#because even if it was kind of inaccurate then I could listen while looking at the text

[fire-fira]

Oh the joys of being a language nerd and wanting to get all of the canon-to-YJA Atlantean down in my Atlantean dictionary for reference, finally sitting down and looking at scripts for episodes where I know there's Atlantean spoken, and getting met with:

[SPEAKS ATLANTEAN] for several lines in a row

just the translated subtitles

lines not even included

results that aren't what I'm looking for at all (mostly stuff from Atlantis: The Lost Empire)

On one hand I get it, people who pulled together those scripts were focused more on recording the scripts for the story and the plot (and not so much on painstakingly figuring out what the exact sounds for words in a conglang-based-on-ancient-Greek were and reasonably transcribing them), buuuuuut on the other hand it's still frustrating.

SIGH.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

A Father’s Love, part 2

Sam Winchester & daughter!reader

Requested by @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

Synopsis: Sam gets his soul back, and he has regrets (also, I put the bunker in here even though the timeline is canonically inaccurate)

Part 1 is here

Sam’s memories from his time without a soul had been coming back, slowly but surely. The first memory came back almost as soon as he laid eyes on you.

He had been telling you just how much he couldn’t care less about you. You’d been upset, crying and trying to get him to leave you alone, and he…

He’d hit you. So hard that almost half of your face was still slightly discolored from the healing bruise.

“I’m sorry.” Sam was on his knees in front of you, cradling your face in his large hands with his thumb brushing lightly over your bruised skin. “Honey, I’m so so sorry.”

You held onto your dad’s shoulders while leaned forward and pressed a feather-light kiss to your bruised cheek.

“Daddy, it’s…I’m ok, I promise.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he held you in a vice grip to him, rocking you back and forth.

“I love you so much,” he breathed. “So much.”

“I know.” There were tears in your eyes that had come seemingly out of nowhere. “It’s ok, I know. Please don’t feel bad, I know it wasn’t you.”

But Sam couldn’t accept that. The memory was his—he could still feel himself hitting you. His little girl that he’d sworn on his life to protect. It wasn’t something he thought he could forgive himself for.

…

Your dad avoided you for the next few days. Slowly, as the bruise on your face finally went away, he was able to look you in the eye again, but even then he barely looked at you. He’d pass you in the bunker sometimes, but he always just ducked his head low and rushed past you.

He hadn’t neglected you though; there was always food ready for you at mealtimes, usually with some kind of gift—little notes, a bracelet, a stuffed animal—it was like your dad was trying to make up for what had happened. Either that, or he was trying to prove that he really loved you. Well, you didn’t need a stuffed giraffe to tell you that.

Finally, once you’d had enough, you waited by your door around lunch time, listening intently for the sound of your dad leaving you food again. Once you heard the gentle tap of his footsteps, you swung the door open.

Sam staggered back a step, looking surprised.

“Oh…sorry, I was just—I brought your lunch,” Sam stammered, looking like he’d been caught doing something wrong.

“Come in.” Your tone left no room for argument. Sam stepped in, leaving the food on your desk.

“Is something wrong?” Sam asked.

“You.”

“Me?” Sam looked abashed. “I…what did I do?”

Guilt pricked at you for being so direct in calling him out. You’d wanted to confront him to make him feel better, not worse.

“It’s not what you’re doing, it’s what you’re not doing,” you sighed. “You’re not talking to me.”

“I just…I wanted to give you space if you needed it. And I wanted to make it up to you.” Sam ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t want to screw this up anymore.”

“Dad…” you sighed. This wasn’t how you wanted it to go. You stepped forwards and grabbed your dad’s hands. He looked at you, finally meeting your eyes without looking away. “You didn’t screw anything up, ok? I forgave you a long time ago, because I know that it wasn’t you. And I don’t need space, dad. I just need you to forgive yourself.”

A relieved smile settled itself in your dad’s face.

“That’s it?” He asked.

“And…” you grinned. “Maybe you could take us out for ice cream.”

Sam laughed.

“It’s a deal.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @fullbelieverheart @procrastination20 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[libraryraccoon]

I was wondering how a Dazai!Reader from BSD (preferably 15 year old Dazai) would interact with the HH crew

Btw, I love your stuff sm, have a lovely day if you see this!

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Info : I haven't watched BSD for a long time, so it's probably wrong/inaccurate, sorry. Reader have 15 years old.

Message fom Raccoon : What ? Dad!Lucifer ? Dad!Alastor ? Okay, take that Dad!Husk !

TW : Suicide (mentionned); SH (mentionned)

General Headcanon

Finally.

After all this years of trying, after all this attempts, you were finally dead !

And what do we do when we have achieved such a feat ? We drink until the morning !

As you drank, you recounted your feat of finally dying to the bartender, some sort of cat-bird demon.

He gave you a judgmental look when you told him you were 15 and died of suicide.

But you were used to it, people often judge you while you were alive and was trying every second to die.

After a few hours, you were drunk and followed the bartender back to his place, a small apartment in a quiet corner of Hell.

You shouldn't follow someone to their home, you know that, but for your defense, you were drunk and he was a cat. And you have a weakness for cats.

Two things making it impossible to refuse his invitation.

And, if anything ever went wrong, you always had your gun with you, which had appeared at the same time as you in Hell.

The bartender's name was Husk and he kind of adopted you ? You weren't even sure if one sinner could adopt another sinner.

Life was calm with Husk, and you somehow helped him with his work.

By that I mean you were stopping the powers of other demons with your power, so you used it to kick out all the assholes who attacked him from the bar.

You and Husk had this dynamic of "Father who will kill for his child & Child who will sacrifice themselves for their father."

And then, one day you had to move to the Hazbin Hotel because Husk find a work there.

Alastor was surprised to see that Husk now had a kid–he didn't think it was possible for an alcoholic like him to have a child.

And he learned that Husk had cut down on his drinking, so he could be a better father.

*very kindly and not at all suspiciously notes this fact in the back of his mind.*

The hotel was quite shocked to know that you were a child from a fucking mafia and that you had died of suicide at 15 years old. If Husk hadn't informed them about that, they never would have suspected it.

Your humor worries them more than anything else.

Charlie is worry every time you make jokes about suicide while your dad rolls his eyes at it.

Husk was used to your jokes after a few months of living together.

The hotel wasn't.

Charlie is like your older sister, optimistic and a little naive at times.

She always tries to make you see the bright side of things and to make you forget this idea of double death.

Spoiler : it doesn't work.

Lucifer sees you like one of his children.

He spoils you like he spoiled Charlie when she was just a child.

Husk often makes side eyes at him, accusing him of trying to steal his child.

And that was true.

Lucifer, Charlie, Husk and Angel Dust are the ones who are the most concerned about your mental health.

Alastor wanted to make you sign a contract "I become powerful and Alastor releases my father from his contract in exchange of stopping trying to kill myself."

You didn't sign it.

Alastor tried to use you to spy on Vox and the Vees because he was bored and wanted some entertainment.

It worked.

Alastor do radio shows with you sometimes, you two are called "The RadioDuo".

His audience LOVES you.

You gained Alastor some listeners btw.

You help Niffty with her work at the Hotel.

Even if Charlie said you didn't have to do it, you do it anyway.

Vaggie take all your guns because you apparently “didn’t need” them.

You managed to recover them with a little manipulation.

Angel Dust could see himself in you.

You reminded him of his little human self, Anthony, broken by the world and wanting to end it. A family running the Mafia and forcing him to join it.

You're a bit like him, but compared to him, who fought to survive, had a reason to survive, you had nothing, no reason to fight, and you gave up.

When Angel Dust isn't working, he usually stays with you and Husk.

He doesn't want to abandon you, leave you alone in such a rotten world. He wants you to be protected and to be the child you never could be.

He will never let anyone touch you, never.

Husk and Angel Dust are usually the ones who bandage you after SH, Angel Dust doesn't say anything as he does it, because he understands. Husk doesn't speak as well, but you can see that by doing so he's blaming himself, making you instantly regret it.

Don't try to kill yourself in front of them, please. They're already worried enough, don't add more.

Hotel Hazbin was, in a way, your family.

And you would kill everyone in this room before killing yourself before anything happened to them.

[mimicofmodes]

I saw a post going around about costube historians analyzing period film costumes for accuracy and it kind of got under my skin, so I'm sitting down and writing ... not exactly a response to it, but a discussion of the topic.

(It would be a direct response except that I don't actually watch costube, because quite frankly I can't watch/listen to people discuss things I already know. And I don't want to be like "they don't do X!" when maybe they really do X and I'm just not aware. But a lot of the complaints hit the same points that have been brought up against fashion historians for reviewing costumes for decades. I would also note that I have looked into specific videos where there were claims of terrible costuber behavior and watched them and found nothing.)

If you're going to analyze a period film's costuming in any way, you should still interact with the historical aspect to some degree. If you want to talk about the use of bold stripes in Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, for instance, and you don't mention that they were in style during the period the film appears to be set in, it's kind of weird.

Likewise, yes, if you're critiquing primarily from the angle of historical accuracy, you should also engage to at least some extent with the reasoning behind the inaccuracy. If a reviewer doesn't do so at all, then yes, their review is probably not as good as it could be.

People pointing out an inaccuracy (or many inaccuracies) are not inherently scolding the costume designer. Even if their tone is something other than sweet. Sometimes they are scolding other people involved in the production, like the director who mandated a particular costume, or just a general notion of TPTB. Usually they are divorcing the art from the artist, though, and just reviewing the costuming from their particular viewpoint and knowledge base for a likeminded audience.

Sometimes, yes, they are complaining directly about the costume designer. This is not a crime. Some costume designers (for instance, Sandy Powell) have an incredible grasp on fashion history and excellent taste when it comes to diverging from it. Others simply don't have as in-depth of an understanding and make design decisions sometimes based on stereotypes and myths. Some costume designers will explain their decisions in interviews or blog posts and make it clear that they didn't make a truly informed decision about accuracy because they didn't know enough about the period. It's important for both sides of the equation to stop painting the other with too broad of a brush ("ivory-tower elitists who have no idea of a production's needs or budget" vs. "costumers who know how to sew but not how to do historical research").

