Latest Posts by maxthetrainwreck - Page 4
Stephanie has got a gun, tra-la-la-la how fun 🎶
If you guys liked the whole "Stephs flannel matches Peter's suspenders and bow tie" thing then this costuming detail is in tgwdlm gonna fuck you up.
When we get our first scene with Paul and Emma, the two are dressed in their respective main outfits. These are the ones people tend to associate with them.
But throughout the show, as they get closer and bond, their outfits become more and more similar. Pretty soon Emma's lost the apron
Then at the professor's house, Paul loses the jacket
and by the time McNamara is infected, Paul has his sleeves rolled up and Emma's bow tie has come undone.
At this point, the two are at their most aesthetically similar, and also the closest they've been the entire show. This is moments before the helicopter crash and their failed kiss. They remain this way for a good chunk of time...until Paul comes back
It's like some fast-paced foreshadowing. Emma remains in her changed state, the same as her character, but Paul is back to square one. He's wearing the same outfit he was when they met, and they no longer align. She doesn't know who he is anymore.
I don't know if this was intentional (and if it was, no one explained it to Jon) but it plays out so damn well.
”I’m gay” “I’m straight” ok???? I’m gonna bury the body??? Right here in the lobby!!! Underneath the wooden floor where his corpse will rot?!!?
⚠️ IMPORTANT⚠️
Since Cinderellas Castle has hit $500,000+ which is double their goal, I would like to draw attention to Operation Olive Branch
We have so many Starkids and we have the ability to support those in need. Please consider donating to these gofundmes and help Palestinian families escape genocide. If you are unable to donate, please reblog and share the google spreadsheet.
All eyes on Rafah. Free Palestine.
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1vtMLLOzuc6GpkFySyVtKQOY2j-Vvg0UsChMCFst_WLA/htmlview
Screen caps from stream where I discussed finding shapes in your reference to make character designs! (Featuring pres of Hatchetfield Boating Society)
Prophets AU
despite being interviewed individually, all four gave the exact same response
Hyperfixation is taking control of me
Wilbur Cross (Uncle Wiley) stimboard
✭ with related stims
✫ RQ'd by @silamander !
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ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
stephgrace stimboard :3
⛧ with sapphic stims !
☾ rq'd by anon !
x | x | x
! | x | !
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stephgrace stimboard :3
⛧ with flower stims !
☾ rq'd by anon !
x | x | x
! | x | !
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Finished the PerfectDolls animatic!!! scrapped a huge part of it but the explanation is in the desc <3
stephgrace stimboard :3
⛧ with ice cream & beach stims !
☾ rq'd by anon !
x | x | x
! | x | !
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Can relate cause this is how I got on the Lautity train 😅
The Perfectdolls fan to Lautity fan pipeline is real
The Perfectdolls fan to Lautity fan pipeline is real
stephgrace stimboard :3
⛧ with pink & green agere stims !
☾ rq'd by anon !
x | x | x
! | x | !
x | x | x
Another Max and Steph roleswap au snippet, it’s slowly but surely coming together :)
(Part 1 for anyone who hasn’t read it)
He leans over and squints to see Richie’s work, but doesn’t get very far before he hears someone yell, “Cheaters!” and jumps slightly. He glances behind him to see Grace Chasity scowling at him and shaking her head disapprovingly.
“Oh, hey, Grace,” he says, flashing what he hopes is a charming grin “this isn’t what it looks like.”
“First you try to cheat on the test and now you’re lying about it? See, it’s a slippery slope. This is for your own good,” she replies, raising her voice to yell, “Miss Mulberry, they’re cheating!”
Miss Mulberry gives them a severe look that’s more directed at Max than Richie, but still sends them both to the principal’s office. As they’re waiting outside, Richie hunches over slightly and crosses his arms, scratching at them.
“What, have you never been in trouble before?” says Max “it’s gonna be like two hours detention, tops.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Richie snaps back “you’re the mayor’s son! For some of us lowly peasants, academic misconduct has actual consequences.”
He’s called in and emerges a few minutes later, still not looking too pleased, but substantially less tense.
“You were right,” he grumbles, “two hours’ detention. I guess it’s not the end of the world.”
Max heads in next and principal Blim beckons him to take a seat.
“Hi, Max, long time no see,” he says “if only we could have kept it that way. You know, there’s help available if you were struggling with the material. Why didn’t you seek it out instead of resorting to cheating?”
Because everyone else seems to get it to varying degrees and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t. Because he’s so lost that he doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know - he wouldn’t know what questions to ask and he can’t pinpoint where he’s struggling when every concept in that class is incomprehensible to him. Because Steph never asks for help with school stuff and he shouldn’t need it, either. He should be able to figure it out like a proper Lauter.
“Desperate times?” he says with a shrug and an impish smile. Principal Blim’s expression remains stern.
“This is no laughing matter,” he says “per school policy, academic misconduct on any test is an automatic zero, which brings your grade down to an F and officially puts you on academic probation. If you can’t bring your grades up within the next couple weeks, you’ll be sitting out the rest of the volleyball season and you can forget about lacrosse. Beyond that, if you can’t turn things around by the end of the semester, we might need to start thinking about having you repeat your senior year.”
“You mean, uh, getting held back?” He can hear his heart pounding in his ears. His muscles tense and he starts to feel dizzy. He tries to take slow, even breaths without being too obvious about it.
“Well, we don’t really like to use that terminology anymore, but essentially, yes,” principal Blim replies.
Next time someone refers to him as a Lauter, he’ll be sure to correct them. He doesn't deserve to be called one. Solomon basically saved him and all he asks in return is that Max stay out of trouble and not flunk out of school and he couldn’t even manage that. He tries so hard to make him proud, but all he’s done is embarrass and burden him.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll get them up,” he says, although he has no idea how he’s going to swing it in such a short time “so, do I have detention or…?” He knows the answer.
“I spoke to your father and we agreed this is punishment enough,” principal Blim replies. Oh, God, he’s not looking forward to that conversation. For once, he actually hopes Solomon is too busy with politics to make an appearance at home. With his luck, today will be the one day he bothers.
“Okay,” he says. Principal Blim dismisses him and Richie’s still waiting just outside, flipping through some kind of comic book.
“What are you still doing here?” he asks.
Richie glances up from his reading. “Well, there’s no point in going back to class now, I’m getting a zero on that quiz regardless.”
Max smiles sheepishly again. “Sorry,” he says.
