia Casita told me I could! Mira will be fine, Mama!)- engraved with Mirabel's name and with a sheath made of the best leather for her enchanted embroidery.

"Two more years and they'd let you join me out there," Mariano said, watching as his sister admired her new blade, "and by then you'll have needed to have your own bolo. So I got you one! You're the best dance partner I've ever had, hermanita. I can't wait."

Mirabel's beaming smile rivaled the shine of her machete's polish.

(The Lantern sparks. It's Brighter.)

It's now Abuela Rosa's turn, and Mirabel could feel the atmosphere shift. Like... the world itself was holding it's breath- excited and nervous for whatever laid inside the innocuous small wrapped box.

"Mijita preciosa," The elder woman began, "I've had the honor and pleasure of calling you one of my own for two years now, and hopefully for more. You've thrived under my care, and we as well in your company. La Casa Guzman became a home for you," Her smile is mischievous, "And I think it's about time to make that official, no?"

"Abuelita?"

"Come with me, Mirasol." Gently, the Guzman Matriarch led the Madrigal Heir to the bedroom wing, escorted by their two men. They passed through Abuela's, then Mariano's- until finally, they came to a stop in front of one of the guest rooms.

A dangerous feeling burst inside of Mirabel's chest as she realized that the door had no doorknob.

That feeling only doubled when Mariano left her tail with a realizing Bruno in tow, both of them then positioning themselves on each side of the door.

"Abuelita?" Mirabel asked again, tears in her eyes and a desperate, reluctantly reigned-in hope in her voice.

The elder woman's smile was all love.

"Happy Birthday, mi pequeña Mirabel," the box that had been taunting her all walk was finally placed in her hands, "Welcome Home."

Shakily, the little girl unraveled the ribbon and lifted the cover.

Inside was the most beautifully crafted golden doorknob she'd ever seen.

Fully trembling now, she grasped the object with as much care as she could while emotions of all kinds and intensity were roiling around inside her poor little heart, her fingers tracing the monogrammed 'M' over and over and over again- as if just to prove to herself that it was real.

She didn't know how long she spent in the trance, or how her tears were big and flowing, but when she finally looked up and saw the patience and love in her family's eyes, she realized it didn't matter. They knew how important this was to her, how needed- and they let her have her moment.

She loves them so much.

"What are you waiting for, hermanita?" Mariano softly half-teased, "Your Door is waiting."

Her Door.

An actual Door to an actual Room.

A Room that was all her own.

It shouldn't have felt like the few steps needed to be closer took years to accomplish, but it did. Mirabel looked at the doorknob again- one last check, one last check -and saw...

Herself.

With her family right behind her.

(The Lantern goes wild. It sparks. It burns. It-)

A happy sob, and finally the doorknob is clicked into place.

(It's gold.)

(Reblog for Part 5! Sorry this took long; School punched me in the gut and had us have the 3rd Mastery Test 2 weeks after the First Day of class when even our LMS is still desert empty. Hope you enjoy!)

572 notes · View notes

gemapples · 3 years ago

Note

Plz rant to us about how much you love magolor

first of all this ask was so sweet out of the blue and made me smile a lot so thank you :) i appreciate it so much

i was gonna be all difficult and respond like "LOL are you sure" but yknow what screw it im bored and i've done that too often already so !! here ya go. everything i love about magolor

this is probably to be expected (especially bc of how often i draw him lmao), but first!! i LOVE his design. his design in particular just really stands out to me compared to the other characters ig; he has unique aspects to him that are so cutesy and charming yet contradicting and mysterious from how he looks alone. you have lil cat ears obviously but he still wears a hood and scarf so you cant see his face at all and glowing eyes??? damn. i also love his cape it's so flowy and cool AND ALSO i feel like the gear patterns are really fitting to him as well and go nicely with who he is. however, at first glance you might think his main purpose is to be a mechanic or engineer, and while that is true, he's also majorly known for being a skilled wizard, and his name is even based off the word magic. i feel like you wouldn't expect that from his design and that makes it all the more interesting... it's like there's underlying aspects that you get a suspicion about from just how he looks, which i feel is extremely fitting to his character. his design conveys that he's from another world so nicely too i feel,, you compare him to kirby and the others and he looks so different and otherworldly, almost. you can immediately tell that he's probably not from the same dimension or planet as everyone else. he has a ton of amazing concept designs but im glad they went with this one tbh it just. LOOKS the most like who magolor is and what he's supposed to represent imo. i love the others a lot too but !! in terms of his design his current one takes the cake for me

i adore how Absolutely layered of a character he is. there are so many bubbling details beneath him that have so much impact i just. God. him coming from another planet that's practically dead with very little to no life left and him not knowing what friendship is or how it's supposed to properly work, him betraying the others and falling deep into "obsession and hatred", him finding an exit, dealing with the massive pressure and apologizing to kirby, but him still getting up to funny mischief now and then !! you literally never know what you're gonna get with him (some of those might be personal interps but let's pretend they're not (whoopsie)). Just how he's developed and where he's now placed in the franchise,, he could be classified as comic relief yet he's still a main character if that makes sense?? i'm dying on the hill that magolor is a main character even though he didn't appear in forgotten land idc

i like to think he's similar to how bandee was but. also not ig lol idek -- like both of them debuted in one game and were expected to just?? not return??? but they did and became extremely significant characters who have made such a massive change. they could have chosen to cast magolor aside or whatever, say fuck it and kill him off, etc. but instead they didn't stop there and wanted to keep going with his character and give him a huge role. yeah you could argue it's bc of his popularity but i still think thats so cool tbh he just seems so unique compared to the rest of the cast in his own way and its. really interesting to see how he fits in the series in general !! him and his game are literally where kirby lore and more effective storytelling began imo and i think thats. So amazing they really tried to expand and develop the series through his character and it shows how important he is and how significant he places in terms of kirby as a whole

on a related note -- his personality is something unlike any other. they described him as "deceiving while telling the truth" and i think that's really important bc it's hard for you to tell when he's actually being genuine. and that's unique to most of the other characters and makes him feel out of place in a way and.. yeah mysterious !!! even when he apologized after he fucked up, his wording gave the impression like he just seemed to shrug it off like it wasn't a big deal despite the fact it obviously changed his life which also relates to the former thing and fhjkgfh Wow!! ofc dream collection could've taken place a bit after he actually apologized to kirby but y'know !!