If you're allowed to complain about a writer or a director or an actor doing something you don't like in a movie, you're also allowed to complain about a costume designer. You're allowed to have aesthetic preferences, and even to talk about them without hedging every five seconds to make it clear that others can disagree, although some of this is beneficial with any critique. Why would it be otherwise?

This seems really obvious to me, but maybe it's not? But "they costumed that female actor in an anachronistically sexy way because sex sells" is a feminist issue. The assumption that women's bodies should be sites of less-clothed allure while men's should attract by being more covered (with more layers than in modern dress, with cravats, etc.) is sexist. Complaints about female characters being costumed inaccurately are often being made along these lines, and pointing out that the producers insisted on it or something does not mean it's suddenly unproblematic that every female character deemed fuckable has to have low necklines at all times and modern shiny hair.

It's true that fiction isn't non-fiction and shouldn't be taken that way, but it's also demonstrably true that viewers do take cliches in film aesthetics as accurate when they see them enough times. People cite Scarlett O'Hara's 18" waist. They believe there were no bright colors before the 1920s and that women couldn't have put their hair up unless they were wealthy. These beliefs have consequences when it comes to public perceptions of history, and if films perpetuate them it's perfectly reasonable to point out that they support ideas about e.g. gender roles that trads express today.

It's also simply funny when a film's hair or costuming or makeup is supposed to evoke a lack of artifice but actually requires quite a bit of artifice because people don't naturally have perfect hair and skin and so on.

If you don't like reviews of period films that focus on the accuracy of the costuming, maybe ... don't watch/read reviews by fashion historians and historical costumers? At least unless they're vetted for you by someone who doesn't mind that?

[nymph-ette111]

hiiiiiii!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) could you do a simon cof x sweet, feminine reader headcannons? made my own headcannons to share with you because ily and i love this prompt(⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

♡ i imagine reader and simon would go out, hes wearing the same crusty ass grey hoodie while shes dressed up all cute and pretty >.<

♡ he reeks of nicotine while she smells like neapolitan marshmallows<3 hes obsessed with her scent. he literally loves using her bodycare/haircare products over his 3 in 1 men shampoo (if he even showers that is) because he'd smell more like her.

♡ she shares absolutely everything of her purchases. she'd do little mini hauls to Simon, showcasing her new pink ballerina flats, sugarbunnies plushie she had to fight a war for in mercari, too faced chocolate bar palette, cute japanese stationary, and a lot of new clothes. Simon loves it. he loves seeing her happy. (may even buy her things he thinks she would love if he didn't have a smoking addiction<3)

♡ she doesnt only share that though she also loves talking his ears off about anything and everything<3 at first he was annoyed with her constant talking but when he spoke of it, she stopped talking so much and he got guilty and missed her overtalking. he tried to bring her spark back in talking and it worked

♡ shes compassionate and kind, understanding his struggles (but not condoning his actions) and helping him to get better. (he really wants to be saved by her but feels that he just cannot.)

♡ he really doesn't get why she's with him. Hes depressed, miserable, and difficult to be with. His low self esteem sometimes gets the best of him and he starts believing that he's not worthy of her, often leaving her on read, missing her calls, and ignoring her. (im sensing attachment issues) reader clutches w communication though :3

♡ they'd explore abandoned buildings. Simon's there to smoke blunts while readers there to get awesome fit pictures<3 they would go a long way travelling and reader the most practical girl you know has her feet hurt from walking on platforms. they either take lots of breaks or Simon just carries her on his back (unlikely)

♡ talk about taking fit pictures, Simon's technically her photographer. She has a blog where she posts fashion and besides the mirror pics, Simon's always the one taking the pictures. He's quite good at it too.

some of these headcannons probably won't work in his time but who cares(⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ) hope this prompt isnt that hard to write for..(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)you can always ignore if you want!! thankkkkkk you x3 xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxooxoxoxox

WARNINGS; MENTIONS OF SMOKING, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION

AUTHOR'S NOTE; WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU!!! probably inaccurate for both the character and the timeline... listen, I don't know what swedish people were up to in 2012 leave me alone. also not very happy with this, still trying to figure out how to write Simon :3

-he looks comically out of place in your room. just imagine a pastel pink room filled to the brim with cute plushies, shelves full of little trinkets and books, floral bedding and lace curtains. a wall full of movie posters, magazine pages, and little polaroids of your most treasured moments, and then there's a depressed smoke addict.

-you know those videos where it's a boyfriend sleeping in their girlfriend's girly room with a bunch of plushies on top of him? yeah, basically same situation.

-his sleep schedule is fucked up. either he pulls an all nighter or is passed out till 3 pm. when it's one of those times where Simon feels tired, you just let him sleep in your bed whilst you do whatever.

-it's also a great opportunity to gather the perfect pictures for black mailing.

-he just looks so stupid in your room I love him.

-doesn't care about your plushies but will learn to treat them nicely after you yelled at him for 15 minutes straight about how it's unacceptable to throw rilakkuma off the bed just so he could sit down.

-punches the plush when you aren't looking.

-he definitely gives you that pink hello kitty hoodie to wear. or he wears it instead so you two could match. that's probably your idea and he obliges because it's something you love and enjoy.

-really like the idea of him being your personal photographer. he's always the first to leave a like on whatever you post, especially if it's he who took the picture.

-doesn't know anyone besides you. his followings on social media just contain a bunch of his favorite bands and your account.

-a bit sad but I can see him borrowing your money (with permission) to buy cigarettes if his mother refuses to give him any. he wants to buy you stuff you might like but he's too busy spending it on his addiction :(

-he instead draws you your favorite characters so you can put it on the wall alongside your other pictures.

-has never been in the vicinity of a woman without being an awkward shit. moral of the story he doesn't know anything about girls. his knowledge of things is pretty vague, so please don't be surprised if you see him just poking around your vanity and asking a million different questions on what certain products do and why.

-his mother is very happy her son finally found a girlfriend. she approves of you and thinks you're an absolute sweetheart. always asks Simon when you will visit them again.

-you two definitely earn a few stares in public because how did such a sweet and pretty girl end up with a guy like Simon.

-it pisses him off endlessly but can't help his thoughts and feelings. thinks he doesn't deserve you or any of the kind shit you do for him.

-like nonnie said, he probably isn't the greatest boyfriend... there are times where he cancels your hang-outs without further explanation or simply doesn't acknowledge any of your calls and messages. he feels pretty shitty after it and apologizes for his behavior. you forgive him even though you both know he'll do it again.

-he is low-key obsessed with your smell, he smothers anything you have in the shower all over his body without caring what it's for, just simply reads the labels and puts it on... with big amounts. this man is making you go bankrupt. you could literally see the outline of his fingers left in the product..

-his camera is full of pictures of you, he likes looking at them when he feels down. which is pretty often.

-shows you all of his favorite places in Stockholm or even Kirkvile (where does this man live I don't get it) ones that aren't usually full of people, just overly adventurous teenagers from time to time. something tells you that you two have trespassed into private property multiple times but Simon doesn't want to answer that question clearly.

-ugh imagine clipping cute little hair clips into Simon's hair and he just lets you do whatever you want because if you're happy then he is happy and he wants to see you smile :(

-in exchange, you let him do corpse paint on your face.

[flamingo-writes]

What would you think if Hobie asks reader to cut the ends of his hair that bother him because of the mask and while she was doing it, she sang a nice song to him, meanwhile some little flowers began to bloom around them.

Really like the last post and this came to my mind immediately.

Listen, I’ve been daydreaming of this the entire day. I think this idea was very cute!

Also, little disclaimer: I was born and raised in Mexico, so, I’m very unfamiliar with how black people’s hair works. I know culturally it has a lot of importance, but other than that I knew very little of the different types of hair and ofc the insane variety of treatments and proper care as well as the different ways to give maintenance to different kinds of dreads. Also, as someone who has had very short hair for 2/3 of my life, as well as shaving my own head for the better part of the last 4 (5?) years, in general hair care and routines are something I’m wildly unfamiliar with, the longest I had my hair in the latest years was a 6 inch or so Mohawk I grew two years ago. Hobie has been a very good opportunity for me to educate myself a lot in hair (especially black people’s hair) and I spent a good portion of my evening watching videos/TikTok’s and reading on dreadlocks and their maintenance. If I wrote something inaccurate or wrong, please let me know, help me see my mistake, and I will fix it as soon as I can.

This came from this other request, I’m thinking of turning into a series.

Flower Bed — Hobie x Reader

Also, you said little flowers, but my brain decided to go for a full flower bed 😭 I hope you like this!

Warnings: none.

“Oí, luv…” Hobie said walking out of the bedroom, looking around you.

“Bathroom!” You shouted as he followed your voice, noticing the bathroom door opened and you kneeling by the shower.

Plants cramped in the shower as you watered them.

“Oh, never mind, you’re busy” He said.

“I’m almost done. I just need to water the ones in the kitchen sink and the monsteras…” You said as you’d todo up and stretched your back. “I’ll be done in ten minutes, what’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you if you could help me trim my hair, it’s starting to get long and gets stuck in the mask and, you know…” He asked softly. “But I can’t see the back of my head,”

“Sure, I’ll help you,” You said giving Hobie a kind smile.

He smiled back, walking up to you and kissing your forehead.

“Need help with the plants?”

“As you wish,” You replied happily. “You were asleep earlier and didn’t want to wake you, so I started watering them on my own…”

“I’m awake now,” He said. “I’ll water the monsteras,”

“Thank you, babe,” You purred.

By the time you were done with the plants, you went ahead and started helping Hobie out. You sat on the edge of your bed, as he sat on the floor. Since Hobie was tall, this was the most comfortable arrangement. It wasn’t also the first time you trimmed his wicks. He asked you to help him every few months.

As you put some soft music in the background, you got started, trimming dread by dread. Taking care to cut the hair while keeping the end of the dread rounded. Cutting just across each wick was already hard as they were thick, but you also wanted to keep them looking nice and rounded. Which was also a reason why Hobie asked you for help. You did a much better job at it than him.

Even when he didn’t admit it, or didn’t look like it, every single detail in his appearance was planned. Especially his hair. He liked taking care of it, and over all treated his hair like this very intimate thing, he hated having other people touching his hair. Except you. He actually loved it when you touched his hair, ran your hands through it, your fingers disappearing between the dreads. And the particular care and dedication which which you seemed to tend to every wick.