“Well, whatever, I agreed to it,” Richie says with a sigh “at worst it’ll knock my grade down to an A minus. Honestly, I’m more worried about the attention this is going to attract.”
“You don’t want to attract attention?”
“Uh, no,” Richie says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I want to be invisible. It’s the only way to survive this hellscape. You wouldn’t get it. You have mayor’s kid privilege and cool kid privilege.”
“Well, if you wanna be invisible, why do you wear a Hawaiian shirt and a vest to school everyday?”
“Hey, the layers are an essential part of the whole equation,” Richie replies indignantly “I can kind of, I don’t know, disappear into them? Besides that, it’s a comfort thing. Like a weighted blanket. Or a hug.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. I’m not much of a hugger, though.” It’s technically not a lie, although it’s more for a lack of opportunity than anything else. He’s not super close with the guys from either of his teams and their physical contact is mostly limited to high fives and chest bumps and maybe the occasional bro hug after a really good game. Solomon’s never hugged him, but sometimes he’ll briefly put an arm around his shoulders or affectionately ruffle his hair when they’re out in public and he thinks there might be reporters around. If he’s lucky, he’ll get a reluctant hug from Steph, but only if they’re making a public appearance and Solomon forces her. She’s initiated exactly one willingly and he still treasures the memory. Sophomore year, on his mom’s birthday, she busted into the boy’s bathroom in search of any geeks who might be hiding in the stalls and instead found him in there all alone, hunched over the sink, sniffling pathetically as he tried and failed to make the tears stop flowing and splashing warm water on his face so that it wouldn’t be too obviously red and puffy. She rolled her eyes and told him to cut it out before anyone saw him being such a little bitch, but still wrapped her arms around him more tenderly than many people would think her capable. “It sucks, I know,” she’d said. To this day, she refuses to acknowledge that it ever happened.
“Whatcha reading?” Max asks.
“Oh, uh, Haikyuu. It’s a sports manga about a high school volleyball team.”
“Oh, that’s sick,” he says, flashing that bright, sincere smile once more “maybe I’ll read it sometime! Steph always says that stuff is for weebs and losers, but she didn’t tell me they made sports manga. And about volleyball? That’s my thing!” He thinks it’s kind of cool that somebody out there is invested enough in high school volleyball to make a series about it and, presumably, at least a handful of people are invested enough to read it. See, people do care about it.
“Yeah, it’s really good. I actually almost tried out for the team because of it, but nerds aren’t allowed to go out for sports.”
Max frowns. “Aw, bummer! I guess it’s too late to join now, but if you want to play sometime, maybe we could get a game going with some of the guys from the team. Just for fun. If you want to.”
Richie shakes his head. The hopeful look Max is giving him almost makes him feel sorry for the guy, cool kid privilege aside. “I don’t think so. Look, it was fun getting busted for academic misconduct together, but we really can’t be hanging out. She won’t like that.”
“You mean my sister? She can’t tell us what to do,” Max replies.
“What are you, new here? Yes, she can. If you think a loser like me can go against her of all people, you’re willfully naive. In fact, I need to get out of here before she sees me talking to you. She’s creamed nerds for less.” As if on cue, the bell rings and he takes off running.
Peter leans up against the wall and tentatively peeks around the corner to make sure the coast is clear before stepping into the hallway. Just when he thinks he’s going to make it to class unscathed, somebody yells,
“Hey, Micro-Peter!” His lips contort into scowl. Not this again. It’s been years, when will people finally drop it?
“For the last time, it’s not a micropenis! It’s grown since then!” He retorts. He turns to see who said it and his heart drops. It’s the absolute last person he should be talking back to if he wants to survive his senior year. Her two lackeys stand on either side of her, arms crossed. Kyle has a wicked grin on his face. Jason’s attempting one, but he’s not very good at it and it looks more like he’s smiling awkwardly to have his school picture taken than anything else.
“What? It’s a compliment,” Steph says with a sneer “you’re, like, famous around here.” She looks over to Kyle and Jason, her lips curling into a diabolical smile. “What do you say, boys? Should we give him special treatment because of his celebrity status and let him off the hook for this hallway infraction?”
“Ha! Yeah,” says Jason.
She looks at him incredulously. “No, obviously! It was a rhetorical question, genius. He’s getting a kick-it ticket! Kyle, restrain the perp.” Kyle eagerly runs over to him and grabs him by the shoulders as Stephanie winds up her foot and kicks him straight in the crotch. Kyle lets go and he collapses in a heap on the highly unsanitary hallway floor as the pain radiates through his body.
“Jesus,” he hisses, struggling to pick himself back up. He eventually succeeds and staggers away, still slightly hunched over in pain.
“Ha, fuck outta here, Jackoffski!” Kyle says. He nudges Jason in the ribs and he joins in the laughter, too.
“Jackoffski. That’s good,” Steph says with a chuckle, raising her hand to give Kyle a high five. Her mood sours when she sees her brother approaching. Technically, it’s not a hallway infraction - he’s not a nerd, so he’s within his rights to be here, but how many times has she told him to stay out of her way at school?
“Oh, hey, sis,” he says with the usual dumb, goofy grin on his face “Kyle, Jason.” He greets them a bit more nervously. He can never be sure when they’re going to start in on him at Stephanie’s behest.
“Hey, dipshit,” she replies and his face instantly falls. Good. It’s only fair. Solomon referred to her as his idiot daughter for the millionth time this morning, but made no mention of his arguably even less intelligent idiot son. It’s up to her to remind him. “Heard you got busted for academic misconduct. You know what dad always says, if you’re going to cheat, do it like a Lauter and don’t get caught. What, couldn’t even pass a little five question quiz by yourself?”
“Yeah, dumbass,” Kyle says with a sneer, then turns to Steph “I was there, he cheated off the gross, sweaty anime kid.”
“Ugh, ew!” Steph says, face contorting into an expression of pure disgust “you actually talked to him?”
“What’s the big deal? You cheat off geeks all the time,” Max points out.
“Yeah, but he’s, like, a step down from a geek.”
“Yeah,” Kyle chimes in “he’s so gross!”
He and Steph both look at Jason expectantly for a moment before he picks up on it.
“Yeah,” he says, drawing out the word “he, uh, he smells like an open asshole!”
Steph directs her look of disgust to him now. “Ew,” she says again “that’s nasty.” Jason frowns.
Right at that moment, the sound of a familiar voice draws closer, chanting, “Hey, ho! Heck no! Co-ed dances gotta go!” Grace marches towards them, holding the “Homec*mming” sign she’s been proudly brandishing every passing period since the first day of school up high.