also never get tired of the fact that man's ego is the size of the entire galaxy through hell and back . "look at me, i'm such a nice guy right?" I love how he actually Recognizes how important he is and acknowledges // acknowledged how he can use certain situations to his advantage and this may result in him coming off as stuck-up and thinking of himself more highly than everyone else but !! he doesn't care . Plus he's completely aware how strong he really is and just how he can use all of his abilities and skills to his advantage. Yet despite this, you may get a touch of underlying sadness, guilt, loneliness from him... all the more reason he's a layered character :)

extended from the last one but yeah i love how like. Insanely powerful he is and yeah you could say it's bc of the master crown or whatever (probably is lol) but Listen he has such a wide variety of magical attacks and i think it's so cool bc i feel like he doesn't depend on them Too much yet he still shows them off?? if that makes sense?? like he still uses them a lot for things in, say, dream collection for obstacles i don't even know where im going with this LMAO but yeah his abilities are just so !!! very cool like you take one look at him and you think he would be weak or wouldn't have any powers yet he could destroy you from like 40 miles away or something and he's one of the most broken characters in ksa, kf2, etc. mans can summon literal black holes, portals and giant swords that only kirby could previously wield like it's nothing now, if that doesn't make him one of the most powerful characters currently then idrk what does (i remember in a star allies article while describing his ultra sword they stated something along the lines of "did he secretly stash up power from the master crown? or did he steal this ability from kirby?" and while it's most likely the former in a realistic sense could you IMAGINE how insanely strong he would be if he could actually steal abilities from kirby, the most powerful character with the most powerful abilities. Just putting that out there)

said this briefly in the design paragraph already but i appreciate how many things about him can go two ways that usually contradict one another. Maybe i'm thinking too much into it but lol the most obvious one is, ofc, how he acted as a friend vs. deceived kirby but other things too like. How he combines steampunk elements and high-tech elements at the same time which are opposites. as i said he's also a magician which is !! also not something you may see with those two together i believe star allies and his name in general adds a TON of fuel to this bc it confirmed how his name literally means "false paradise" and "wonderful place" if you combine translations which also contradict each other i also like to think that "magic" in his name can also refer to the fact that he's also extremely skilled in certain areas such as yknow. Getting to handle others or outsmart them, seeing things from others' perspectives, or even being a very talented speaker altogether (a magician or wizard can also mean someone who extremely skilled at something. just a fun lil thing)

more minor things !!! but i really love how he uses slang + speaks in a dramatic way, and how that relates to his personality as explained above. no other kirby character says "dude", "beast", etc. which i feel can really emphasize how he's not from their world but it's?? very funny to think about fhdjkgh. I know other kirby characters use katakana in japanese but i believe magolor is the main // most popular example in this aspect(?? lmk if this is incorrect though, i just know galactic nova and star dream use it but im not sure about anyone else) i also like how he heavily emphasizes certain words and phrases !! it makes him seem overexaggerated and even more unique than other characters who may act in a more realistic in a way. All of them are unhinged but they're all unhinged in their own way which compliment each other well and i feel magolor adds a lot to this mix :)

speaking of which god i LOVE his voice. i feel it's so fitting despite the fact it's animal crossing language as it's widely called. like they stated in the miiverse post, i love how they made it seem authentic by making him clearly say "kirby", it does kind of make it seem like he has an accent even in english ig. It's so squeaky and cute and adorable like go off lil man!!!

i think i got a lot of everything lmao i'm sure there's a ton more i haven't mentioned or didn't think to mention but just know i love Everything about him he means so much to me like fucking hell i love this character if you couldn't tell. he's just so Good he has so many things about him yet i feel we haven't even scratched the surface of how much there is. i really think this rtdl novel will bring // brought a whole new light to who exactly he is and what he's worth and i'm always looking forward to seeing him around again :) really hope he'll continue to have a lasting impact on the franchise

(extra bonus: also like his lil salutes)

#sorry if this was like. All over the place FHDFDHJ i tried to be organized but there were moments where i literally just went off no brain #hope you enjoy all of this oml thank you again for asking :)#ask #anonymous #magolor #kirby #nvm putting this in the tags i worked hard

191 notes · View notes

theridgebeyond · 2 years ago

Text

Starting my first big OT job tomorrow, and I’ve gotta say, one of the rings I’m most excited for is the chance to experiment with modesty in a work environment where covering my body is considered professional.*

And once I get my first paycheck?? Hooooo you BET I’m getting my hands on the head covering sewing pattern I’ve had my eye on for MONTHS. I absolutely LOVE expressing myself through wearing clothes that cover more of my body** and throwing a fun scarf on to boot? And be visibly (or at least, questionably) religious in public? I live for this.

I have so many thoughts, but the one that comes up the most is, I can’t wait to start living my best life on my own terms. I’m so excited.

*This post isn’t about whether or not this is admirable. This post is about how this is convenient. ** This post also isn’t about whether or not modesty is the Right Choice for every women. Screw that mentality. This post is about how wearing clothes that cover more of my body is right for me ☺️

#thoughts #modesty #christian head covering #head covering #occupational therapy #occupational therapist

10 notes · View notes

jthmreferences · 4 years ago

Photo

So, what can we learn?:

Johnny wears a lot of stripes. Some are thick stripes and sometimes it’s a bunch of thin stripes.

His shirts tend to have horizontal stripes, but sometimes they’ll be vertical. The vertical ones are never thick stripes. One shirt has thin vertical stripes AND thick horizontal stripes on top of it. He has a couple of shirts that have a pattern where some or most of it has thin stripes.

He has one shirt that has thick stripes on the back and is solid with a picture on the front (the wacky one). And one shirt that has thick horizontal stripes with solid colored sides (when he kills the girl with the scythe, it might just be shading). There’s also one that has thin horizontal stripes and a few thin vertical stripes (Things That Make Noise). The shirts with thin vertical stripes are the rarest and never have a picture on them.

His sleeves tend to have a different pattern from the rest of the shirt (most likely so we can see his arm when it’s against his body).

Johnny’s clothes aren’t as tattered as I expected. The ends of his sleeves are more likely to be shredded at the ends, but the bottoms of his shirts are only ripped up in the earlier stuff. Sometimes his pants are ripped up, but it’s hard to tell a lot of the time.

His pants are almost always a solid color or a bunch of vertical stripes, with two exceptions where his pants had thick, horizontal stripes.

Most of his shirts have tails. Usually two in the back, but sometimes it’s one rectangular one. Those ones usually also have one in the front too. Sometimes it’s more of a triangular bit. The tails on his shirt in Descent (issue 4) are thicker and don’t come to a point like they usually do.

Most of his shirts have sleeves that end just above the elbow. Some end halfway down his upper arm and some end a little after his elbow. His pants usually end just above the knee or they’re longer and go down into his boots.

While early on those are all he wears, later he starts wearing shirts and pants under those. Those shirts are always full length and are either a solid color or have horizontal stripes of some sort. The pants are similar except they always have thin stripes when not a solid color and they had vertical stripes once.

Boots!! In the oldest pictures of Johnny they’re a lot shorter, with only two buckles or whatever on them. In earlier stuff the boots are a lot flatter and softer looking. It doesn’t even look like they have steel toes. Around issue 3 they start to look firmer and have two tips at the end. Jhonen goes back and forth a bit on whether the boots have one or two tips on the front, but by issue 7 they definitely have a heel now. He also has the other, shorter boots he’s wearing when Jimmy comes over. They have a bunch of little bits on the front and the steel toe is smaller with a bigger heel. And the other shoes he’s wearing in the more recent pic Jhonen drew of him.

Gloves! He has one pair that’s short and covers the whole hand. He has a pair of long gloves (we don’t see the end of them) that are fingerless. He has long gloves that appear to be made of a thicker material and go to his elbows. Then he has thin, long gloves that aren’t fingerless. He only wears the fingerless ones once. There are also the fishnet gloves he has on the back of issue 5. There’s also the new one which has black gloves with Sickness’s screws on them. I don’t know if ether of these are really canon though.