Deep in your concentration, watching over the little details, you were unconsciously singing. Something you also did quite a lot. When you were deeply focused on something, you’d start humming and eventually singing. Which only added to the relaxing time Hobie was having.

Between your gentle hands running through his hair, and now the soft sound of your voice singing in a low voice, going along with the music. Hobie lived for these little peaceful moments, making him feel absolutely contempt with his life. These little moments were everything to him.

As he had his eyes closed, focusing on every brought of your touch against him, he didn’t notice at first the plants growing around you.

It wasn’t plain on obvious. In fact, Hobie didn’t notice until he felt something tickling his elbows. He opened his eyes and saw flowers growing out of the floor, tiny plants growing buds and flowering. All in a matter of several seconds. And you continue to sing, concentrated. He blinked several times, wondering if you were aware of what you were doing, as he kept staring at the flowers growing and multiplying, coming out of the wooden floor tiles.

“Uh, luv?” Hobie asked in a low deep voice.

“Hm?” You hummed, answering Hobie’s question, sounding way too focused in your job as you were rounding one of the last wicks.

“Are you aware of the fact that you pretty much brought spring into our bedroom?”

“Huh?” You asked confused, breaking your hyper focus and looked around, noticing the flowers covering almost the entirety of your floor. White, red, lilac, and pink flowers, extending across your small bedroom. “Fuck,”

Hobie laughed softly.

“You didn’t notice?”

“N-no…” You whispered softly.

“That’s amazing…” Hobie sighed. “It’s beautiful, by the way…”

“The thing is I don’t know how to…un-grow them…And they’re a lot…” You said softly, the concern building in your voice, making Hobie chuckle. “What are we going to do with all of them?”

“We can always collect them and sell them or whatever, you know?” Hobie chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

“In the meantime, we can always enjoy this beautiful scene, what do you say?”

“You’re way too calm for someone who has his bedroom full of flowers…”

“You made them. They’re beautiful. I don’t see the issue, basically a work of art,” He said looking at you over his shoulder, as you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Hobie, pollen give you allergies,”

“Sleeping on a flower bed one night isn’t going to kill me,” He pointed out. “Besides, ever since the spider thing, I get less allergies from flowers,” He said lifting a finger up, making you chuckle.

“Fine! You win this argument!” You chuckled.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I love you too”

“That’s why I don’t mind the flowers. Because you made them,”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Hobie’s cheek before you continued tending to the last two wicks.

“Thank you,” You said.

“For what?”

“Being you,” You sighed. “I’m not precisely fascinated with all the flowers in the bedroom, but the fact that you are, makes me feel better”

“Why, you’re welcome, sweet’eart. Thank you for helping me with my hair,” He said looking at you and giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Anytime,”

[redivia]

'I think it's time for bed' Ghost x Reader

Summary: Simon fell asleep on the couch after coming home from work.

Authors note: Heyy! So this is my first ever story. I never thought I would write anything let alone post it, but here we are. Also it has to be said that I don't have a beta reader so if you notice any errors or mistakes kindly point them out in the comments. English isn't my first language so I might have missed some errors. Have fun reading! <3 This is also posted on AO3 .

You were sitting on the couch together with Ghost, or how he wants you to call him, Simon. Outside you could hear the wind blowing through the leaves of various bushes and trees surrounding your joint home. Since it’s been getting colder, the wind was accompanied by some light rain. Not the kind of rain that leaves you drenched if you even think about stepping outside, but the kind that makes the nicest pitter patter noises on your roof. If you listened carefully, you could even, make out the water making its way across the roof and cascading down the rain gutters that ran along the side of your home.

Simon came home a few hours ago, seemingly pretty tired and ready to go to bed, but his face lit up and adorned a fatigued smile once he saw you. You welcomed your boyfriend home with a much-awaited hug and a gentle kiss. Together you ate dinner. During your dinner you made sure to make light conversation with him. Talking about how the weather suddenly switched up on you while you were walking home, or how there was a sale on your favourite snack at your local store and you were therefore indirectly forced to stock up again.

Dinner wasn't really anything that took tons of effort, but it was still as comforting as ever. A simple one pot pasta had to make do for tonight, but for Simon, he might as well could have been at a Michelin star restaurant. Having to rely on MRE's as his main source of calories during his time at work, has set his standards for food very low. A warm meal? With his partner? At home? He might as well be in heaven. Simon made sure to show you his gratitude in the form of cleaning up the dishes afterwards.

Which in all honesty, could have just been shoved into the dish washer and called it a day, yet he insisted on doing them by hand. Meanwhile you were sat next to him on the countertop and listened to him complaining about some new recruits that were trying to turn everything into a competition.

Being able to look at his face and watch his emotions flicker across his face while he was telling a story has always been one of your favourite aspects of your relationship. Simon swore a long time ago that he won’t be wearing his mask around the house, and you’ve been grateful that he stuck to his promise. The privilege of getting to see his face wasn’t something Simon granted to just anyone, and you are well aware of the fact. Making it even more special to you.

The story about the recruits ended in them trying to sabotage and deliberately throw other comrades off of the obstacle course. Some poor rookie had to get stiches because he fell off of the wall they were meant to jump over. But Simon witnessed how the recruit behind him gave the guy in front a not-so-gentle push, because the poor guy was moving too slowly for his taste. It goes without saying that Ghost delivered a long and proper talking to and maybe some extra rounds of running for the saboteur.

While his story came to a close, Simon had also finished the dishes. You both agreed that you only had enough energy left for a movie before deciding on heading to bed.

So that's how you found yourself and your boyfriend sat on the couch in your living room, watching whatever action movie that was currently running on the TV. You listened to Simon ramble and rant about how inaccurate basically every single aspect of the movie was. How they held the guns wrong, shooting for 5 minutes straight without reloading once, not to mention the amount of ammunition they would need to carry with them for them to be able to shoot as much as they were.

All you could do was listen to him with a small grin on your face. Only Simon would be able to pick apart some movie that was clearly produced in some warehouse in Hollywood, with a plot that never even saw the inside of a writer’s room. But of course, you supported your boyfriend in his strong opinions and joined him in his rant.

It must have been about an hour into the movie when you noticed Simon had stopped talking to you. You risked a small glance over at him and saw he was properly passed out. The stress of the day at work must have finally caught up to him. Taking the liberty, you turned down the volume of the TV just a couple of notches, making it so that the movie was now just background noise.

When you were designing the living room you deliberately chose a three-seater couch, ensuring that there would always be enough space for you and Simon to stretch out without hogging the space from the other. Leaning into his side of the couch, your boyfriends arms sat limply at his sides, his right hand placed on your thigh just above your knee.

Normally he would be stroking his thumb gently from side to side as a reminder that he was still there. Honestly you should have noticed that he was asleep once his ministrations ceased. You took a moment to admire how is face changed depending on whatever light flickered across the screen in front of the both of you. In your opinion, he looked the nicest in a subtle orangish tone, the warm light bringing out his faint freckles and blond lashes. Although the universe refused to grace you with your all-time favourite feature of his, his eyes. You would have to make do with Simon’s for once peaceful expression.

Peaceful, but not relaxed, you noticed. There was still a light crease between his eyebrows, even while sleeping he still seemed stressed. Thinking of possibilities to diminish his stress, you gently picked up the hand that was previously placed on your thigh, without waking him up. Simon’s large and warm hand lay limply in yours, and you started to gently massage his hand.

Running your fingers across his knuckles and the back of his hand. Making sure to appreciate every single small cut and faded scar along the way. You carefully turned his hand palm side up and started to massage the palm of his hand with both of your thumbs. The rest of your fingers were supporting what was now the underside of his hand. Your thumbs dug into the muscles of his palm running across all of the folds and creases, before moving to his fingers.

Feeling his fingerprints underneath your fingertips made it feel like he was your missing puzzle piece you have been searching for all your life. Two separate people coming together to make a whole. You couldn’t stop the smile that was now plastered on your face.

Glancing back at Simon, his eyebrows seemed to have relaxed a bit, but not enough for your liking. You had to take drastic action. You lifted your dominant hand to his face you stroked your thumb across the space between his eyebrows in hopes of completely erasing his frown. Your mission was a success, he stopped frowning.

However, he was now blearily blinking awake. The universe obviously had chosen to show mercy today and decided to grace you with his dreamy eyes once again. Your hand slid a bit lower, now resting on his cheek, your thumb still lazily stroking the side of his face.

With a small smile you told him: 'I think it’s time for bed'.

[inkluvs]

sunburnt

cowboy!steve harrington x reader

content warnings: super fast paced ; fake dating ; they r exes ; uhhh forced proximity i think ; most likely inaccurate southern slang ; (2.0k)

summary: steve and you broke up a few years ago. but you live in a small town, and when you bump into him this time round, you’re told to go for it, or him, perhaps

a/n: ok this is v short just a baby one shot that i’ve been hoarding in my drafts for way too long <3 thank u for reading xoxo

masterlist / taglist

Steve’s nose is dusted pink, the freckled skin sunburnt from one too many times in the heat without protection. His lips are twisted into a smile. The kind that feels rare. The kind that has the same effect on you as a shooting star or an eclipse. You have to stop and stare for just a moment, turning the smile on his face from one of joy to the teasing kind. 

The way you’re staring isn’t rude in any way, just more intense, full of the need to pull at the seams of his very being to figure out how he is who he is; To figure out how the same person, who’d been cooing at a puppy a moment ago, a furry tiny thing, can now be staring back at you with the same intensity, his mouth opening, and closing as he does so. 

The leather hat on his head is a faded brown, clearly well-loved over the years. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, taking with it any hope that he’ll say something — anything.

It’s laughable really, the way that even after all these years you still find yourself staring. That you stayed there. In that fancy restaurant with the fizzy drink you ordered on your left-hand side and the boy, you’d just been staring at in front of you. He was younger, his hair darker and his skin lacking the freckles he’d gain in the years to come.

You stayed there.

In the way Steve put his hand on yours when the words left his lips. The same lips that’d kissed you so many times you’d lost count. The same lips that’d mouthed at the slope of your cheek every time you smiled because he thought it was endearing. 

Your memory isn’t that great really, but somehow you’d managed to engrave every detail of that moment into your mind, down to how Steve’s voice had lifted at the end of each sentence. Like he was asking you a question rather than informing you of something. Like if you’d begged he would’ve listened. 