“Hey, look, it’s chastity belt,” Jason says, seizing the opportunity to get Steph’s attention off of him.
“Yeah, speaking of gross nerds,” Kyle adds.
“Oh, you think she’s gross, do you?” Steph asks. Max can’t help but smirk. He has a feeling he knows what’s coming. “Do elaborate.”
“She’s, uh, she’s such a nerdy prude! A total two-bagger!” Kyle says.
“Ha. Funny,” Steph says flatly. Without warning, she winds up her fist and hits him square in the nose, knocking him off balance. Jason hastily catches him. He groans and blinks up at her.
“I don’t think she’s a two-bagger, whatever that means,” says Max “she’s kinda cute.”
Stephanie’s jaw tenses. Apparently, he hasn’t taken enough from her. Now he’s thinking of going after the girl she likes? She’d better get that idea out of his head and remind him who’s in charge here. She socks him in the face, too and he staggers backwards. Jason catches him and looks down at him and Kyle with concern, struggling to hold them both up. Max brings up a hand to rub the fresh red mark on his cheek, a stupid sad, betrayed, wounded puppy look in his eyes.
“What are you still doing here?” she asks Jason exasperatedly “make like Spankoffski during the MEAP and beat it. And take those two with you. I want to be alone with Gracie.”
Jason turns and begins to walk away, one arm slung around Kyle and the other around Max, both of whom are still a little dazed. He strains under their combined weight and just barely manages to turn the corner before Grace arrives.
“Wait! We’re trying to get the dance canceled! Tell your teammates!” Grace calls after them.
“Hey, Grace,” Steph greets her. How anyone could think Grace is a two-bagger is beyond her. She’s so damn cute with that neat little pink bow around her neck and those stupid butterfly clips placed perfectly in her hair. There’s always been something intriguing about the stark contrast between the whole pastel church girl aesthetic and the burning intensity in her eyes when she’s crusading for one of her causes. “I like your sign. Homecumming. You’re funny.”
“Well, that’s what they might as well call it. Dress it up however you want, it’s still just an excuse for kids to dry hump in the gym.”
“Amen,” says Steph “you stoked or what?” She knows that Grace is not, in fact, stoked about it and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited for the scolding she’s sure to receive. Grace doesn’t disappoint.
“No, Stephanie,” she says, harshly emphasizing each syllable in her name “I am not ‘stoked’ to slip on a pile of wayward spunk while running laps in that gym. And unless you’re stoked to roast on a spit in hell, I wouldn’t say ‘amen’ in such a blasphemous context.”
“Sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean to offend,” says Steph with a smirk “just a little joke.”
Grace scowls. “Hmph. Very funny,” she says.
“You know, it’s no wonder you’re so high-strung, Chas-ti-ty. These levels of repression are deeply unhealthy. I mean, we’re eighteen, isn’t it totally normal to want to dry hump in the gym?”
“Exactly,” Grace fires back “we’re only eighteen. Neither of us should be thinking of such vulgar things, not until we’re safely married!”
“C’mon, you don’t ever think about letting loose and giving into your basest urges? Deep down, you’re a dirty girl, I just know it.”
“Don’t call me that!” Grace says, appalled at the audacity “look, are you going to sign the petition or not? I have to get to class.”
“Sorry, dirty girl, I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Steph says with a sultry smile. Grace quietly sucks a breath in through her teeth.
“I could sign it,” Steph continues “I could force everyone in school to sign it. I could decide homecoming’s for nerds so that even if the dance doesn’t get canceled, nobody wants to go and your gym floor remains free of wayward spunk. All I ask is one little date in return.”
“Absolutely not,” says Grace indignantly.
“Okay, let me carry your books, final offer,” Steph replies.
“Carry my books?” Grace sputters, willfully ignoring the way her face flushes “that’s even worse! That’s wrong. That’s so, so wrong! You know what? Forget it. I don’t need help from the likes of you.” With that, she storms off. Steph continues to smirk as she watches her go.
As pride month begins, let us not forget our Palestinian brothers and sisters.
— stephgrace school dance stimboard 🪩🎶
i dont rlly like this but it’s been in my drafts 4ever and i think the idea is cute, they can’t all b winners, so!
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Lautity shippers I’m working on something for you!!
Not done yet but I wanted to share this snippet of what I have so far <3
(Also content warning: it’s pretty brief but it does deal with homophobia/internalized homophobia)
Summary: When Solomon decides raising her grades isn’t enough to get her phone back and demands Stephanie round out her extracurriculars, she maliciously complies by joining Grace in her anti-homecoming campaign. After all, yelling at her classmates about spunk and trying to get their dance canceled won’t be very good for his precious public image. Grace is glad to have the extra help, but gets more than she bargained for when she starts to develop feelings for Stephanie.
Stephanie’s hands are twitching. Somewhere out there, somebody is certainly posting the worst, most horrendous take known to man on Twitter at this very moment and here she is without her phone, powerless to do anything about it. It’s such bullshit. Her dad said that if she raised her grades to a C average, she could have it back, but at the last minute he decided that wasn’t enough and demanded she start rounding out her currently lackluster list of extracurriculars. In her opinion, spitting cold hard facts and spicy hot takes online totally counts (it’s basically journalism if you think about it), but he emphatically disagreed. She has to do something she can actually put on a college application, which means smoke club is off the table. To make matters worse, she made the mistake of complaining to Stacy and Brenda about her predicament and they’ve decided she just has to join cheer.
“Seriously, just try the new cheer with us and see how you like it! I mean you’re pretty, you’re popular, why aren’t you a cheerleader already?” says Brenda.
“Uh, doesn’t it also require, like, dance skills and athleticism and enthusiasm?” Steph says with a skeptical look.
“Oh, you can learn all that stuff,” Stacy says cheerfully.
“Yeah, that’s great and all, but isn’t it too late to join?” Stephanie replies, increasingly desperate for some way to end this conversation.
“Technically, yeah, but I’m captain! I’m sure I can talk coach into making an exception for you,” Brenda says “seriously, just give it a try and tell us you don’t absolutely love it!”
“Do I really need to try it to tell you I don’t absolutely love it? I’ve never tried, like, squeezing lemon juice into an open wound, either, but I’m pretty confident I don’t like that.”