He has at least one hoodie. (2:15 am) It has a rectangular bit on the front that could be a black zipper or just a block of color.

He has at least 2 crop tops. (Die-ary of issue 3 and when he gives the homeless guy legs) One has the bottom all ripped up.

The coat in Issue 4 and the coat in issue 7 have different lengths, so they might be different coats. He also has the coat in the J’s Not J print.

He wears a belt with a circular buckle at least once.

Color! Obviously, there isn’t much to go on, but Johnny clearly doesn’t just wear black and white. He wears dark purple and blue and has pants that are gray or like a greenish gray. He also has whatever he’s wearing in the headshot, which is a bright blue. So he doesn’t just stick to dark, neutral colors.

He also has a scarf.

I have no idea what the fuck he’s wearing on the cover of issue 3. Someone please explain that!!

Other neat things:

When he gets the coat in hell he also gets a new shirt and pants.

Jhonen’s actually pretty consistent with what Johnny’s wearing before and after his death. The picture disappears sometimes (although that happens all the time) and sometimes it seems like there’s a triangular bit on the front, but that might just be shading.

The outfit he’s wearing when Jimmy comes over is pretty much the brightest. It’s all white with just a few, thin vertical lines. He also has a white shirt when talking to MEAT, but it’s also with a black coat. I’m assuming this is to help make him more different from Jimmy.

If anyone wants to link to real life versions of what Johnny wears I’m sure people would appreciate it. Especially whatever he’s wearing on issue 3.

If you just want all the different pictures on his shirts, someone put this together a long long time ago: https://www.deviantart.com/loomboy/art/Johnny-s-Magic-shirt-56849536

#jthm #johnny's shirts #johnny's clothes #boots

80 notes · View notes

beastenraged · 3 years ago

Text

Spring Tide

@hallowed-nebulae

Oops.

Demyx is definitely not supposed to be here.

Guess he screwed up going that water-spiral-thing. Ended up...here. Wherever here is.

What a nice fountain this is, big enough for several people to stand in it. Surrounded by blooming flowers and carved up with all kinds of fairy pictures.

He traces a carving, humming to himself. What a nice place, full of the magic that tugs at his gills and encourages his scales to grow. The fountain’s water is especially full of magic in particular, splashing onto him.

“There’s someone in the fountain.”

Hm? A person? Who is that? Demyx looks over to see two people looking over at him. A muscly man, with black hair and freckles. Blue eyed too? Blacksmith looking guy. The other Demyx actually knows.

That blue hair and the hum of that Heart...even if a lot else is different, Demyx would know who that is anywhere!

“A baby Saix!” He waves.

The baby Saix stares at him. Almost the exact same glare too, funny. “It’s Isa.”

Demyx bobs his head in a nod. “Right, right, Isa.”

His scales are itching up his neck right now. Clear and obvious for everyone to see, like his exposed gills.

“Isa, do ya know this person?” The beefy man asks the baby Saix.

“He doesn’t,” Demyx says cheerfully before he can answer. “Don’t worry about it!”

“He knows a different me,” Isa confides in the man. Low enough that a non-Nobody wouldn’t catch it over the rushing water. Not that Demyx cares to point that out.

“Still, sharing names ca’ be dangerous.”

“I’m Demyx,” Demyx offers. He takes out Arpeggio, strums it. “If you want a name from me.”

“Alright. That doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”

“Accident.” Demyx strums a long chord, start humming a tune. Building up the magic in it. Maybe he should sing-

“Mind not doing that around here?” The man asks.

Oh, right. People don’t like when strangers start using magic randomly, without letting them know why they’re there.

“Right, my bad!” Demyx lets Arpeggio fades away, running his gloved fingers along the slick rock making up the fountain. Sitting down on the watery sill.

“You can come out, you know.”

He flaps a free hand. “Nah, I’ll just stay right here!”

Don’t want to risk missing the loop that got him here appearing in the fountain without him. Also, the water’s not too bad. He’s waterproofed his coat well enough and his overcoat will just take it in for later magic usage.

His overcoat’s a new one, patterned lace with seashells and waves and maybe a crescent moon or two. But who’s counting? Who cares? Just Demyx, that’s all.

The fountain burbles out slowly with water.

Lazy. Just like him.

Splash splash goes the water.

“Oh, who’s that?” Demyx perks up, looking at the newcomer with silver hair and a red scarf.

“I’m Ephemer,” the newcomer offers. “Who are you?”

“Demyx.” There’s a grey cat off to the side, watching them with thread blue eyes. “Oh, a Chirithy!”

The word comes out without him even knowing where it’s from. Inwardly he shrugs. Done a lot of stuff like that, it’s fine. Part of being a Nobody for Demyx.

The two kids exchange glances while the adult watches him carefully. In case he moves out of the water probably. The Chirithy looks him over.

“Heya, how’re you doing? Working hard?” Demyx asks.

“You don’t seem the type to work at all, but want all the benefits anyway.” The Chirithy tilts their head.

Demyx deflates. “Aw man, do you have to say it like that? Ouch.”

“Sorry,” the cat eventually says. In the end. After their silver haired owner nudges them with a foot slightly.

“Sure, whatever.” Hm, it’s getting boring just sitting in the wet without playing any music. His gills flutter as he scratches the back of his head.

There is one thing he can.

“Soooo...” he draws out. “Want any sea salt ice cream?”

Baby Saix jerks. “What? Why even offer that?”

Demyx digs into his pockets, pulls out a bag. Holds it up. “Have a stick!”

Silence.

Ephemer speaks. “Uh, it’s not blue? That’s brown. I thought it was blue.”

“Huh. So it is.”

The ice cream’s for Saix anyway. He’s sure the man won’t mind if a different Saix ends up with it in the end.

A little explanation, maybe. It’s sea salt ice cream from the world Demyx just visited/fell out of. But also not because he’s too lazy to actually find a store that sells the stuff in whatever world he’s visiting.

Nah, he finds an ice cream place with a willing maker/crafter/whatever who’ll try making him sea salt ice cream from pure description.

Demyx’s returned with some pretty interesting combinations that way. Like this one, not quite blue.

Look, it’s nothing special. Not really. Demyx isn’t even doing any real work, he’s making other people do the work of creating the ice cream. Most of the time it isn’t any good and Demyx just gets to see Saix’s face screw up in disgust at the experimental taste.

Just a joke, just funny.

“It’s homemade,” Demyx tries, shaking the bag. “I’m bringing it for my Saix, the look on his face is going to be hilarious.”

“Your Saix?” Baby Saix, Isa, lifts an eyebrow.

Ephemer, on the other hand, looks almost delighted. “You’re dating him?”

“...maybe?” Demyx tries, suddenly feeling wrong-footed. “What, you want to give me a shovel talk about it?”

Joke’s on them, Rinoa already did that.

“No. Just...” Baby Saix looks pained. “How would I ever want to date someone like you?”

Ah. “Well, I blackmailed him first.”