You thought about it — about pleading with him to stay and asking him what went wrong, convincing yourself for a while that closure was what you needed. But it didn’t seem to matter now. 

No amount of closure could truly satisfy you and time had taught you that. No amount of closure would prevent bumping into him at the grocery store or the way heat still blossomed in your chest when he looked at you. No amount, you’d decided, would fill the gap he’d left in his wake.

“You’re starin’,” the voice comes from beside you, a little boy whose face you only half recognize, “my Ma says it isn’t nice to stare.”

“Yeah?” he nods, “tell your Ma it’s only rude if they catch you.” The boy grins and turns around, no doubt running home to tell his mother what you had said. You imagine she’d laugh at that, shuddering and failing to hide a smile as she tells off the boy for believing such things. The boy would then nod in confusion. Perplexed as to the way his mother’s words and expression contradicted each other, and that would be the end of that. You assume so at least.

What you don’t expect, however, is the boy coming back a few minutes later, this time tapping the man you’d just been staring at on the shoulder. A part of you wants to call out, to stop the boy from saying something he doesn’t know the consequences of, but one small foreign part of you tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing. The boy points at you and there’s that smile again splitting Steve’s cheeks, the kind that lights a fire underneath your skin, slowly melting you like wax from the inside out. Steve pushes his hand down quickly, checking to see if you’d noticed before turning back.

“Your Ma ever told you that pointing is rude?”

“She says it’s only rude if they catch you.” Laughter bubbles in your chest like water in a tea kettle and you try your best to suppress it, a huff of laughter making its way from your throat instead. 

“Think this one already has,” Steve gently lifts the boy's hand with his index finger until he was pointing to you again, “Look.”

“Talk to her then.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, though to anyone else it might have been. The concept seems foreign to Steve – you haven’t been in his life for years now so why would he bother changing it now?

“What?” 

“She was just starin’ at you, it only makes sense.” 

“Guess it does,” he lets go of the hand in his, his eyes flitting from yours, now looking back at him, to the encouraging ones of the boy in front of him.

“You’re stalling,” he observes, “why are you stalling?’

“I am not stalling,”

“Why are you here,” Steve tilts his head, as if to say, fair point, before turning back to you. A shiver ripples through his spine, distributing all of his nervous energy to the tips of his fingers and toes. 

One foot in front of the other, he decides. He stepped forward, his right foot now an inch closer to you, then his left, and before he knows it he was tapping on your shoulder.

“Long time,” 

“Wonder why that is,” he almost smiled at that. After all these years, you’re the same. The same tendency to speak before thinking that he had adored at some point, the same crinkle in your nose he’d grown fond of years ago. 

“Sorry,” 

“Don’t go ‘round saying things you don’t mean”

“I do—“

“You don’t.” There is a sort of weary resignation in your voice, the kind that showcases the years you spent wondering what you’d done wrong. He isn’t sorry, and he would make the same decision over and over if he was given the same options today.

His lips part ever so slightly, heart-shaped and pink, “you see the boy over there,” his words topple on top of one another as he rushes to change the topic, “little shit pushed me in this direction, something about it only making sense.”

“Figured,” you pause, considering your next words, “did the same to me.”

“D’you think he’ll notice if we go our separate ways?”

“I think he’d grab us by our ears and push us together like dolls.”

“Doubt he’d be able to reach our ears.” He says, his voice lifting with a crack of humor.

You’re laughing now, a lovely sound he doesn’t realize he missed until he heard it. “Our ankles then.” 

“So we're stuck?”

“Don’t act like this is the worst thing in the world,” you smile. “There were times when you’d pay to be near me.”

“Still would peach,” he murmurs. “S’just an observation.”

“An observation hm?” Steve nods. “What else is an observation?”

He ponders the question for a moment. “You haven’t changed at all, same attitude and tongue like a whip.” That he’d always adored, he wanted to add, but he didn’t, no point in telling you things he’d told you multiple times before. No point in reminding you of things he’d rather not think about. 

“Yeah?” Steve hums in agreement, “And what gives you that impression?”

“The boy,” his voice is low, both rough and smooth in a way that made your skin burn, “when he pointed to you, I asked him if he’d ever been told by his Ma pointing is rude, y’know what he said?” 

You do. “No.”

“He said ‘s only rude if they catch you,” his breath is warm against your neck and suddenly you realize he’s gotten closer to you, “and something tells me his Ma isn’t the one who taught him that.”

“Why would you think that?” 

The corners of his mouth twitch and you mirror him, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. He swallows in a desperate attempt to stifle his laughter, failing a moment later. He’s right. You haven’t changed and you haven’t yet decided if you like that or not. 

He looks at his wrist, as if to check his watch, only to find the skin bare, a slight tan line apparent from hours spent in the sun. His face falls.

“Lost your watch?” you inquire. Steve adores that watch more than anything, though you can never figure out why. You just assume it was a gift of some sort.

“Stolen,” he mutters.

Your lips form an ‘o’ shape for a moment before breaking eye contact, “‘s about to be dark anyways,”

“I’ll see ya later then? Tomorrow?” You can hear the grin in his voice. You can hear it in the way his voice twisted into a pretty breathy noise at the end of his question, hope tainting his tone.

“You askin’ me out Harrington?”

“Depends,” he tapped his chin and you bit your tongue to hold back any remark you’d later regret, instead taking his bait.

“On what?” You wouldn’t ever tell him but you had the incomprehensible urge to squeeze him then, when his grin got wider and his cheeks split with the force of it. To make sure that this moment has substance and it isn’t something you conjured up in your free time.

“D’you want me to?” 

“Think the kid’s boutta answer for me,” his brows pucker, “So yes, for the boy.” You decide.

“For the boy.” He agrees.

“Till tomorrow then?” 

“Till tomorrow.” He agrees. There’s a sort of unspoken agreement between the two of you. Treat whatever it is that there still is between you like it doesn’t exist. Assume that every interaction from now on would be for the boy. No matter how much you enjoy it, it couldn’t possibly be because you want it. Ridiculous.

-

He follows through the next day, though you half didn’t expect him to, opening the door to find Steve all dressed up with lavender in a bouquet. You tell him you’re just finishing your hair—you hadn’t even started. Steve can tell, noticing the familiar frantic note in your voice.

“Take as long as you want, yeah? I’ll be right here.” 

The sweet smell of flowers travels down the hallway and reaches the bathroom. Heat blossoms in your chest and rolls over your skin, filling you until your cheeks are full of warmth. You’re out about 30 minutes later, haphazardly pulling a confused Steve into the bathroom to help you pick a necklace.

“Honey, couldn't you have shown me this out there?” He whispers after pointing to a piece of jewelry. 

“Didn’t think of that then,” you turn around and hand both ends of the chain to him before continuing.

“D’you get here okay?”

It’s a dumb question and you know it. He loves less than 10 minutes from you and he’s been to yours more times than you can count. But he indulges you.

“For the most part yeah, rode through a storm or two though.” You can feel a huff of his laughter against your neck as he fiddles with the clasp. Steve had never been good with chains and clasps smaller than his fingers, having grown accustomed to thick ropes and metal and leather reins.

“Oh?” Your lips quirk at the corners. “D’you dry off before you came in?”

“Of course, wouldn’t wanna get mud all on your floor now would I darlin’.” His tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips as he focuses, exhaling suddenly as he finally connects the clasps. “S’that it?”

Your thumb and index feel at the little chain links, searching for the clasp. “You know what?” You smile.

He mirrors it. “What?”

“I think you might’ve done it. Well done, Steve.”

“Did I?” He adjusts the necklace. “Maybe I did.”

“That’s what I like to call growth Harrington.”

“Yeah?” His voice is warm with affection. Positive reinforcement always did wonders for the boy.

You hum your approval, “Last time I asked you couldn’t even undo the latch when I handed it to you.”

“Last time you asked I was 17 and dumb.” His tone is flat like you’d struck a nerve. You aren’t exactly sure why—he’d brought your separation on himself. 

“‘m not exactly sure being able to successfully put on a necklace is what measures intelligence.” He smiles, your attempt to lighten the air having been successful. One day you’ll tell him that you only ask him to help with your clasps because the fire it lit under the skin of your neck was an addictive one. No matter how much time apart you’d spent and how bad he is at it you couldn’t help but crave it. But today isn’t that day.

“Couldn’t tell the difference between a stallion and a mare.”

“Steve, I still can’t do that.”

“Shit like that is part of my job peach.” His voice drops to a dramatic whisper. “Though if you really need to know you could always look at the underside. ‘s pretty foolproof.”

A puff of laughter erupts from your throat. “Steve ‘m gonna ask you somethin’ and you gotta be honest.”

“Shoot.” He seems to know what you’re planning on asking him, warmth flushing his cheeks even before your lips part

“How many times have you done that?”

“Oh come on darlin’ now you’re just tryin’ to embarrass me.”

You smile and his cheeks flush with warmth

“You need humblin’ every so often, I'm just taking it into my own hands.”

“You want me to be honest?” You nod and his voice drops to a whisper, “A lot. More than you would believe.”

“Makes sense. You were always real good at limbo.”

He laughs at that. “You think I’m good at limbo all ‘cause of looking at a horse's underside?”

“You said it, not me.” 

His heart is filled with sticky sweet adoration, the feeling running through his veins and under his skin. “I’ve missed you, peach.”

“You gonna take me out first or not Harrington?”

“How could I possibly forget with you lookin’ like that? You all dolled up just for me?” He tips his head forward, the brim of his hat eye level with you as he takes your hand in his.

You press your hand to your chest, a little dramatic but that’s the point. “Who else would I look like this for, hm?”

Steve grins, the kind that’s gorgeous and just a bit too cocky and you love it. He tugs you out the door with that, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side door before getting in himself.

“Say, the storm you rode through, which horse got stuck in it with you.”

“Think it’s the one you named, Cinnamon.”

“You went through with naming that poor horse, Cinnamon? Steven, it was a drunken suggestion.” He laughs, warm and low.

“Cinnamon doesn’t mind it, I’ll tell ya a secret though,” his voice lowers to a whisper, “I think Nutmeg despises her for it. The whole spice thing.”