They both purse their lips in confusion, pausing just long enough for her salvation to arrive - fittingly enough, in the form of Grace. Honestly, the least she can do is help Stephanie out of this jam. Her inability to butt out and let people cheat on tests in peace is the reason Stephanie’s even in this situation in the first place. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she almost made them all complicit in manslaughter with that stupid prank. If Pete dove to catch Max even a fraction of a second later, she doesn’t want to think about what would’ve happened. Then again, Max’s brush with death seems to have humbled him and he’s at least been trying to be less of an asshole, so she supposes she has to give Grace credit for making Hatchetfield High a more tolerable place to be. Besides that, whether she likes it or not, they’re running in the same circles now. Steph’s been spending more time with Pete and Pete hangs out with Ruth and Richie, who hang out with Grace, so they’re stuck together, at least at lunch. To make things even weirder, Max has been joining them and those four have been letting him.
“Hey! Grace!” Stephanie calls with uncharacteristic enthusiasm as Grace rounds the corner, her “Homec*mming: don’t dance with temptation!” sign held high.
“Hi, Stephanie,” she says, eyeing her suspiciously “I assume you haven’t changed your mind about allowing that excuse for sin and debauchery to happen?”
“I, uh, you know what? Yes I have,” says Stephanie. Surprise flashes across Grace’s face before she hands over the pink glitter gel pen attached to her clipboard so Stephanie can sign. There’s something so strangely charming about the fact that she uses a freaking glitter gel pen of all things for this.
“Actually,” Stephanie says as she puts down her signature with a flourish “I was wondering if you needed any help with your campaign.”
It’s brilliant. She can fulfill her father’s extracurricular requirement and simultaneously make him regret ever asking her to do it. He’s constantly hounding her about not doing anything to smear his public image and hurt his chances of reelection. Joining Grace in going around school harassing all of her peers and telling them they’re going to hell for supporting homecoming is going to reflect very, very poorly on him. Not to mention how pissed off everyone will be if they actually succeed in canceling the dance. They won’t, but a girl can dream. What’s more, the Chasitys are fairly powerful members of the community and crossing them by suddenly ditching their daughter when she promised to help her is also going to make him look bad. It’s a lose-lose situation for her father and, therefore, win-win for her. See, she is pretty damn smart, no matter what he says.
Grace eyes her suspiciously. “You want to help? You? Why the sudden change of heart?”
Shit, how is she going to explain it? There’s no way Grace is going to believe she suddenly saw the light and became a prude overnight.
“I, just, uh, realized I wasn’t being very open-minded to your worldview. Think of it as a gesture of goodwill. Besides, we’re friends, right? Comrades. Classmates. Nighthawks. And Nighthawks gotta stick together, so if canceling the dance is really all that important to you, then what the hell- heck! I mean heck! I’ll help you out.”
“Well, it has been pretty lonely trying to do it all by myself,” Grace admits, “alright, I guess you can join.”
Stacy and Brenda have been watching this play out, periodically turning to each other to exchange bewildered looks. They only become more confused when Stephanie asks them to sign the petition, too. Brenda shrugs and accepts the pen, writing down her name in perfectly neat cursive. She’s stoked for the homecoming game and pep rally, but she couldn’t care less about the dance right now. It’s been two weeks since Max almost died or whatever and promised to stop bossing everybody around, meaning there’s nothing stopping Kyle from asking her out. So why hasn’t he? She’s been watching grand, romantic hoco proposals at lunch every single day and slowly losing hope that he has one planned for her. Stacy immediately follows suit. Steph and Brenda signed, so she’s obviously going to. She doesn’t want to be the odd one out.
“Wow, three signatures! That’s more than I’ve gotten the entire time I’ve been doing this! Steph, you’re incredible!” The way Grace’s face lights up is almost endearing and Stephanie has to admit that it’s nice to get some praise and recognition for once.
“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Steph replies with a faint, mischievous smirk.
Before they part ways to head to their next class, Stephanie finds herself agreeing to go to Grace’s after school. Apparently, if she’s serious about this, she needs her own sign to carry around.
“It’ll be fun, Steph,” Grace insists “think of it like arts and crafts!”
“My favorite,” Stephanie says flatly as they load Grace’s pink Schwinn into the backseat of her car.
It turns out that the Chasity household is all the way across town. Grace must be surprisingly athletic if she makes that commute on her bike twice a day. It sits in a cul de sac lined with near-identical two-story houses, complete with perfectly maintained green lawns and white picket fences. It’s exactly how Stephanie would have pictured it. At least it is until they go upstairs to Grace’s bedroom and she sees that the door’s been removed from his hinges.
“I know open floor plans are trendy right now, but this seems like overkill,” she says “why do you just, like, straight up not have a bedroom door?”
“Oh, I’m not allowed to,” Grace says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world “my parents are worried I might get up to some inappropriate activities unsupervised.”
“Inappropriate? You?” Steph says “what, are they afraid you’re gonna stay up until eight forty-five instead of eight thirty doing bible study?”
The joke is lost on Grace.
“No, Steph, really bad stuff! Like…” she pauses and looks around as if to make sure they’re alone, then lowers her voice to a whisper “…reading lewd magazines or touching myself.”
This explains a lot about Grace. Despite herself, Stephanie can’t help but feel bad for her. Along with that comes a slight, unexpected sense of kinship. She knows a thing or two about overly controlling parents. Sure, Solomon ignores her ninety percent of the time, but the ten percent he doesn’t, he’s always on her ass about something she should be doing or shouldn’t be doing or needs to be doing differently.
Grace’s small bedroom is immaculately clean and organized. It consists of a twin-sized bed in the corner with a pastel pink and blue quilt, a small desk and a largely empty bookshelf lined with only a small handful of church-approved reading material. Stephanie’s eyes are drawn to the figure of Jesus on the crucifix hanging on the door.
“What’s with the sweater?” she asks “is that some kind of obscure biblical reference I don’t get?”
“Oh, no,” Grace replies “I just knitted that for him ‘cause I think he needs to cover up. I get that he died for our sins, but he doesn’t need to have his nips out to do it.”
Stephanie stifles a laugh as they settle down on the floor with their posterboard and Grace’s impressive collection of colorful markers and get to work on her sign. To make things more interesting, she challenges herself to come up with the worst possible slogan and get Grace to approve it.
“Oh, I’ve got it,” she says, snapping her fingers “how about ‘homecoming? More like hell going.’”
“I like that,” says Grace “it really gets the point across. You’re pretty smart, Steph.” If her eyes water at that, it’s just allergies. Despite the cleanliness of the room, Grace must have forgotten to dust it recently. Yeah. That’s it.