The looks on their faces-! Demyx almost folds over laughing. Waves a hand. “Nah, nah, it was more than that. I guess it was...”

He looks over at the fountain he sits in, the spray creating a rainbow. “Saw him in a different light, I suppose. He cares a lot but doesn’t care a lot about himself.”

Demyx shrugs again, putting his hands behind his head. His scales are probably pink at this point, oh well. “Need someone lazy like me to remind him to relax. Every once in a while. That’s all.”

“I see,” the grown man says, nodding his head. And it looks like he might, unlike the teenagers. “Yah didn’t use magic on ‘im or anythin’ like that?”

Demyx gives out a surprised laugh. “Nope! Saix would go berserk on my ass if I tried that, ha! The thought!”

Fizzy at the edges. Guess his time is up.

He tucks the bag of ‘sea salt’ ice cream away. Stands up straight.

“Guess it’s time to go! May your heart being your guiding key!”

Fade. Gone.

Back where he should be.

(”Demyx, this tastes like caramel. Did you ask for sea salted caramel?”

“Oops! I might have. Taste good?”

“...not too bad. Come here.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t thank you!”

“You didn’t have to.”)

#my kh fic #my writing #kh demyx #kh isa #kh ephemer #tempests verse #moop verse #tempests crossover #siren vibes demyx go!#demyx being gay also #and kind of observant but also not #he's all over the place today

7 notes · View notes

mildmanneredking · 4 years ago

Text

[Image Description: The image on the left is a picture of my self-insert captain for the Outer Worlds, King. King is pale with cropped hair in an undercut, they have blonde hair in a that is tinged pink on the edges, brown eyes, green triangular glasses frames and small scar on their right eyebrow that leaves a gap in it. King is wearing a dark green jacket with a ribbed pattern in it, a muted, pale green button up underneath, a couple of reddish brown belts for the holster of their pistol, brown and red pants with a ribbed pattern similar to their jacket, and green and brown calf-high boots. King holds a yellow pistol in their right hand, and a mag pick in their left. Kikg stands against a plain brown background with a bored expression as they gaze to the right.

On the right is the same image but with some orange-ish light coming in from the left to imitate sunset.]

[Image Description: The image on the left is a picture of King against a plain grey background, looking forlorn to the left. They’re wearing a different outfit here, which appears to be an orange scarf, a blue-ish white vest or binder with pale orange buttons, and a dark near black sweater underneath; their pants are half blue-ish white and half orange.

The right image is the same image, but with a darker background, with a simple drawing of a white control panel behind King. There is a pale blue light filter over the image that fades near the bottom. There is a caption in pink text of King speaking as they look to the left that reads, “Not much longer. I promise.”]

[Image Description: The image on the left is King in their orange scarf outfit from the previous images, curled up and gripping themself as they shiver. Their teeth are gritted and their eyes are screwed shut. There’s blue jagged lines around their body to highlight how they’re shivering. To theirbleft is a caption that reads: “Always cold/ Gets cold easy”.

On the right is the same image, but King is tinted blue to emphasize exactly how cold their body feels to them]

Finally getting near finishing The Outer Worlds so I had to draw my self-insert captain

Also I bet being frozen for 70 years might have even more of an effect on your body than just cool time dilation powers.

#the outer worlds #tow #the outer worlds captain #kingly art #self insert #my art #artists on tumblr #((this is my first time doing image descriptions so i hope they look ok #((im pretty proud of these overall tbh

53 notes · View notes

timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Text

Grounded: Level 3

Level 2 | Level 4

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526 @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs

[D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 8]

“Do you need me to g-”

“No, please stay.”

Yeonjun turns to look at you, eyebrows furrowing because he can hear the fear in your voice. By now, he’s probably figured out how one-sided you’re feeling about your friendship with Minho. He knows you’re suppressing a backhanded anger for Minho - as much as you’re aware he cannot consistently keep up with your life, it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to drop you a text every now and then.

“Are you sure?” Yeonjun looks up at the person you’re staring at, the distance slowly shrinking as Minho makes up his mind to walk towards the two of you. “I don’t want to be interrupting something important.”

“But he’s not the one who’s been helping me in a time I really need someone,” The thought being verbalised after such a long time leaves a disgusting linger on your tongue.

“Wait, y/n, what does that mean-”

“It means I want him to choose.”

Yeonjun’s frown is now deeper into his forehead. Minho is about twenty metres from you.

“Choose? You can’t expect him to choose between you and his career-”

“Why can’t I?” You are just a few notes lower than actually shouting. He’s about ten metres away now. “It’s been a year and it’s like he doesn’t remember I exist anymore.”

Yeonjun’s dark orbs are faltering as Minho closes in. Then he chooses to say something that deals a last blow to your logic.

“If he’s forgotten about your existence then he wouldn’t be walking here right now.”

The whiplash in your neck shoots bolts into your skull when you suddenly turn to Yeonjun, your breathing becoming labored as Minho stops just about a metre away from you.

“Can we talk?”

The way his voice manages to overwhelm the noise from the crowd is stunning. Then again, you haven’t heard him actually speak to you in about a year; it makes your heart want to stick itself through your chest like the Alien.

“I’m surprised you’re even allowed to walk around in public without bodyguards.”

From the corner of your eye, you note Yeonjun turning his head away in slight frustration or disapproval. Minho shuts his eyes for a moment, like he’s guilty and he’s mustering up the courage to continue.

“Contrary to popular belief, Stray Kids has a long way to go.”

The awkwardness in the air stings your nerves like water through dry, cracked skin.

“Can we please... talk? I just... I know that I haven’t been around, especially when you needed help with training.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I have Yeonjun to help me.”

Using Yeonjun as a shield doesn’t make you feel any better though. Instead, it hurts you more when you notice the hurt that’s beginning to brew in Minho’s face, despite half his face being covered by his mask.

“And I’m happy for you,” Minho glances at Yeonjun, whose face was slightly contorted with a mixture of frustration and disapproval. He’s going to kill you when you get back to BigHit, but not in front of a debuted idol; not in front of a crowd. “But... I just wish we could go back to the way we were-”

Minho’s voice falters, and it’s a heavy blow on your angry stance in his presence. Starting to hear your heart in your left eye socket, the eyelid starts to twitch, and you can feel your nerves beginning to pull you backwards - away from Minho.

The conflict within you crushes you faster than you expected - if you were even prepared for it at all.

I hate it that I was the one who pushed you for it. I hate it that I was the one who told you to keep going. I hate it that I was the one who got so happy when you finally reached your dream. I hate it that I was the one who got mad when you prioritised your career. I hate it that I was the one who understood why you did it. I hate it that I was the one who chose to press and pull and pinch this friendship until it’s hurting me.

I hate it that it looks like it’s hurting you... more than it’s hurting me.

“I won’t be where I am without you. I wouldn’t be standing here, worried about people figuring out who I am... Had you not given me the strength to go back.”

But you’ve always been the one who’s given me strength, not me to you.

“I just wish we had more time,” He’s shaking his head ever so slightly, eyes finally travelling down when he realises he cannot maintain his disintegrating pride. “Please... I can’t- I can’t lose you. You’re one my best friends and I just... I can’t meet up with you as often as I do with my male friends because we’d both be screwed by the public-”

“And so... You forget that texting is a thing? Calling, maybe?”