“Stole Nutmeg’s thing hm?”

“‘s what she says.”

Your finger trails up the length of his arm, connecting freckles on tanned skin. “‘s romantic y’know, riding the horse I named to my house.”

“Of course it is, I came up with it.” You tilt your head and lift a brow. He laughs. “Not without your help of course.”

You hate how much you perk up when he says that. You hate how much you want yourself to hate him but you can’t bring yourself to, because no matter how many times you thought over the way Steve left you however many years ago, he still has you. And you still have him. And neither of you want to say it, but in this moment the boy that's brought you together couldn’t be further from your mind.

[that-one-english-nerd]

The Outsiders x EPIC : The Musical -

so i was listening to the new EPIC saga yesterday and naturally, because i can’t listen to music w/o relating it to my hyperfixations, i started thinking about the outsiders. specifically, i was listening to luck runs out and my friend and i were talking… and we were like “this song is so soda talking to darry about going to war,” so this sparked this post!

so i got to re-listening to the entirety of epic and was thinking how much it fits if soda were to genuinely survive the war but come back only a shell of himself… so this is what were going with.

(i will say before we even begin, i have limited knowledge on the vietnam war so if some of this is vague or inaccurate, forgive me)

i think there two ways you could picture this, a greek mythology au and realistic, vietnam war au. i was thinking, if we’re talking in reality standpoint, all the gods or even monsters are visions in soda’s mind (due to ptsd, other mental illness gained from war or physical injuries) as he’s traveling and committing more and more violence. is some of this a strench…? yes but this is js for kicks and giggles, humor me here lolol

either way, these are my assignments of characters. i need you to HEAR ME OUT (there’s explanations of songs under the list of characters) on these -

odysseus : soda

polites : steve

eurylochus : tim

zeus : dally

polyphemus : ……..bob

athena : darry

aeolus : cherry

circe : marcia

hermes : two-bit

penelope & telemachus : ponyboy & darry (these can be switched, doesn’t matter rlly)

calypso: sandy (…get it, cause calypso lives on an island)

poseidon : dally

tiersus : johnny (cause i HAD to include him somewhere)

song and character explanations under cut ~

song explanations :

the horse and the infant - i like to think that, while it was awful and so much worst than soda could of ever imagined, because of his constant optimism and general skills, he was someone many of his fellow soldiers looked up to. i’ll get into details when i get to luck runs out, but if we’re relating this specifically to epic, making him apart of the navy would work best (being all the time they spend traveling and at seas). anyways, therefore, overtime, due to his higher morale and just general skills, he gets a higher rank and a crew to care for. soda is rallying his crew for an attack, and thinking of who he was fighting for, ponyboy and darry.

now this is where it would differ from a greek mythology au, but just for the sake of making it easier on myself, this is the more realistic possibility. i like to think that being how in epic, this is the end of the trojan war, this would be a kind of flash forward, after soda had already been dealing w all this trauma. but, as i’ve mentioned, i like to envision dally‘s ghost (a vision soda has of him at least) as zeus, specifically before soda has to do something terrible to the enemy. dally is like, “you’re in a war man, just *do it*.”

for a less interesting but more realistic answer, you could say zeus was one of soda’s commanding officer or something but that’s less fun lolol

anyways, this is the beginning, as it is for odysseus, of soda completely losing his innocence.

just a man - (tw for child-related violence and war crimes) so, as it is in epic, you could picture this as an enemy leader’s son, and how this boy reminds soda of ponyboy in a way. this song is kinda self explanatory tho, soda takes this blow, and this guilt plagues his mind for the rest of the first act.

full speed ahead - so, with the vietnam war, there was an insaneeee draft process. and in relation to the story, those who were poor were more likely to be drafted than those who were going to college and able to pay tutition, being how they got an exemption from the draft. so i think the idea as tim of all people getting drafted and getting put under soda’s command (which is a shock to both of them) really interesting, being how we never really got to see their dynamic in the outsiders. so having tim, whose more on the ruthless side, as soda’s right hand and being more quick to violence makes sense to me. on the other hand, my favorite character headcanon, steve as polities. i think the idea of steve not giving a second thought to following soda into war makes a lot of sense, and being how soda had more of a responsibility on his shoulders, steve keeps more of his naiveness and “innocence” than soda does.

open arms - my stevepop heart loves this so much. over the time of war, soda became less and less like his normal self and steve knows that. he could always tell. so once they finally have time to themselves, he tries to remind soda of how life used to be, how there’s still good. the roles switch from soda normally being the optimistic one, reassuring everyone else, to steve doing the same for him. they mean sm to your honor :((

warrior of the mind - now, from a plot standpoint, i can fs see this as what soda pictures how darry would think of him now, or even how ponyboy would. soda kinda flashes back to their childhood, how both darry and soda were really close when they were kids, being how they both balanced each other out. but after their parents died, darry became a parental figure instead, athena-like you could say.

but ignoring plot, i think song really fits darry and ponyboy, espically with the “don’t disappoint me” and “he’s a warrior of the mind” because of ponyboy’s academic achievements.

polyphemus - now do i know how this would fit into the plot to be honest.. i just think the idea of bob (bob’s ghost if you will) or some soc showing up in soda’s path makes sense.

butttt once again, if you want something more realistic, you could make it someone on the enemy side.

survive - soda just seems like he’d be hella good with battle morale and strategy, what can i say? …also, as much as it breaks my heart, steve following soda into war and dying an early death makes sense but is equally as heartbreaking ;(

remember them - i think the slow fade-in near the beginning of the song gives very big soda energy. disassociating but then switching right back into gear (masking emotions for the sake of others) is something that comes natural to him. i also commented on this earlier but for as much as soda calls himself dumb, i think his street smarts are really good and being able to talk his way out of things or tricking people into believing lies is something he’s great at (which makes sense in context of the cyclops plot). plus the stupid decision of having mercy on…bob, a soc, an enemy, idfk, and then telling them his name makes more sense in the context of just losing steve and therefore making rash decisions because of this sudden lose.

my goodbye - soda seeming to “lose” darry’s positive view of him, at least in soda’s mind, because of all he had done and lost. this, of course, is simply what soda thinks darry would say if he was there. because of this, he pushes the “what would darry do?” mindset out of his head.

storm - not much to highlight in this song except for how soda is a badass captain™️

luck runs out - now of course, i keep mentioning this song as the beginning of this war au because while s.e. hinton technically said soda was drafted, i think it’s very possible that soda and his optimism view on life would easily be more swayed to propaganda to enlist rather than be drafted. plus, with becoming a soldier, a certain amount of money is given to you monthly (at least i think-). this, i think, is another pro to the idea of enlisting in soda’s mind because he wants to help better provide for his brothers.

but generally plot wise, soda taking on this positive mindset of “i can just go and ask for help” is almost a tribute to steve and what he wanted. but on the other hand, you have tim, who knows that not everyone is as welcome to help, especially after dally died from police brutality.

keep your friends close - not much to say about this either but for the fact that aeolous being cherry is very fun to think about. while the meaning of this lyric means very different things in the context of the outsiders versus epic, the line “keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” does really fit with cherry. ponyboy being the “enemy” that she quickly befriends and keeping him close. but soon, she starts giving info to the greasers, the socs in her eyes almost becoming the real “enemy”. might be wrong though, interpret it however you like, i just think it fits cherry!

also the “everything’s changed since polities” line really fits into how i think soda would grieve for steve while still at war. he has to stay strong for his crew but they all sense, *know* something’s off with soda, and put the pieces together that this is because of steve. without steve, soda doesn’t have as high of a morale on life in general, and therefore the crew doesn’t. which fits in with them (kinda accidentally) turning on him.

ruthlessness - now HERE ME OUT HERE, if bob is the cyclops, rather than dally seeing him as a “son”, him being like “you had mercy on a SOC.” but the “you had mercy on the enemy?!” also works. just in general, i think dally’s memory coming back to haunt soda, espically paired with dally also being zeus, is fitting honestly. while dally wasn’t always ruthless, we gotta keep in mind in this au, this is in soda’s mind. these “gods” or visions of people he once knew, in my eyes, are people coming back to haunt him in his most shameful state. no matter what dally would’ve really said, i picture soda thinking how disappointed the people he loved most would be in him if they saw him in that very moment. also, “ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves” is SO dally.

puppeteer - now again, being how circe is a witch, it’s a bit hard to fit this into a realistic setting but i js thought having marcia as her would be fun bc paired with…

wouldn’t you like - two-bit as hermes, i just think i’d be hilarious. i like to picture this as soda and two-bit on two ends of a phone, and for whatever reason, marcia is there distracting the crew from their goal. soda on one line would be like “so do you know of a soc named marcia” and two-bit on the other end like, “OMG WE WENT OUT ONE TIME, this is how to scare her off”

done for - self-explanatory, not much to say here tbh. marcia’s just iconic.

there are others ways - (with my stevepop heart) if like to think that *right after* steve’s death, it would be pretty much impossible for soda to be “seduced” as well as the idea of pony and darry waiting for him would keep him focused on the end goal in that moment.

the underworld - i kinda like the idea of the underworld not being the actual underworld but a very dark and dangerous place, with the visions of the dead and soda’s past traumas coming back to bite him in that moment. the line between reality and fiction is a hard line to draw in that very moment. ALSO STEVE AND SODA’S MOM😭😭

no longer you - you know i HAD to include him somewhere, so here’s johnny finallyyyyy. i don’t really have much of an explanation other than being johnny’s quieter personality, him seeing everything in a way, him being tierras just makes sense.

monster - soda losing his mind finally and willing to do anything to drive these ghosts of the past out of his mind and get home to his brothers. self-explanatory :)

being how all the songs aren’t out yet, i’m just gonna stop here. thanks for listening to my yapping my boredom has created :) enjoy listening!