Stephanie doesn’t get much sleep that night. With no Twitter fights to distract her, she simply stares at the ceiling until two in the morning thinking about the surprising amount of fun she had hanging out with Grace today and the glance she got into Grace’s home life that awakened a new sense of sympathy for the school snitch. Given how ludicrously strict the Chasitys seem to be, her existence is probably totally devoid of typical teenage mischief. She probably hasn’t so much as snuck out for a late-night convenience store run. It’ll take some convincing, but maybe Steph can change that.
God, who is she? Why is she lying here actually thinking about willingly spending time with Grace? The lack of screen time must be messing with her head. She always thought getting off of that cesspool of an app would improve her brain function, but apparently not. She needs her phone back, pronto. She just has to survive the next couple weeks first.
The second she wakes up, Stephanie realizes she’s going to fall asleep in class without the help of caffeine. She stops off at that singing coffee shop and gets her usual, a black americano with seven shots. She’s not sure they’re even legally allowed to serve that much caffeine in one drink, but they always indulge her. Being the mayor’s daughter does have its perks. On a whim, she decides to get an herbal peach tea for Grace. She double checks that it’s caffeine free and watches the barista vigilantly to make sure she doesn’t spit in it as it’s rumored they sometimes do here. It’s not like she wants to, but they agreed to touch base before class and it would be rude not to bring her anything. Solomon may be a shitty dad, but he raised her to have manners, damnit.
Grace is waiting for her on the steps in front of the school and accepts the tea almost cautiously, tentatively taking a sip once Stephanie reassures her that it doesn’t contain what she refers to as a gateway drug. Stephanie actually googled it once to try and prove her wrong and learned that caffeine is, in fact, technically a drug, even if she still doesn’t believe it’s a slippery slope to smoking “the devil’s lettuce” like Grace insists it is. No wonder she gets headaches when she doesn’t drink her seven shot americano. Huh, Grace might almost have a point.
“Oh, that’s really good,” she says brightly “I usually just drink plain hot water, but this is way better. I think it might be my new favorite. Thanks, Steph!”
Stephanie decides not to wonder why she’s so pleased that Grace liked it or why her heart flutters a little at the thought that it’s Grace’s new favorite. Maybe it’ll become her go-to order and she’ll think of Stephanie every time she drinks it.
“Alright, we’ve got like ten minutes before classes start, let’s get this show on the road,” Steph says. She sets her sights on a couple nerds climbing up the steps, engaged in a conversation about some TV show about a time traveling doctor.
“Hey,” she says “Rita! TJ!”
“It’s, uh, it’s Reese and PJ,” the one with the pigtails and the glasses says nervously. They both look a little terrified of her, which makes sense. She does run with the jocks and cheerleaders who were probably picking on them until recently.
“Right,” she says, trying to emulate her father’s constituent charming smile “say, you don’t want your tax dollars funding a school-sanctioned fuckfest, do you?”
“Steph! Language,” Grace scolds her.
“Uh,” Reese replies, clearly distressed and confused.
“We’re high schoolers,” says PJ, equally uncertain “I mean, I have, like, a part-time job at the bookstore, so I guess I’m technically a taxpayer? Look, is this some new type of bullying? Because it’s making me really uncomfortable, I’d honestly rather you just gave me a swirly and got it over with.”
“PJ!” Reese says “speak for yourself! I don’t want a swirly. I’ll take the weird experimental bullying.”
“Oh, perish the thought! It’s not bullying. We’re out here trying to save souls,” Stephanie says dramatically “as a wise woman once said, homecoming is just an excuse to dry hump in the gym. We can’t allow that such depravity and debauchery to take place. Not at our school. Sign this petition to keep the hallways free of sin and the gym floor free of spunk.” She’s actually having a blast hamming it up like this. Maybe she should look into drama club. She turns to look at Grace, who’s positively beaming and giving her two thumbs up.
“If we, uh, if we sign your petition, will you leave us alone?” PJ asks, shrinking back from Stephanie and hiding behind Reese.
“Deal,” Steph says, already handing her the glitter gel pen. She and Reese hastily sign and book it to get away from her.
It gets better from there. She catches Brad Callahan in the hallway and harasses him to sign, too. When he refuses on the grounds that Sarah Peterson agreed to go with him and they’re “totally going to get to third base”, she gets to channel her inner Grace and tell him he’s going to burn in hell. If there is an afterlife similar to what’s posited in the bible, she honestly does believe he will, but for entirely different reasons.
“Have fun letting the devil lick your skin clean off with his sandpaper tongue,” she calls after him. God, that was cathartic.
By the end of the week, half the school is thoroughly annoyed by her and Grace’s proselytizing and the other half have, by some miracle, actually agreed to sign that damn petition. Every day, she comes up with another excuse (reason. They’re valid reasons) to hang out with Grace after school. They have to make new flyers to hand out. They have to make pamphlets to educate people on the safety hazard of bodily fluids on the gym floor. Now that they’re getting serious traction, they have to discuss how to bring the petition to the principal and then, potentially, the school board.
It was only a matter of time before Solomon caught wind of all this and confronted her. She gets home from drafting their proposal for principal Blim to find him waiting up for her in the living room, a scowl on his face. It gives her slight deja vu for the day her precious smartphone was taken from her.
“Well, if it isn’t my October surprise.”
“Oh, hi, Dad. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she says mockingly.
“Don’t get cute with me,” he says “care to explain why I’m getting phone calls from your school about you trying to cancel the homecoming dance and yelling at your classmates about ‘spunk’?”
“You were the one who told me to round out my extracurriculars,” she replies with a smug grin “I’m helping Grace Chasity with her campaign. Haven’t you heard? Homecoming is just a disgusting excuse to dry hump in the gym.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Stephanie, I meant a real extracurricular. Volleyball! German club! Yearbook! Anything but whatever the hell this is!”
“What’s the big deal?” she says “you were so worried what people would think of my nocturnal activities when that rumor started going around and now it’s not an issue anymore. Everyone knows I’m strictly anti-sex.”
“Well, you’re going to knock it off this instant if you don’t want me to smash your phone with a hammer for real.”
“Okay. Done,” she says, pausing for effect before grinning evilly and adding, “oh, you know what. I just thought of something. The Chasitys are a pretty big deal in the community, huh? Pretty important in the church. They’re not going to be too happy with me if I ditch their daughter and leave her out to dry when I promised I’d help her, are they?”