Yeonjun sucks in a deep breath and intervenes, unable to contain his discontent with the way the conversation was developing. “y/n, he’s busy. He’s got a bunch of schedules to handle when he’s not vlogging his own private life. Give him a break.”

“A break?” It hurts on your heart because you were no longer sure where this anger was coming from. “Yeah, damn right he got a big break.”

“y/n!” Yeonjun snaps angrily, finally grabbing on your arm and nearly manhandling you backwards, away from Minho, like you were a feral dog.

Minho’s eyes are set on the way Yeonjun’s staring at you, while your tear-glazed eyes are flitting from Yeonjun to your best friend - or at least, who was once your best friend.

You don’t realise it until Yeonjun’s grip on your arm is holding you still - your arm was already trembling from the sheer amount of emotions ripping through you in the face of Minho.

“If you have nothing better to say, then have this conversation another day. Right now, you’re being an ass and I would’ve slapped you if we were related.”

Aggressively yanking your arm out of Yeonjun’s hold, you shift backwards and glare at Minho. Angry that he’s not spared the minimum effort to reach out to you, you turn before he can see the first tear fall from your eyes.

From afar, you can hear Minho say something to Yeonjun, but his voice is washed out by the swarming crowd as you rush through it in a bid to run back to your safe haven - right back to somewhere you’ve been emotionally condemning Minho for going to.

How ironic.

Once out along the streets and a safe distance away from the night market, the cold, almost-freezing air is threatening to solidify your tears on your cheeks. The bus stop is desolate, one of those stops that nobody waits at: that was how far you had run from where the night market was.

The familiar pattern of shoes rustling and shuffling against the floor rushes nearby, then finally slows down to a stop next to you. Your gloves are stained with the tears had stained your face when you recklessly wipe them away, not bothering about how people probably already recognise you as a BigHit trainee.

Yeonjun’s breathing calms from running after you, and you can feel his gaze tear through you, though in a different way than what Minho did.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A sniffle clogs your nose. “No.”

“He cares, you know,” A pause. The tears run. “But what you said to him back there...”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him look down at his feet and shake his head, his slightly tousled hair from the rushing bobbing up and down.

“It wasn’t fair to him.”

Yeonjun’s comment weighed a billion tons your heart, for you know in the deepest crevices in your chest that it, in fact, was not fair.

A wince prowls over your face as you provide some kind of effort into hiding the sudden contortion when the need to cry overwhelms you. It takes you awhile to notice that the gleams in your eyes were no longer just the tears but also the snow that’s landing on the floor around your feet.

Eyebrows furrowed and eyes finally clenched shut, your lips part to suck in the deepest, coldest breath you’ve ever taken. It feels like you’ve single-handedly destroyed the most important friendship in your life and there’s nothing you could do about it.

The breath exhaled is a thick, almost cotton-like cloud as your head hangs lower and lower until you feel a heavy scarf come around your neck. Yeonjun’s questionable boots come before yours as he wraps his scarf around you, gently patting you on the crown of your head.

“I know you have feelings for him. It’s the only reason why you’re reacting like this.”

In attempt to hide your frustration, you shove your hands into your pockets and clench your fists under the thick layer of the gloves.

“But like I said before, y/n... If you’re doing this for him and not for yourself, then this isn’t an option,” He finally releases the scarf and takes a small step back. “You sign that contract and you’ll need to go through Hell just to get out of it.”

Relentless now, the tears. The snot’s that’s running down your philtrum’s staining his scarf too but- he probably can’t care less. You can’t care less. He’s seen right through you like glass and Minho- of all people- can’t see through you the same way Yeonjun does.

The sound of cars whizzing past and people walking by was strangely comforting, albeit the storms and thunder claps in your head and heart. You’ve just flushed your friendship with Minho down the toilet bowl, and there was probably nothing that could atone for it.

“Come on,” He starts, just loud enough for you to hear. “Let’s head back. The members are around, your trainees too- Hey, I heard the Bangtan hyungs are coming back tonight to celebrate the New Year with us.”

Great, another reminder.

“Right,” You sniffle loudly and carelessly wipe away your mucus and tears, forcing a smile out through all that tainted happiness. “Haven’t seen them in awhile.”

Yeonjun looks back at you with eyes that know how you’re feeling, and he offers you one of his arms for you to slide under so he could protect you from all the ache in your chest.

[F E B R U A R Y 2 0 1 9]

스트레이키즈 현진 졸업식, '막내 아이엔이랑 왔어요'(Stray Kids, SOPA Graduation)

A scoff runs dry your lips, eyes travelling from the pixelated screen to the boy sitting next to you, swinging his legs childishly while sitting atop the railings.

It’s fascinating, the way the school structured it’s pick up system. Idols or idol trainees could wait in a designated area for their respective vehicles or cars to come pick them up from the pick-up point - you were just lucky enough to know enough of these people to wait with them.

“What?” Hyunjin whines, lips twisted downwards like those ‘colon and bracket’ sad faces. “It’s not my fault you watch so much Stray Kids’ content.”

Jeongin was fiddling with his sleeve when he finally looks up at you, and the boy decides to slap you across the face with words that you would’ve otherwise slapped him for.

“But don’t you only watch Lee Know hyung’s stuff?”

Hyunjin’s eyes dart to the younger, sucking his lips between in his teeth in a bid to hide his cheeky smirk.

“Man’s got a point.”

“You two have a death wish.”

“Bye, Stray Kids!” You turn to see Daehwi and Woojin rushing for a black van. “Bye, y/n! I hope to see you on stage soon!”

“I’ll think about it!” Waving back aggressively, Daehwi giggles as he gets into the car after Woojin.

Hyunjin, Jeongin and you wave at the passengers of the van as they drive off. Hyunjin was holding a bag full of bouquets whilst you were holding just two, one that Yeonjun and TXT had delivered and another from your fellow trainees.

“You’re still thinking about that contract?”

“You make it sound like I’m thinking of buying a piece of clothing.”

“It’s just... you’ve gone so far. You’ve been training for- what? 2 years now? Stopping now would render your two years of training useless.”

“Look, I just need more time to... decide.”

Both boys turn to look at you, one obviously more aware of the situation than the other. Hyunjin’s brows are slightly furrowed when he can hear the weight in your voice.

His lips are parted just before he can say something, but a honk beeps him out of his train of thought.

“Oh! He’s here!” Jeongin hops off the railings and rushes to the side of the pavement.

Hyunjin jumps off and turns to you first, eyes calming scanning your face that’s struggling to hide any hint of emotion.

“I think you should talk to him. He’s as upset and bothered about it as you are.”

Their pick-up stops right before Jeongin, who pulls open the door and climbs in first.

Unable to set down your pride, you choose to look away, not noticing Hyunjin leaning into the car to get something before he climbs in himself.

“This,” He holds out a bouquet of roses and baby breaths wrapped in white and blue.

For me?

“This is his apology. I think you have a part to play in this too.”