[skipppppy]

Anyway I’m bored and Carmen Sandiego renaissance is on the brain. What are these characters like when they aren’t focused on the main plot?? Non VILE/ACME/Caper related dialogue seems so few and far between.. I wish we got to see their lives outside work. So I made some headcanons abt it

CARMEN

Player was her first exposure to the outside world so she probably holds a lot of his nerdy interests close to her heart. She’s not the best at video games but plays them regardless. She especially enjoys sci-fi horror movies from the 80s that go big on practical effects

Finding random trivia about different countries is genuinely one of her favourite hobbies. The little info segments she does are not part of the edutainment show. She is genuinely just like that. This woman is a trove of fun facts please let her unleash them upon you

In the same vein she LOVES quizzes. After missions she will drag Team Red to any bar doing a trivia night in her vicinity and will wipe the floor with everyone there. Fear her

Enjoys people watching. It’s why she’s so good at charming strangers despite her socially stunted upbringing. She’ll sit alone in a busy train station for hours and watch everyone pass her by

PLAYER

Look. We know this kid is a nerd. It’s canon. But which niche of nerdiness does he fall into exactly?

Despite being an avid gamer he isn’t very competitive about it. He prefers single player rpgs, especially ones with active modding scenes. He doesn’t even know what vanilla Skyrim looks like he probably wasn’t even born yet when it released

He will, however, duo queue with Carmen on unranked Overwatch. They are both terrible at it and think it’s the funniest shit

Enjoys sitting back and watching a good speedrun. Will have a video of someone doing a stupid BOTW challenge in the background while he hacks security cameras and such

Runs a DnD campaign for Team Red which they’re all crazy invested in. Shadowsan is the only one who doesn’t care for it but he keeps rolling nat 20’s on the dumbest shit and derailing the campaign and he finds everyone’s reactions too entertaining to stop. They have a rivalry only a DM and a stupidly lucky rogue could have

ZACK

We already know he’s kind of a meathead that enjoys sports and cars and cheesy action movies but I also think he has a lot of softer hobbies that he keeps to himself bc he knows they won’t take him seriously

He’s a secret crocheter. He’ll mend the team’s clothes when they rip but that’s the extent of their knowledge. He’ll sit for hours by himself and knit while listening to music. Sometimes Shadowsan will find a new pair of socks in his bag. When Carmen got sick once she woke up with a handmade blanket draped over her. Ivy has her suspicions but doesn’t wanna intrude

He loves animals. He never really brings it up because no one ever asks. He always checks out local zoos and aquariums if he has the chance. Grew up watching Steve Irwin-esque nature shows and still does to this day

His love of eating is less out of greed and more his own form of cultural appreciation. Idk what happened to his and Ivy’s parents but for reasons he can’t explain their cooking is one of the few things he hasn’t forgotten, so he has a lot of sentimental food-based memories. And experiencing other countries cuisine connects him with that

IVY

PERIOD DRAMAS. They don’t have to be good they just have to be steamy. She enjoys the hot women in pretty dresses. She and Carmen watch Bridgerton together and laugh about how historically inaccurate it is

She LOVES renfaires and similar high fantasy roleplaying communities. Someone please buy this woman a suit of armour

As an engineering prodigy AND fantasy buff she has a massive interest in Blacksmithing and Swords. That’s her designated lesbian hobby. She’s been trying to politely worm her way into a conversation with Shadowsan about the blade he returned to his brother for months now but isn’t sure if it’s too personal of a topic for him so she’s nervous

Her sweet tooth encompasses more than just chocolate. She’s secretly grateful to Zack since he takes most of the flack for being a glutton. She makes note of any bakeries they pass by on capers so she can come back later in secret and go ham on the pastries

SHADOWSAN

I think his interest in Samurai history starts and ends with his love for Hideo. He’ll happily discuss it and he’s studied it passionately, but out of a sense of respect and duty to do right by the brother he betrayed

He will NEVER, EVER admit it to anyone but he genuinely misses the adrenaline rush from committing petty crimes. He was a criminal for over 20 years. Lifestyles are hard to shake and change isn’t linear. He’d never succumb to impulse but he’s just kinda bored

He microdoses on the urge by pranking people. Everyone always blames Zack so he never gets caught. He also enjoys sneaking up on people and making them jump. He’ll always insist it’s unintentional. It isn’t

He’ll read and meditate and train to keep himself centred but he’s still a rowdy young punk at heart. Team Red is the first taste of freedom he’s had after a lifetime of VILE faculty monitoring him. The first thing he bought for himself after settling in at the San Diego HQ was a motorbike. The second was a new tattoo. The third was a potentially lethal amount of whiskey that he drank in one sitting

JULIA

We know she has a passion for history outside her work in Law Enforcement so she definitely goes to all kinds of museums in her free time. She’s the kind of person who enjoys learning just for the sake of learning (she and Carmen have that in common)

Outside of that she’s surprisingly good at karaoke? She gets stage fright but really likes singing and will go all out if you hype her up. Her taste in music is the exact opposite of her appearance and personality. Lots and lots of death metal

An aficionado for different types of tea. She keeps like 10 flavours in her house at all times. She especially likes floral ones that taste light and sweet. She hates iced tea with a passion though

Goes to botanical gardens whenever the weather is warm and the season is right. She likes the history of the old manor houses but she also loves admiring the landscaping and the blooming flowers. She could sit on a bench surrounded by local flora and fauna for hours

DEVINEAUX

Chase is an entirely different person when he’s off the clock. The unhinged high-energy maniac who froths at the mouth about La Femme Rouge goes dormant once he gets home. Especially after he got stranded on VILE island. That really gave him some introspection about work/life balance

The biggest, softest, sappiest hopeless romantic you will ever meet in your life. Passion is just part of his nature and he gets his heart broken A LOT. It’s why he throws himself into his work

He’s a really good chef. Like REALLY good. Before he was a cop he did a few summers as a line cook in his teen years and he retained most of the knowledge. His pantry is STACKED and he tries out recipes he picked up from his ACME travels in his free time. He’s a tad snobby about it because he’s French but you will not complain about the stuff he feeds you

Old movie enjoyer. His favourites are film noirs, cheesy romances, creepy eastern european animation and german expressionism. He has a fervent hatred of Marvel

Also one of those insane people who get up at 5am to do cardio. One morning before a mission he met Agent Zari with barely a glisten of sweat on his forehead and sadly informed her that he only got to run 15k and he wished he had time to do more. That was the first time she ever knew fear

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hello! I am obsessed w ur Maze runner fics omgggg. could I request a Gally x female reader where shes autistic and the gladers think shes just a little strange but he thinks her quirkiness is cute!! love you 😇

FINALLY I get to write for my boy Gally.

I'd like to preface this by saying I am probably neurodivergent myself, but I am not diagnosed or an expert and I have researched into autistic traits in girls for this piece. I am sorry for any inaccuracies.

A BIT DIFFERENT PT. 1

MASTERLIST | GALLY MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2

SUMMARY: See above. Track-hoe! Fem! Autistic! Reader x Gally. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some of the Gladers acting like dicks, my potentially slightly inaccurate depiction of autism. That's it.

You aren't quite like the other Gladers.

Well, the obvious is that you're a girl- a very rare occurrence in the Glade since you're the only one.

Though, you're not the kind of girl the Gladers expected (*cough* wanted *cough*). Based off of their very limited and slightly stereotypical knowledge of women.

Obviously.

When you came up in the Box, you panicked more than most. Which can easily be because you were a girl surrounded by a dozen boys. Which is terrifying.

But then you didn't speak.

The emotions and stress of it all led to you becoming completely non-verbal. It wasn't that you didn't want to speak, but it was like every time you tried, no words came out.

Most of the boys tried talking to you at least once, but they have no understanding of personal space and you hated how loud they spoke all the time.

A lot of them gave up after a while.

They thought you were weird. You avoided eye contact, weren't really sure how to read their emotions and hated the boisterous nature of the majority of the population.

Even when you did regain your voice, you took little interest in their conversations and they took your blank state as being rude. But you weren't being rude; you would listen and nod but you didn't take interest in them, so you didn't act like you did.

Things got better when you got a job as a Track-hoe. You found an affinity for plants and very quickly gave Zart a run for his money in the Gardens. Through experience and writing down all your findings in a small notebook Minho gave you during your first week or so when you wouldn't speak- you now know everything about the Gardens.

All of the plants name, their ideal growing conditions, all the uses they possess and even how to cook them properly. Frypan's veg stew has greatly improved since your arrival.

You could spend hours talking about the Gardens, though most of the boys don't really care about that.

A lot of the boys find you strange, like I previously said. There are a few that keep an eye on you and extend their kindness. Newt and Frypan amongst that crowd with Minho turning a blind eye to the robbery of his Map supplies so you can use them for your notes. It keeps your interactions brief and it means he doesn't have to endorce your plant rambles. The man is far too busy.

Though, not all the Gladers are simply being polite.

The first time you met Gally was when one of the boys stole your book and was teasing you about it. He punched him squared in the jaw, scaring the shit out of you and landing Gally a twenty-four hour hold in the Slammer.

You decided to approach him at his work after that, thanking him for looking out for you.

And you actually kind of became friends after that.

You held back at first, but when Gally started asking you about your job, you started telling him everything.

He actually genuinely enjoys hearing what you have to say. And he finds your blunt and occasionally out of pocket comments amusing.

He thinks it's cute. He doesn't really know when he started crushing on you. But your quirks and mannerisms always bring a smile to his face.

He also becomes your guard dog. Absolutely no one is going to mess with you, especially when the machine that is Gally is glaring at them from a few feet away.

You don't like Bonfire nights. Sure, it's great that you have another boy to add to the population, but you don't enjoy the celebrations. They're loud and the fires burn bright and everyone is touching or fighting. It makes your chest feel tight and you can hear the blood pumping around your skull. You hate it.

So, you sit away from the commotion, your legs crossed as you doodle another sketch of a plant, labelling the different parts.

"Yo, Green-thumb," you look up to find Gally approaching, two glasses of his suspicious liquid in hand. "Fancy a drink?"

Green-thumb is something he called you jokingly once, and now it's kind of stuck.

"Sure," you smile at him as he sits down next to you, passing you a drink. "Wouldn't you rather be enjoying the Bonfire?"

"Nah, I've kicked enough Greenie butt for one day." You scoff, putting your book down for a second to take a sip.

You visibly cringe at the harsh taste. You don't like the drink, but Gally's made it, so some small part of you is determined to drink it.

"Whatcha writing about today?" He picks up your book, admiring your handwork. "Yarrow, eh?"

"Mhm," you nod, fiddling with your pencil. "It's good for headaches and sickness. It's a wildflower I found in the Deadheads and moved some here so the Medjacks have easy access to it. It'll probably be useful in the morning if everything keeps drinking this klunk." You swill the drink around the jar and Gally chuckles.