Solomon throws his hands up and lets out an exasperated groan.
“You’re killing me, Stephanie!” he says “you’re killing me with what you’re doing!”
“If only, Dad. If only,” she says quietly, still smirking as he retreats to his study.
Grace climbs out of bed and stretches, feeling slightly groggy from sleeping in an extra half hour. Steph’s giving her a ride today, meaning she didn’t have to get up quite so early to give herself time to bike to school. She usually doesn’t mind it - she likes getting the fresh air and the way it quiets her usually racing mind - but it’s pouring rain today and she’d much rather be inside a warm, dry car. Steph’s company doesn’t hurt, either. She knows their relationship is strictly business, but she’s been having fun with Steph and she’s starting to think of her as an actual friend. She wonders if Steph feels the same way. She’s never had many friends before, so it’s hard to tell. She gets dressed, brushes her teeth, washes her face and even puts on some of that moisturizer Steph gave her to try when she complained about her dry skin. She goes downstairs and toasts up two blueberry bagels, spreading cream cheese onto them and placing one neatly into a Tupperware container for Steph. She always oversleeps and misses breakfast, so Grace has been trying to bring her something reasonably nutritious every day. It’s the least she can do with how much Steph has helped her recently.
Stephanie pulls up in front of her house and she climbs into the car, immediately relaxed by the feeling of the heat blasting and the sound of soft jazz playing on the stereo.
“I like the music,” Grace comments.
“Yeah, I thought it’d fit the cozy rainy day vibes,” says Steph.
“It is cozy,” Grace agrees.
“So, two hundred signatures, huh?” Steph says “did you ever think you’d get that far?”
“No,” says Grace “not in my wildest dreams. I never could have done it on my own. I’m nowhere near as convincing as you. If you can believe it, a lot of people say I come on a little strong.”
“What? No way!” Stephanie says in a lighthearted, teasing manner. “Maybe you do, but that’s not always a bad thing,” she adds after a moment with a rare fond, sincere smile.
The heat must be turned up a little too high, because Grace can feel her face flushing. They arrive at school and as Stephanie reaches into the backseat to grab her bag, Grace wonders what it would be like to lean in and kiss her. How soft her lips would be and whether she’d taste bitter from all that coffee she slams. Oh, heck. Oh, no.
She shoves that thought deep down into the recesses of her mind where it belongs. She tells Steph they should divide and conquer instead of sticking together today, claiming it’s because they’re running out of time and they need to cover as much ground as possible. She isn’t sure, but she could swear Steph looks a little sad. Despite her efforts, her mind keeps wandering back to that moment in the car as she traverses the hallway trying to collect more signatures at lunch. She’d give anything for some kind of distraction right now. Well, ask and you shall receive, as they say. Max approaches and, as usual, he brightens up when he sees her.
“Hey, Grace,” he says cheerfully, absolutely enraptured by her “what are you doin’?”
“Hi, Max,” she says absently, too wrapped up in her current crisis to scold him for leering at her like that “getting the dance canceled, same as usual.”
“Where are you headed? Maybe I could, uh, carry your books for you? If you want. No pressure. Or we could just walk together,” he says with a bright, hopeful smile.
“Max, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, we’re way too young for that! Besides, if you don’t change your ways, you’re already hellbound. You don’t need to make things worse for yourself by associating with a sinner like me.”
Max furrows his brow in genuine confusion. “What are you talking about? You’re, like, the biggest prude in school.”
She feels tears pricking at her eyes. “That’s really sweet of you to say, Max, but you don’t understand. I think I like someone. Like, like-like them.”
“Is it me?” he asks, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. She gives him an incredulous look.
“No,” she says. His face falls slightly, but there’s no time to dwell on his disappointment now. Who the hell is this guy, anyway? He’s going to kick his ass- wait, no. No, he’s not. Grace is her own person and she’s allowed to go out with whoever she wants. It’s not this mystery dude’s fault if she likes him and not Max.
“That’s the thing,” she continues, “that someone’s a girl, too!”
The tears flow freely now and she begins to sob quietly. Max’s eyes go wide and he freezes up like a deer in headlights. He has no idea how to handle this. Until recently, he made people cry on a near daily basis, usually deliberately. Getting them to stop crying, on the other hand, is uncharted territory.
“Aw, Grace, c’mon, don’t cry,” he starts. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t do much. “I’ll sign your petition! I’ll make everybody sign your petition! How’s that sound? No homecoming! No spunk on the gym floor!” When she doesn’t even respond to that, he knows it’s serious. “Lots of people like girls. I like girls! Who doesn’t? They’re great.”
She sniffles. “Yeah, b-but you’re a boy. You’re supposed to!”
He pauses. “Well, I don’t bring it up a lot, but I like guys, too. See, you’re not alone. We’re, like, uh, what’s the phrase? Like two peas in a pod,” he says, trying to sound gentle and reassuring, which is also uncharted territory for him. She pauses and looks at him for a second.
“Oh, gosh,” she says and starts bawling even harder. He winces and realizes he’s in way over his head. It’s time to message Ruth and Richie for backup.
Grace is crying, plz help
He receives a string of incredibly graphic threats and knife emojis from both of them in response and adds, I swear I didn’t do it!! At least not on purpose!!
Yeah well there’s a difference between intent and impact bitch. Smh have you already forgotten the anti bullying assembly??? Richie replies but yeah meet us in the AV classroom, it’s empty rn
He leads Grace there and Ruth and Richie await them. She sniffles and takes a seat. Ruth hands her a water bottle and Richie gives her a small pack of tissues. He always carries some around to dab the sweat from his forehead. It’s not like they’re very useful for him, anyway. They usually end up disintegrating from becoming so soaked.
“You wanna tell us what’s wrong, Grace?” Richie asks.
She tugs at the sleeve of Max’s letterman, looking at him with red, puffy eyes. His chest tightens. It’s hard to see her like this, so sad and scared and drained. His face forms a puzzled expression as he tries to figure out what she’s trying to communicate until he finally realizes.
“Oh,” he says “you want me to tell ‘em?” She nods, still dabbing at her eyes with the tissues. “She’s sad ‘cause she likes a girl. But there’s nothing wrong with that, right? Who doesn’t like girls?”
“Uh, me,” says Richie.
“Oh, right, sorry, Richie,” Max corrects himself, looking a little sheepish.
“Preach!” says Ruth, raising her hand to high five Max. He enthusiastically returns it. “If girls loving girls is wrong, then I don’t want to be right! See, Grace, you’re not alone. You’re just like me. Two peas in a pod!”