“Hyunjin-ah, time to go,” The manager calls out from inside, greeting you with a small wave from the drivers’ seat. Your smile is weak with the flowers in your hands, and Hyunjin gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder before he gets in the car again.

Waving to Jeongin who was waving to you through the back window of the car, you can feel the weight of the flowers in your arm. After the car is out of sight, you look down and inspect the gift, picking out a small card with Minho’s handwriting on it.

Happy Graduation! I hope you’re doing alright, and that you’re taking care of yourself well. I heard you’re still training at BigHit, and Yeonjun told Changbin that he’s debuting soon... which means he’s not around much to help you so, if you ever need help, you know who to look for.

Love, Minho

Another horn blares you out of your raging calm - it’s your pick-up. Clutching the flowers tightly, there’s a growing desire to get to the point where he inspired you to work towards.

[M A R C H 2 0 1 9]

Surprise 모두 기립 박수

Suicide squad 현실판에

Frightening Let’s get burning now

The adrenaline is rushing through you a thousand miles per hour, any more and you could probably phase through a wall or something. It looks satisfying in the mirror, probably later when you monitor your progress but right now, all you were worried about were your arm angles and how your head isn’t moving according to the be--

Click

Two familiar heads of brown locks strut into the practise room, completely not fazing your lonesome performance in the sickening room.

“Wow, ATEEZ?” Soobin chuckles as he walks in after Yeonjun.

“I- It’s a- It’s a good song to practise my- stamina-” This last San bit is a pain in the ass.

“But an ATEEZ song?” Yeonjun winces at you through the reflection in the mirror as he watches you thud to the floor at the end of the performance. The music comes to a halt, slightly echoing in the studio. “It’s like you’re practising for a marathon.”

“Well,” There is an apparent struggle to catch your breath while you remain on the floor, eyes looking up at the two boys. “Let’s just say if it’s one thing I’m getting an A for tomorrow at my evaluation, it’s going to be dancing, so...”

“That sounds like you,” Soobin nudges Yeonjun as he stretches a palm out for you to take.

“Whoa,” Strutting over to your bottle by the mirror, you pull the cap off and raise a teasing brow at Soobin. “I don’t think you can ever compare me with the top trainee of BigHit.”

Soobin giggles at Yeonjun rolling his eyes in the mirror, just short of hurling something at you before he tackles you over and messes up your sweaty hair. But TXT was so well-received in their debut, it almost hurt to believe that you could be debuting as their first sister group.

“How are your vocals and rapping? Didn’t you say they’ll only make you do monthly evaluations after you sign the contract?” The plastic bag that you didn’t notice from before gets taken away by Soobin, and he fishes out some bottles of energy drinks and some sandwiches.

“I could be better at singing... I assume... Yeah, no- I... I asked for the monthly evaluations.”

“What?” Soobin’s eyes are adorably enlarged, twice their original size. “Are you nuts? Just what have you gotten yourself into? My God, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“I would second that,” Yeonjun points to you after pointing to Soobin with his thumb over his shoulder. “But, it’s a great way to maintain your progress.”

Then he goes over to sit down next to Soobin near the sound system. “Got anything you need help with?”

“Uh...” Running your fingers through your greasy hair, you rest your free hand on your hip, running the songs through your head like an archive.

“Are you performing 3 songs for each category or- You’re not singing, rapping and dancing to ATEEZ, are you?!”

“The Hell- No!” You chuckle and wave the nonsensical conclusion off.

“Oh, thank God,” Yeonjun clutches his chest. “Else, you could probably pack up and move out of your dorms by tomorrow evening.”

“If it’s one thing I’m getting that A for, it’s dancing. So... I could get all the help I could get.”

Yeonjun strolls towards the sound system where the player was, scrolling through the list of songs that were most commonly played.

And so, Yeonjun and Soobin watch you slide across the floor while performing an EXO song, sing a song from HONNE, and completely forgo the rap section. Soobin’s tears of laughter stained the floorboards as Yeonjun rushes after you in a bid to tackle you and ruffle your already messy hair, because how dare you forget that rapping is a thing!

When they leave for their own training, the coolness of the studio finally sinks in after another long day. Your earbuds are finally useful now, after hours and hours of nothing but loud blasting so you can deafen and annoy yourself with the same songs over and over.

난 알고 있어도 날 볼 수가 없어

답답해 제발 딱 한 번만

The studio lights are still finding some way to seep through your lids despite them being shut, and his voice feels like you’ve been pulled through Hell just to reach Heaven. But the lyrics have etched itself into your brain like carvings into stone, and it keeps you awake at night.

Maybe you were overthinking, feeling all his emotions in those two lines he got in that song. But you heard something, even if it was just in your head, it was something.

He looks different now. The way he’s on stage, the way his nerves shift along with the beat, the way his voice comes out louder but still quieter than his heart and the thoughts in his head. He was never one to actually vocalise his feelings until he hits his tipping point... so, it’s a new kind of sour or bitter or all the tastes you dislike that lingers on your tongue.

Lee Minho, you are one of a kind.

Tiredness gets the better of you when you are aware you’re slowly drifting off to sleep. Your muscles have ached to the point where you no longer feel the pain; they just feel numb. The world starts to feel lighter, even if its the tiniest bit, as the exhausting slumber claims you...

Thus, it’s a startling surprise when you are jolted out of your sleep by someone tapping on your shoulders, and you are sure your eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh, y/n!” It’s Jung Hoseok, J-Hope of BTS. “My God, did you sleepover?!”

“Oh- I-” You pull your phone out of your pocket, realising it’s dead. “I guess I did... What time is it?”

Hoseok immediately helps you up to your feet when he sees you struggling to get up, hair messy and smelling disgusting, probably. “Um, it’s 11am.”

“WHAT-” Hoseok hops back in surprise when you nearly yell in his face, and you fumble around to collect your things to return to the dorms to wash up, only for you to come back and continue before you were royally screwed over by the judging panel. “11?! I have an evaluation at 2pm!”

“Wait, y/n! Didn’t you ask for this evaluation yourself? There isn’t a need to worry if you can’t make it for an unofficial one-”

“No, but I- I worked hard for this-” Grabbing your speaker and phone and charger and earpiece and earbuds and clothes and knee guards, you can feel the stress building up like Jenga in your stomach. “I can’t not get that A for dance at least-”

Then you are one feet out of the studio before you abruptly run into someone, nearly smashing your shoulder into the unknown stranger.

That is, until you look up in a bid to apologise out of politeness.

But then there it is again, those dark brown feline eyes. It’s like you’ll never escape them; it’s like you’d always run into them when you least expect to.

“Minho.”

He blinks, obviously surprised.

“y/n,” He glances above your head, possibly looking at J-Hope, before looking back down at you. “Are you... okay? You look like-”

“Shit?”

Minho purses his lips, unable to contain the little smirk that surfaces in the corner of his mouth before he panics and covers the bottom half of his face. Even you weren’t sure if you were making a joke about yourself, or that you were genuinely trying to rub it in his face that your friendship was as good as gone.

“I was... going to say exhausted. But I assume you already know that?”

Tired, you run your hand through your slightly greasy hair, your bag slung messily over your shoulder. “Yes, I’m aware. And I have an evaluation to worry about in three hours so... I gotta bolt.”