"You don't have to drink it."

"I know," you unintentionally snap, "I want to. You made it."

Gally's heart flutters at this comment, even if it is just plain honesty to you. He looks away, blinking as he looks at your perfectly organised Gardens.

"What?" You ask.

"What what?"

"You look flustered."

"I'm not."

"Okay."

He hesitates, deciding to finally ask a question he's been meaning to ask. He clears his throat. "Would you, uh, would you ever consider dating someone?"

You tilt you head, looking at him whilst he avoids eye contact. "In the Glade?"

"Uh, yeah, if someone's caught your eye?"

You shrug. "Maybe. But you're the only person here I like."

There's a pause as Gally processes that. He knows you well enough by now that you don't mean it that way; you're just blunt.

"Yeah, but you like me as a friend, right?"

Now, you pause. Honestly, you're not really sure. You think Gally is attractive, but it's not like you're friends with many people to compare how you feel about Gally to how you feel about other friends.

So, you shrug.

The line of questioning is starting to make you panic, though.

Gally raises his eyebrow. "You... don't know?"

"Yeah, I don't know." He doesn't know what to say to this. "But it doesn't really matter, right?"

Friendships and relationships aren't that different. It's just a close friendship with some physical attributes.

That's it, really.

Gally knows you. But he's still learning to see things how you see them.

"Yeah, I guess."

This is the conversation that plagued Gally's mind for a long time.

He didn't mean to start acting like a dick. But Gally is Gally, and he isn't the best at expressing his emotions in a healthy way.

So, he unintentionally starts avoiding you.

Somehow, saying you don't know if you like him is worse than flat out rejecting him. And he'd rather go without.

You, however, are taking this horrendously.

It's been days now and safe far you've thrown a trowel at someone and ripped some fiddly vines off of one of the support growers.

The Glade is starting to notice your rise in temper, which ends up resulting in a confrontation.

You don't like confrontation, but it's been a week and you don't know what you've done wrong.

"Did I do something?" You ask Gally.

He's in the middle of his work, fixing one off the old shacks with a couple of other boys.

They all freeze.

It's rare for you to be away from the Gardens in the middle of the day, and they don't want to see why.

"Uh, give us a moment," Gally instructs his colleagues and they don't hesitate to listen. "Look, (Y/N)-"

"What did I do? Are you mad at me?"

"Wha- no." He sighs. "I'm not mad at you."

"Then what's wrong? Why are you avoiding me?" He goes silent for a moment. "Gally, what did I do? Do you not like me, anymore? Did I-"

"I like you."

You're perplexed. "I like you, too? So, why are you being a dick?"

"No," he scoffs, throwing his head back. "I like like you. Like, I wanna go on dates and klunk. A-and you said you didn't know how you felt about me and it was like you didn't even care."

You stand there, blinking at him.

In his absence, you realised that you do like Gally. You didn't think you'd miss talking to someone, you definitely don't care when don't hear from Newt or Frypan for weeks.

But you missed Gally.

He opens his mouth again to speak, but he doesn't get the chance when you rush towards him. Throwing your arms around him, you hug him, which completely startles him and knocks him backwards.

You've never hugged him before.

"I think I like you, too," you mumble as his arms come to loosely hang around your waist. You pull back slightly, looking at him.

He grins. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod.

His eyes flicker to your lips and you do the same before meeting his gaze again. "Can I kiss you?" You ask, forward as always.

He chuckles. "Please."

You lean forward, not quite sure what you're doing but it's a peck that sparks a fire inside you.

You pull away, resting your foreheads against each other, enjoying the peaceful moment.

"Oi," Alby makes you both jump from a few feet away, "get back to work, shanks. The shuck are you doing?"

You awkwardly step back, feeling heat rush to your face as you sheepishly look at the floor.

Gally, however, is grinning from ear to ear.

You like him.

And that's more than enough for him.

First Gally fic done. A bit shorter than some others but I wasn't quite sure what else to do with this.

I hope you enjoyed anyway :))

[mmc-veronica]

NeverEnding Story - A' English Translation

wow. its been a while. here's the final part to A''s Unlimited drama cd! this is not proofread and i'm a bit sick right now so sorry if some of the translation is inaccurate! translation is under the cut!

Well? How is it?

Right?! And on top of that, did you notice anything?

Wow! As expected of my Honey! This… I didn’t know which part I should spoil! Ermm… well as you heard, I tried to make a song based off of a day in the life with my Honey! Well you see, as the leader, I have to spread around a charged up happiness and doesn't turning a day filled with happiness into a song kind of sound perfect for that? Well to be honest I think I made it too personal, but I think the beauty of the E-tan world kind of drowns it out! Well either way, with the power of the happiness of this song, the Girls that will listen to this will have a freeing and indulgent type of happiness that’ll rain down on them, there’s no doubt…well?!

Right? Right? That’s the type of song that I wanted! How do you say… a song that makes you have fun just by listening to it! Well… putting aside the fact that the other members were drunk as hell while finishing up the song, it turned out the way I wanted so for now it’s okay! More than anything, I got to see my Honey’s smile, so it’s no problem and there’s still tens of millions of points worth of appeal! 

Ehehe, what’s with that? But! But! With that included, it’s all going to my plan! As the Ambassador of Happiness, the most important thing is my own happiness, I’ve told you before!

Well of course I’ll let you listen to it! Um… but I’ll say this first, it’s not a sad song or anything, so don’t get any wrong ideas, okay?

Well to those who don’t know anything, probably. I think they’ll just think “oh lalala what a nice song,” I think even my own members think that but… I’ve already told you a lot so I’d feel bad if you read too much into it. On that note, if you listen to it until the very end, I believe you’ll know what kind of song it is.

Yay! Then I’m looking forward to it even more now! With that being said, the curtain is rising on the stage of A’, spreading happiness even further! 

[Mirror House starts playing]

I would’ve changed it without being told!

Agh!!! Don’t bring my Honey into this conversation!

What’s some masked guy like you going to do about this?!

Ahh.. ugh! We’ve just unveiled our new songs and I wanted to have some fun with my Honey but that fucking bastard is so extreme! Ah, Honey-san, there’s a step right here so watch your step~

Fuck! I didn’t hear anything about an equipment inspection for the studio, give me a break!

Um… well… I guess I do want people to listen to our new song’s first performance in a good atmosphere. I guess that’d be a good thing! 

Gasp Really?! If you say that my usual self confidence goes up exponentially! 

Ehehe, that’s natural, though! If it’s not like that then there’d be no meaning to it, right? It has meaning because I’m the one singing it. It’s a song for me, right? But… the reason I wrote that song… is because I have you by my side. 

Hehe! There you go again, saying things like that! You’re always so modest~ Well, even so my love for you is exploding

Heh! Just as I thought, you understand it properly! That song’s true meaning, I mean. 

Well I wonder, where is it? But… I think that I should try to go everywhere that I can, as NSFW’s Charisma Vocalist and Ambassador of Happiness E-tan, or A’. I say all that, but of course you’ll be by my side, too. From now on, and on, and on, and on~! Yes! Thank you~ Kiss

Mmhmmhmm! This is it! The flavor that can make me the happiest in the world! It’s name is Honey~! How should I put it… I’m in the mood right now to pin you down right now but this is the staff entrance to the agency so there someone could come at any moment like another guy or another guy or a Momo-san who’s on his way to take a smoke break! What we need right now is a private place to escape to, I know~! So with that being said, Honey-san, let’s set forth to the Yamanote line to my place, of course! And with no delay, let's go!

[phoenixisobsessed]

You know I interest with scenario human and bots or cons sharing in a human body.

I will pick sam (because he unlucky top of list and easy pick ) when sam shove Allspark into Megatron chest Allspark decide to put Megatron spark into Sam's body and they forced to sharing same body.

The funny part in this scenario that sam must listen Megatron ranting about how weak and fragile sam body is and really questioning how human can survive with wak body.

I think we need more that scenario in fanfic because that is very rare. I have one story with that scenario

(Quickl disclaimer, sorry if this response is messy I am currently having a migraine. Don’t worry though, I just took my migraine medication. Should kick in soon and they make me extremely eepy so I’m trying to race them LMFAO.)

Transformers does have interesting concepts of like consciousness, especially between robot and human. Like for example in Transformers Prime, Bumblebee goes into Megatron’s head, but a part of Megatron stays in Bumblebee because they didn’t pull out in time, (I am hilarious) and in Cyberverse there’s the whole “Windblade entering Bumblebee’s head” and stuff. (Why is it always Bumblebee goddamn) But these (in a way) make sense since, yeah, they’re robots. Hooking yourself up to something, or in these cases, somebody else, makes sense to cause consciousnesses to kind of “merge” or I guess just link? Be together? I don’t know how to say it properly.

And then…they decide that the same now works on humans as well? I don’t know if this means that human souls are like canon or something. Like I guess there may be some kind of electrical current connection between the human and robot in those cases (Sam putting the Allspark to Megatron’s spark / Spike being connected to a machine(?), transferring his consciousness to a mechanical body in gen1) but still. Humans aren’t a bunch of complex code in the way that a transformer is, (I’m not certain about that but I am just writing my thoughts) and this implies that this relates back to sparks and souls. So, are human souls canon in transformers? Maybe. And if so, it’s interesting that a spark and a human soul are so similar so that they can transfer between species, at least to a point, pretty successfully.

Like clearly, even if it’s not as deep as a consciousness transfer, humans and transformers can work together (literally). Most recent example being Mirage and Noah in the end of the movie when they merge, going all the way back to some of the older Japanese series (not gonna go into alla that rn).

And don’t even get me STARTED on the kind of connections they have in Earthspark with the Terrans. That rock is doing some crazy shit, and I don’t remember the lore of it. No I’m not looking it up right now.

And I mean, with the existence of Maximals and Predacons, there’s clearly proof that transformers can work together with organic matter at least somewhat.

I got so off topic ngl. Started going down theorising lane here for a second while we were talking about fanfics. This rabbit-hole goes so deep and I do not have the brains to figure it all out. But I agree, fanfics with this would be hilarious. Would read.