Grace buries her face in her hands and starts bawling again.
He looks at Ruth and Richie with slight indignation.
“See,” he says “it’s not so easy, is it?” His point made, he turns to watch Grace helplessly. Grace, who was the mastermind behind the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for him, even if he did later find out that it was an admittedly well deserved revenge prank. Grace, who didn’t have to be his friend and probably shouldn’t even be giving him the time of day after the way he treated her, but still does anyway. Grace, who’s usually so opinionated and snarky and passionate, always fired up about something and never shy about it, regardless of what other people think.
He’s been learning to accept that he can’t control every little thing. That trying to have power over everything and everybody was deeply unhealthy and all it really accomplished apart from a fleeting power trip was making everybody miserable and secretly resentful of him. It’s hard letting go, but it’s also been liberating. The powerlessness he feels right now is crushing, though. There’s nothing freeing about it. He can’t stand sitting here watching his friend break down because she thinks that some fundamental part of herself is wrong. He wants to fight the people who made her feel this way, but he suspects that particular list is too extensive for him to work his way through. What good would it do now, anyway? Maybe it’s finally time to take the advice of the exhausted, overworked second grade teacher who was definitely not paid enough to put up with all of his shit and use his words instead of hitting. Better late than never, as they say.
“Grace,” he says gently, not even sure where he’s going with this, but unable to stand the silence anymore “we’re, uh, we’re here for you, alright? It’s gonna be okay.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about! No it’s not,” she cries in a strained, hoarse voice “even if it’s true that there’s nothing wrong with liking girls, my parents sure don’t think so! What’s gonna happen to me if they find out? They’ll probably make me go live at abstinence camp with the Jerries for the rest of my life!”
“Well, we’re eighteen, right?” says Ruth “they can’t make you.”
“And if they try, you’ll just come live with me instead,” says Richie “uncle Paul would be more than cool with it. He loves you. He says you’re a good influence because you don’t let me blow off my homework to watch anime and you make me go to bed before three in the morning.”
“Well, you need your eight hours,” she says with a soft and sincere, but tired smile “thanks, guys. That does make me feel a little better.” She tentatively pulls Richie into a hug, not caring about the stench or how damp he is. Ruth, of course, eagerly joins in, not about to miss the opportunity for human contact. Max stays put and looks at them with hesitation, not sure if they want him to join.
“What are you doing, Max?” says Grace “get in here.” Well, that answers his question. He still holds back, watching Ruth and Richie for their reactions.
“It’s only fair,” says Richie with a smirk “you did make her cry.” He scowls, but there’s no real malice behind it. He comes over and wraps his arms around them tight.
With Grace sufficiently cheered up, there’s still one question on everyone’s minds.
“So, who’s the lucky lady?” says Ruth “wait, it’s not me, is it?”
“What? No,” she says, her signature snark finally making a comeback.
“It’s okay, Ruth. I got shot down, too,” says Max “two peas in a pod!” They high five again.
“It’s Steph,” she finally admits.
“Makes sense,” says Richie “she is waifu material.” Ruth nods in agreement.
“Waifu material?” Max asks, furrowing his brow in confusion again. Richie places a hand on each of his shoulders and looks at him with an intense, solemn expression.
“I have much to teach you,” he says “come over after football practice, we’re watching all the classics. We’ll start you off with Ouran, I feel like it’s pretty approachable for a beginner.”
Ruth grabs his arm. “What? No fair, I still haven’t gotten to show him Star Wars. Come over to mine, Max, we’re watching the prequels.”
“The prequels, Ruth? Seriously? As if subjecting him to the trilogy isn’t bad enough.”
“Well, what do you know, you won’t even sit through one episode of Clone Wars with me!”
As they continue to bicker, a warmth blooms in his chest. They actually want to spend time with him to the point of arguing over who gets to. They want to be around him when they don’t have to. They like him. They’re not just sticking around out of fear. They trust him enough to invite him into their homes. To ask him to share in the nerdy interests he used to make fun of them for. He smiles softly and pulls them into another hug.
“We can do both,” he says.
“Ugh, fine,” Richie huffs, but a reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Hey, Grace, you want to join us?” Max asks “oh, we should invite Steph and Pete, too!”
“Oh, I appreciate the invite, but I have my bible study group tonight.” That much is true. She is supposed to meet up with Mary, Gabe and Noah later to study scripture. She’s not sure she can face them after her realization today, but if she skips, her parents are sure to hear about it. Besides that, the alternative of joining them for their movie night and facing Peter is only slightly less daunting. It’s obvious that he like-likes Steph, too. She’s worried it’s going to make things awkward between them. What if Steph likes her and not Peter and he ends up getting hurt? What if Steph likes Peter and not Grace and she has to watch them hold hands and make eyes at each other and stuff down her heartbreak and pretend she never wanted any of those things?
Grace Chasity headcanon rambles!
Some silly Grace hcs for @nighthaterfrfr!! I tried to mostly avoid any of mine that you mentioned something similar to in yours bc we had a good deal of overlap! :D
(Just to preface, one of my biggest headcanons is that Grace is autistic so there’s a good chance that some of these may be influenced by that! I did try to pick ones that are more applicable to canon though! [But if anyone wants any of those, I have about a million :3])
When Grace was a young child in elementary school (or Sunday school), she very innocently kissed Alice Woodward and felt something™. (She entirely represses this memory for YEARS.)
^ During her eventual sexuality crisis, despite not having talked to Alice for years outside of polite conversation if they ran into one another, Grace reaches out to her for support/to ask questions because she was the only out queer person that Grace knew and trusted enough not to out her. (Alice big sister mode activated.)
^ (They’re so silly, they’ve literally never interacted outside of a throwaway line about them knowing and possibly disliking each other but to me they're friends who fell apart and eventually find each other again when they're both more grown as people.)
^ Also, ignore me indulging my other biggest hc which is that Grace is a lesbian.
Grace took piano lessons as a child and is actually quite good because she wanted to be the pianist for her church’s masses when she got older! She stopped taking lessons in high school, but she keeps up with playing in her free time to maintain the skill and occasionally help out with music at her church.
^ Richie constantly tries to convince her to learn anime openings and music from games that he plays for him (he begged her to learn Megalovania for weeks until she finally gave in).
She has never celebrated Halloween because her parents think it’s satanic so Ruth and Richie (who definitely still go trick-or-treating in high school) make a point to bring her some of their candy on the following school day.