It feels like you’re trying to shift mountains, looking at him in the eye. He isn’t that much taller but there’s definitely something different about him. Not to say that he was looking down on you, but he now walks with confidence on his shoulders and pride in his heart, and no matter how much you detested him for forgetting that you existed, you were happy for him.

But of course, you’re prideful yourself, so you choose to look down and walk away from him.

It’s time to worry about myself.

#skz #stray kids lee know #lee know scenarios #lee know #skz lee know #skz lee minho #stray kids #lee know fanfic

30 notes · View notes

otaku553 · 5 years ago

Text

Dreamy Gear Waddle Dee and Dedede are here! I’ll do Daroach and Magolor next :D If you’re looking for Kirby and Meta Knight, they’re over here.

Design process under the cut again!

So with Dee, I knew I wanted them to be young, but still older than Kirby since they seem to explain stuff to Kirby. I settled on the age of 14, which would make them young but still old enough to work as a mechanic (sort of) and knowledgable enough about the world to explain things to Kirby (but still having the naivety of a child). You can see that I kept making Dee taller and taller in every iteration XD

I wanted to keep the bandana in there somewhere, so I made it a scarf under the collar of their shirt. Dee’s design was sort of difficult because I still wanted to keep a somewhat gender-neutral design. A lot of the fashions I saw either leaned towards masculine or feminine, and nothing much in between. I settled on more masculine clothes because it would make more sense for a mechanic at the time, but tried to keep some of the gender-neutral aspect through their coat.

The hair turned out shorter than I would usually draw their hair, but much longer than Kirby’s anyways, since short hair was much more popular at the time. I wanted it to fit nicely with the cap, and I’m pretty happy with it!

I think at first I was thinking that Waddle Dee would be sort of middle class, which is why I had that vest. It looked too formal though. Since they were a mechanic, but still young, I reconsidered. They were probably lower-middle class or so, especially considering the sewn in patch on their hat. I tried to include the sewn patch motif in several places, since it would really drive home that they didn’t really have the money to replace their coat. I like to think that they’re reasonable and would’ve saved up enough for one by now, but they also always buy food for Kirby, so they’re sort of giving up some luxuries to make sure Kirby is alright.

The discovery of overalls was amazing. It fits them so well! I was a bit worried that they wouldn’t maintain as much of their color pallette without the coat though, so I made the suspenders colored, to keep some of that orange. Overall, I’m pretty proud of this design!

Dedede’s design is where I realized I sort of screwed up?? Aviator hats didn’t become a thing until early 20th century which yeah is pretty close to what I had of like the 1890s, but not quite there. Oh well. Anyways, I saw this really nice image of a vintage pilot, and I thought that suited Dedede perfectly. Not only did it keep that nice formal looking suit that a president of a factory would have, it had fur!! which is a must in any Dedede design. So there wasn’t as much research into the styles for this. I ended up hiding the inner jacket layer so that the vest would be more visible. I also made the zigzag pattern a vest instead of a sash because I thought it made more sense that way. I wanted to keep it as close to the official render as possible so I kept the belt buckles on the vest, but I personally don’t think the buckles are really accurate for the time period-- I’m not sure though.

It’s subtle but there’s also pockets on the coat, which I think he stores his gloves in. Hmm, I thought I should maybe put the goggles on the aviator hat in one ref image, but the big ornate bulb thing at the front would probably impede that. There’s also the black fur on the coat! Just to give a more classy look. The collar can also be flipped up for a high collar to protect him from the wind. My priority with the coat was to make it practical while looking classy, so it can close all the way.

That’s most of it! Thanks for reading, if you did. I love seeing people appreciate the thought I put into these because I really try my best.

In other news, I started a fic! It’s just about cute interactions between Dreamy Gear Meta and Kirby, which is a dynamic I really want to see. It’s also got a summary of the Dreamy Gear novel in it, but I am not going to link it because my account is cringe. I’m not hard to find at all, so if you do go looking for it, you won’t really need any hints.

#kirby #kirby gijinka #king dedede #dedede gijinka #waddle dee #waddle dee gijinka #bandana dee gijinka #bandana waddle dee gijinka #bandana dee #bandana waddle dee #kirby dreamy gear

321 notes · View notes

xxtha-blog · 4 years ago

Text

So apperently I wrote a oneshot fanfic and forgot about it for almost 2 years

And because it's comedy fucking gold, and also some quality post-comic Ace content, I thought I'd share it with you people here.

Without further adieu, may I present to you

A Casual Encounter With Ace

Ink knew very little of Ace. He had met him once, briefly, in the last moments before his AU disappeared into nothingness, Ace sneaking through the portal Dream had created and slipping away from the destruction of his own home like it was nothing more than an average Saturday. Ink barely had the chance to talk to him, didn’t even know his name, he just knew that there was a flamboyant top hat wearing skeleton that enjoyed stealing things and harassing Dream, prancing around the multiverse and causing chaos with no restrictions. Of course, Ink planned to catch him… eventually… if he hadn’t forgotten… multiple times. But it was Ace who seemed to catch him instead.

Ink had been sitting in the snow, crouched behind the trees of Underswap, checking up on the stability of the timeline, when he heard a voice behind him. At first, he thought it was Blue, the only one who would know to look for him there, but the accent threw him off. Ink turned slowly, curious, and saw the black and red skeleton leaning against his staff behind him, smiling modestly as he surveyed the rest of the underground as Ink did.

Ink paused for a second. “Hey– Don’t I know you…?” He tapped a pencil against his chin, working with all his might to remember.

“Perhaps, dear sir, perhaps indeed, for I am quite popular, simply ask my wonderous fans, who may be reading this right now! Which does remind me, do you ever realize that we transcend not only drawings and comic books, but also code, writing, and animations. It’s quite crazy when you think about it, I mean, just look at you. What? One of the most popular characters in the entire fandom created by a mere teenager! Mind boggling and simply astounding, our existence, both of us in fact, relies only on two simple teenagers bringing us to life.” Ace talked mellifluously, his accent smooth and precise, as though someone had mashed together a French and British accent and added a gay flare to it. He talked incredibly fast, as though to confuse everyone with his slur of words, despite them not being slurred in the slightest.

Ink stood up, brushing the snow off his sweater. “Wait a second!” He glanced up again his eyes widening. “Aren’t you that magician guy?!”

Ace tilted his head, intrigued.

“Aha!” Ink declared in triumph. “I finally found you!”

“Magician guy is quite vague. And a guy, no, no, dear sir, not at all, I simply am I, an illusionist, a magician, a slight bit insane, but far saner than you, so I must ask for you to be a tad bit more specific for fear I may misinterpret what you wish to say and be unable to reply!” Ace spun his staff around, giving Ink a slight smirk.

“You’re from that AU- Oh what was it.” Ink spun his hands through the air, churning his memory around. “Magicwhatever, Lucktale, Underchance, Chancyluck, Chance, Chance something, Chancetale-? CHANCETALE!” He put his hands on his hips proudly.

“A dead name, no?” Ace raised his eye sockets into a quizzical expression.