(I haven’t researched this at all and just took what information I could remember so excuse if any of this is crazy inaccurate or if answers to my questions already exist. Just thought this was a very interesting topic)

[ivorys-back]

New TWOF prequel incoming!

Okay, so you know how I've been infodumping a lot about Luzbel lately? Well, it's not for no reason because I'm making a new prequel that's all about him! It's called "Hymn of the Gods", and it's focused on Luzbel's growth as he struggles to fit in amongst the gods of the Skylands, all while facing the growing threat of the Underworld.

I just finished the Olympian's designs, and soon I'll be working on the Egyptians.

Let's kick things off with Zeus, the God of Thunder and the king himself! While he is a womanizer and has fathered many children with many mortal women, he still loves his wife Hera. He would split a planet in half for his children, and is very protective of his subjects, both divine and mortal.

Speaking of Hera, here she is! She's the goddess of marriage, and while she did always get mad at Zeus for cheating on her with mortal women, she just accepted that that's just how he is and she's calmed down about it. She's even friends with a lot of his spouses like Leto (Artemis and Apollo), Alcmene (Hercules), Semele (Dionysus), and many others.

Overall, she's very motherly and kind towards her children, but can also be very strict if they misbehave or are cruel to each other or other creatures.

Poseidon, the God of the Seas! Not much to say about him except that the sea reflects his mood, typical of an ocean god. On days when he's calm, the sea is calm and sailors can go by effortlessly. On days when he's pissed, the sea is tossing and turning with storms and tidal waves; he could drown a whole city if he wanted to, but he's not that ruthless. He's an excellent brother to Zeus and Hades, they make a great trio.

I've mentioned Hades a few times on this blog, and here he is in the flesh! He's the God of the Underworld, and despite him having a bad rep when it comes to underworld gods (I blame Disney for taking so many liberties with the Hercules movie; don't get me wrong, I like it, I just don't like how inaccurate it is to the real story), he's a nice guy and is always willing to listen if any of his subjects have something to say.

He loves his wife Persephone deeply, and would do anything for her. He's also became good friends with Orpheus after he died (he had to sit through at least an hour of tearful apologies of how stupid Orpheus was to look back at Eurydice), but now that Orphie and his beloved are reunited in the afterlife, all is well.

Demeter is the Goddess of the Harvest, and is easily the most strict and motherly of them all. She's very protective of her daughter Persephone, and while she had her complaints when Hades took her to the Underworld (they had been meeting in secret a few weeks prior because Persephone didn't want to be constantly controlled by Demeter all the time, and because Hades was the only one who treated her like an adult), she's alright about it now and even invites Hades over sometimes.

Hestia is the Goddess of the Hearth, and the oldest of her siblings (well, technically also the youngest since Kronos threw her up last since she was the first child he swallowed).

She's one of the more solitary gods, preferring to watch over and mingle among mortals since she enjoys their theatrics and culture.

Athena is the goddess of wisdom, and the oldest of the demigod Olympians. As we all know, she was expelled from Zeus' forehead after he swallowed his first wife Metis (who, in my AU, was expelled from him later in the same fashion), and as we know she came out full-grown and ready to kick some ass.

She's very smart and is well-read on all sorts of subjects, but she's also very smart and strategic when it comes to battle, which is where her association with war comes from.

Ares is the God of War, and exactly what you'd expect of him: brash, reckless, cruel, all that jazz. He's actually the real reason why Hephaestus is crippled the way he is.

In most stories, it's either Hera or Zeus that throws Hephaestus off of Mount Olympus after he's born, but in my AU it's Ares who pushed him when they were kids because he was jealous of how well-treated Hephaestus was compared to him (not that Ares wasn't treated well, he was just too much for his parents to handle). He was punished after this, and his ego only grew as he got older.

Hephaestus is the God of Blacksmithing, and is very calm and rational and smart. He brought the gift of machinery to man, and he made the first robots, which were made of bronze and given life so that they could move and do things all on their own.

He's very gentle as well, and despite the stories, he and his wife Aphrodite are a fabulous couple. He treats her very well and showers her with jewelry that he crafts himself, and her most prized treasure is the girdle he made for her as a wedding gift.

Aphrodite is the Goddess of Love, and that title is not lost on her. She's very sweet and gentle with everyone, and is more than willing to help out others with their relationships, whether it's romantic or not. She's deeply in love with Hephaestus, and hates Ares with a passion (the bad kind). The reason she married Hephaestus was because Zeus was afraid that the male gods would get into a fight over who would be her husband, and that someone would get hurt, so he asked her who she would like to marry and she chose Hephaestus.

As for the time when Ares got tricked and was caught up in chains, Aphrodite was sick and tired of Ares' constant advances and mistreatment toward her, so she and Hephaestus came up with a plan to trick him and expose his misdeeds to the gods. So Hephaestus created a net of chains that were so thin they were nearly invisible but were very strong, and strung them all around his and Aphrodite's bedroom, and instructed Aphrodite to wait for Ares to try and sneak in while he pretended to go on a trip. When Ares arrived, once he was within three feet of the bed he was suddenly caught and trapped in the net, and Hephaestus came back with all the other gods in tow. After that, Ares steered clear of Aphrodite and Hephaestus and just didn't even bother with them anymore.

Apollo is the god of the sun, healing, and music. He's very gentle but also kind of a wisecracker, and is one of the more laid-back gods. He runs an infirmary on Olympus, where he takes care of the injured after a battle or if there's an accident, and makes no exceptions to whoever he's healing.

Artemis is the goddess of the moon and the hunt, and is Apollo's twin sister. She's a bit of a tomboy, not even bothering with men (except her friendship with Orion), and spends a lot of time with her nymphs and dogs in the forest.

Hermes is the god of travelers, thieves, and messages. If anyone has a message to go to the other Skylands, they go to Hermes. That's partially why he's the smallest of the Olympians; his small size makes him faster, and he's mostly found hovering in the air or relaxing.

Last but not least, we have Dionysus, the god of wine and merrymaking. He's either too drunk or too sober, either way that's how you've got him. He's always one to host and go to parties and get-togethers in the Skylands (especially if there's booze, he bee-lines off to Asgard for those). He has a pet leopard, and looks after a grapevine that's grown so much it's all over the inside of his temple on Olympus now. Overall, he's a chill guy and good to hang out with.

And that's all I've got for the Olympians! I'll move on to the Egyptians, and then the Asgardians.

[this-is-krikkit]

You know I love me an Ask Game!

♥️ - family headcanon: for Hange

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon: for Levi

Please and thank you, dear Bolo 💜

thanks for sending this in, Citrouille, love ya <3

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♥️ - family headcanon - Hange

i have so many of these, thanks to the absence of canon material about their background. one of my favorites is Hange not having parents and being given up to an orphanage as a baby, where they met Mike and the two weirdos that they already were as kids stuck together and became each other's siblings. i also like to imagine them losing their parents because of titans, which could explain Hange's initial hatred for the giants when they joined the Scouts. were their parents both scouts in love who clandestinally had a child and therefore had to give it up with a letter explaining that to them later on? or was that a nice romantic story the people at the orphanage made up to cover for the fact that in reality only their mom was a soldier who nearly perished on an expedition while pregnant, and their other parent was some noble from Mitras who couldn't live with the scandal of that bastard child when she gave birth to them and died and the army traced the baby back to them, and instead gave Hange up immediately? i don't know, but i know i almost always imagine them as having no actual close family (and some dark/tragic story behind their conception and birth, alright). i think that comes from my mind making kind of an unexpected parallel between Hange and Temperance Brennan from Bones? they're both badass scientist people who are considered freaks because of their fascination for a topic others judge weird/dangerous/gross and have a very odd relationship to social norms, and i love them and will protect them both at all costs.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon - Levi

post canon, i like to imagine Levi drawing. i don't think he intended on learning it, i think he starts trying to learn how to use his left hand to write after his right hand got blown up. but forming letters with the wrong hand is really fucking hard and frustrating, yet another reminder of things he's not able to do anymore in this useless broken body of his, and he almost gives up before he remembers Hange's advice, all those years ago after he'd first joined the scouts and let them help his illiterate self to learn the skill and listened when they told him to try drawing the letters instead of writing them. it worked back then so he gives it a go, and the difference with that memory is that right now, he doesn't have to rush to learn how to write reports for a professional reason. no, now he's learning how to write again just so he can update the kids on his life in his little cabin in the woods and sign a formal document once in a while, and now he has time to waste on this kind of mundane shit since the war's over and he doesn't need to be Humanity's anything anymore. and soon he finds himself tired of drawing letters and words and wanting to draw Hange instead. maybe it's because that one picture he has of the two of them they took during their trip to Marley is starting to fade from how much time he spends folding and unfolding it out of his pocket to look at their goofy, ridiculous smile and the gigantic lolipop they'd shared, maybe he's sick of being able to recall so many of the thrillion of words they threw at his ears during the time they knew each other but he's starting to forget some details of what their face looked like. maybe he just misses them, alright? whatever the reason, it works, and during his first attempts at drawing them it already feels like the closest thing to being with them again -even though he can almost hear them howling in laughter at the result because it's so ugly and inaccurate and not anywhere near what he pictured. he laughs along with them and tries again the following day, and the next, and many other after that. until one day, he nails it. he really does; he looks down at his work and that's Four Eyes right there, that's as close to a photograph as his hand can get. and they look so real, and perfect -and still, and quiet- on paper, that he doesn't feel like laughing anymore.

[butterscotch-goat]

this was a trend a while ago, but I like the idea so. IDs in alt text, OC ramblings under cut

bro.listen bro even all the acts of kindness and good intentions and genuinely joyful moments couldn't stop the tragedy.bro. listen bro the catharsis dude listen

anyway in case it isn't clear: the 4th panel is what could have been (they graduate med school together) and the 5th panel is what was (The Ovening™ aka Charles gets murdered after he causes The Terrors™)

I didn't do that much research for 1880s kids fashion so plaese don't attack me I'm sure it's inaccurate

and yeah if you haven't noticed I really really really like exploring characters before The Terrors™ happened/the characters decided to Make Terrors™ happen (cough cough Lucy I'm looking at you cough cough) I just think it's neat

changed it from "every universe" to "every life" because I imagine the idea of past lives or reincarnation would be more common than the idea of multiverses back in the day

goodb ye