^ She definitely doesn’t cry about this gesture later when she goes home!!
She is an absolute monster while playing board games, like she gets REALLY aggressive about them.
^ (definitely influenced by Angela's chaos on smosh games, especially the “be a little more gentle!! >:(” clip)
She can’t go to sleep (intentionally) without getting a kiss goodnight. At home, her parents kiss her on the forehead before bed and if she’s at camp, she has to get a kiss on the head from Girl Jeri if she wants to sleep well.
^ It disrupts her routine which makes it harder for her to wind down!!
^ I like to think that before the events of Abstinence Camp, she thought of Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri as older sibling figures.
She has never been to a sleepover because she’s never had good enough friends to be invited to one :(
^ The nerds + Steph very quickly remedy this!!
^ (quick ramble related to the last hc) During the first group sleepover, Steph wakes up in the middle of the night to get a drink, realizes Grace is still up, and after Grace sheepishly admits her dilemma following Steph’s prompting for an explanation, Steph very casually plants a kiss on her forehead and then goes back to sleep. Grace’s face is beet red after this and now she can’t sleep for an entirely different reason.
^ They're in love to me!!!
LIB related
(Based almost entirely on Blinky’s line about watching Grace and the nightmare about Max/Richie that implies she has the gift.)
^ Grace has been connected to the Lords in Black since long before we see her, Steph, and Pete summon them in NPMD.
^ Much like Lex was friends with Webby as a child and forgot, Grace was friends with the LIB when she was young but grew out of it.
^ (I have a whole little overanalysis/hc set of things for this hc if anyone wants to hear :3)
After she starts using the Black Book, her appearance starts to very slightly change so that she always looks just a tiny bit off.
^ Her teeth are just a touch too sharp, her ears have the slightest point to them, and her eyes almost seem to shift in colour (depending on which LIB is influencing her).
^ But hey, it must just be a trick of the light!! She's so normal!! Dw about it!!!
She will occasionally feel the sudden compulsion to bite others (Nibbly is feeling silly!!)
^ She does not act on this… most of the time :3
One more silly one to end on
She once owned a Tamagotchi and became so deeply stressed over the state of this virtual creature that she made herself sick from anxiety.
^ Karen and Mark confiscated the toy very shortly after this.
Anyway ramble's over now but my 45 page google doc of Grace hcs continues to grow every day bc I am fixated hard on this silly little show :3
edit: had to add the '^' thing because the bullets didn't indent properly for some reason!! every one that has that is attached to the previous one without it!
also idk why on mobile the sleepover hc and the Alice hc got cut short?? The sleepover one is supposed to say that now she can't sleep for an entirely different reason and the end of the second bullet says (Alice big sister mode activated).
what if steph x grace's ship name was... holyphone *(and/or christianhotline as a friend suggested)
I love how basically each and every ride the cyclone production ships Jane with another character. Sometimes it’ll be SpaceDolls (Like McC*rter theatre) and other times it’s SugarDolls (Like Opera Wyoming). I just find it funny how almost each and every one of them just throws Jane into a “relationship” (most only hint at it or are platonic but still😤)
Tell me I’m wrong. I dare you.
Og:
Og:
She’s as straight as a ruler (the ruler: ⭕️)
Scott Pilgrim is, I think, the best example I can think of for establishing a setting's Nonsense Limit. The setting's Nonsense Limit isn't quite "How high-fantasy is this". It's mostly a question of presentation, to what degree does the audience feel that they know the rules the world operates by, such that they are primed to accept a random new element being introduced. A setting with a Nonsense Limit of 0 is, like, an everyday story. Something larger than life, but theoretically taking place in our world, like your standard spy thriller action movie has a limit of 1. Some sort of hidden world urban fantasy with wizards and stuff operating in secret has a nonsense limit around 3 or 4. A Superhero setting, presenting an alternate version of our world, is a 5 or 6. High fantasy comes in around a 7 or so, "Oh yeah, Wizards exist and they can do crazy stuff" is pretty commonly accepted. Scott Pilgrim comes in at a 10. If you read the Scott Pilgrim book, it starts off looking like a purely mundane slice of life. The first hint at the fantastical is Ramona appearing repeatedly in Scott's Dreams, and then later showing up in real life. When we finally get an explanation, it's this:
Apparently Subspace Highways are a thing? And they go through people's heads? And Ramona treats this like it's obscure, but not secret knowledge. Ramona doesn't think she's doing anything weird here. At this point, it's not clear if Scott is accepting Ramona's explanation or not, things kind of move on as mundane as ever until their Date, when Ramona takes Scott through subspace, and he doesn't act like his world was just blown open or anything, although I guess that could have been a metaphor. there's a couple other moments, but everything with Ramona could be a metaphor, or Scott not recognizing what's going on. Maybe Ramona is uniquely fantastical in this otherwise normal world. And then, this happens
Suddenly, a fantastical element (A shitty local indie band finishing their set with a song that knocks out most of the audience) is introduced unrelated to Ramona, and undeniably literal. We see the crowd knocked out by Crash and The Boys. but the story doesn't linger on the implications of that, the whole point of that sequence is to raise the Nonsense Level, such that you accept it when This happens
Matthew Patel comes flying down onto the stage, Scott, who until this point is presented as a terrible person and a loser, but otherwise is extremely ordinary, proceeds to flawlessly block and counter him before doing a 64-hit air juggle combo. Scott's friends treat this like Scott is showing off a mildly interesting party trick, like being really good at darts. The establish that Scott is the "Best Fighter in the Province", not only are street-fighter battles a thing, Scott is Very Good at it, but they're so unimportant that being the best fighter in the province doesn't make Scott NOT a loser. So when Matthew Patel shows off his magic powers and then explodes into a pile of coins, we've established "Oh, this is how silly the setting gets". It's not about establishing the RULES of the setting so much as it is about establishing a lack of rules. Scott's skill at street-fighter battles doesn't translate to any sort of social prestige. Ramona can access Subspace Highways and she uses it to do a basic delivery job. It doesn't make sense and it's clear that it's not supposed to. So later on, when Todd Ingram starts throwing around telekinesis, and the explanation we're given is "He's a Vegan" , you're already so primed by the mixture of weirdness and mundanity that rather than trying to incorporate this new knowledge into any sort of coherent setting ruleset, you just go "Ah, yeah, Vegans".
I LOVE WOMEN
Also, we do not talk about George Washington CANONLY being Athena's son enough like..?