“I mean, yeah, but you’re still here, which means you’re screwing up timelines. Which means I gotta stop ya!” With a quick flip of his arm behind his head, Ink pulled his paintbrush out in front of him and pointed it towards Ace.

“Stop me? Stop me! Oh, how wonderful!” Ace’s eyes lit up as he spun on his heel with glee.

“You’re supposed to be worried,” Ink pointed out. “Like, oh no he’s going to catch me?! Whatever shall I do! And then I go, heck yeah I’m going to catch you! Because I’ve got a super cool paintbrush!”

“I dare say you do not.”

“What do you mean? My paintbrush is awesome, I mean just look at it–" he stopped. "Where’s my paintbrush?” Ink’s hands were empty, his fingers grasping at the cold air around them and nothing more. He wondered if his memory had lapsed again, but he could have sworn he had just been holding it. He reached back only to grasp at the air once more.

Ace casually spun the paintbrush in his hands, still standing stationary a dozen or so feet away, studying the fine patterns on the metal clasps. “Quite a nice paintbrush, indeed, I do not disagree with that, however, you do not have it, therefore your statement was false.” Without another word, the paintbrush disappeared into thin air, and Ace merely tilted his top hat.

Ink started to take things a little more seriously, his smile fading. He straightened. “This’ll be interesting.”

“Oh, tis always interesting when I’m here! Just ask your dear friend Dream!”

“We’re not really friends,” Ink said with a shrug. “He just happens to be useful sometimes.”

“Oh my! What wonderful news we have here! I’ll be sure to keep it in mind to use against you so that I can slowly break apart your relationship until you are both mortal enemies in which case I can use your turmoil to my advantage!” He clasped his hands together, smiling softly, before adding, "If need be."

Ink stared for a second. “You know if you really want to be evil, you shouldn’t announce what you’re going to do out loud.”

“Evil? No, I’m not evil. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever consider myself to be evil, for that would mean I am profoundly immoral, and although I am profound, immoral I am not. I know precisely what is right and wrong, and good and bad, and have no trouble discerning between the two. I simply choose to do good and choose to do bad based on the situation and outcome it will provide me, and dear sir, it is quite a bore to be simply one or the other, is it not? I mean, you’re one to speak, think of the things you have done and the people you have hurt for your own benefit, quite chaotic indeed, but not evil. Few would call the fabulous Ink evil. Therefore I am not evil. I am just spontaneous, whether that be something pleasant or something disagreeable.”

“You really do talk a lot,” Ink said, crossing his arms.

“Tis a showman thing.”

“Showman?”

“Oh! Would you like to see a show?!”

“Not really. I was in the middle of–”

Ace clapped his hands together cutting Ink off, his staff forming between his palms as he pulled them apart. He twirled his staff like a baton before stamping it down into the snow and pulling his top hat off his head, taking a slight bow before beginning, “A magic show! For the fabulous Encre!”

Ace began to perform his dazzling illusions. As real as reality, yet as mad as a dream. He swept up beside Ink and before Ink could say a word, slipped his scarf right over his head and turned it a kaleidoscope of brown butterflies. Ink went to protest, but a butterfly zipped over top of his mouth and turned into a brown piece of duct tape. The rest of the butterflies froze, falling to ice cubes on the ground before bursting into tiny glass shards that glimmered with little lights.

“Butterflies were not meant for the underground! How unfortunate. The terms and conditions said nothing about turning to glass, however! Then again, I did not read them. Alas, now I must clean this all up.” Ace spun back around Ink, standing over top of the pile of glass shards.

Ink shouted, but his words came out as muffled gibberish. He tried to pull the duct tape off, but it refused to budge. He waved his arms around, exasperated.

“What’s that dear sir? You wish to see more magic tricks? Well, I wish to perform more as well!” Ace spread his arms out, the glass shards levitating off the ground around him before spinning into a small ball and transforming into a lightbulb above Ace's fingertips. He caught it out of the air, studying it closely, before looking back up at Ink.

“I would put this above my head and say I do so happen to have an idea, but that would be terribly cliché, would it not?”

“Mphfffff!”

“I wholeheartedly agree! I’ll put it inside my mouth instead!”

Ace slipped the lightbulb between his teeth, smiling deviously.

“Now dear sir,” he said with zero hindrance, despite the lightbulb clamped between his teeth. “It is a well-known fact that when one puts a lightbulb inside their mouth, it shall go in quite fine and then never ever come out again in one piece! Today I am here to prove that theory wrong and promote the putting of light bulbs in your mouth everywhere!” Ace let out a small laugh before quickly inhaling the lightbulb.

Ink’s eyes narrowed, giving up his attempts to talk through the duct tape.

“Where ever has it gone? Ah! I know!” Ace reaches a hand inside his left eye socket and pulls the lightbulb into the place his heart-shaped pupil should have been.

“And now to turn it on!”

With a slight flick of his wrist, Ace summoned an egg out of midair, then cracked it against the nearest tree. From the cracked shell sprang a toaster, which Ace caught in his hands as though he had done this many a time. He quickly plugged the toaster into the tree and waited a few seconds, but nothing seemed to happen.

Ink watched, both baffled and annoyed, only able to express his feelings through a few grunts and shakes of his head. Ink had seen many things over his life, AUs full of nothing but Sanses, characters made of watermelons, atrocious crossovers, but nothing quite as strange as this.

“Oh, I see what I’m doing wrong! Forgive me, dear sir, I have never used a toaster in my life! I run solely off of white chocolate!” Ace unplugged the toaster from the tree and threw it as far as he could muster. “Farewell, dear toast maker. I shall miss thee.”

He reached inside the small red pouch on his shirt, barely bigger than a golf ball, and pulled a full sized hair dryer.

Why do you have a hairdryer?! Ink shouted, his eyes wide, but it simply came out as “Wff duh vu hvv a her dyr?!”

“For this, dear sir, why else.” Ace put the end of the hairdryer up to his eye and turned it on. It wasn’t plugged into anything, the cord dangling around Ace's ankles. As the hairdryer whirred to life, the light bulb flickered on.

Ace pulled the hair dryer away, making it disappear into a flurry of little pink sparkles before taking a long bow, one of his eyes now made of a little yellow glowing light bulb.

Ink clapped sarcastically.

“Why thank you! Thank you! Truly an amusing time we've had here today!” He pranced over to Ink, patting him on the head twice. When Ink tried to grab him, his entire vision spun around and he was suddenly facing the complete opposite direction.

“Now, now, that’s no way to treat someone who just performed for you.”

Ink turned on his heels, looking around for Ace, but he was nowhere to be seen. The piece of duct tape had vanished.

“Farewell, dear Ink, until you wish for another magic show!”

The voice came from nowhere and echoed throughout the trees before fading into nothingness. On the ground, there was a small paper card. Ink bent over and picked it up, flipping it open. Inside was a tiny brush, smaller than a thumbtack, taped to the inside of the card with a small heart and delicate cursive handwriting: I believe this belonged to you?

#undertale #chancetale fanfic #chancetale writing #Ace and Ink #Chancetale fic #Fanfic #undertale au #Please dont eat lightbulbs

47 notes · View notes