#it’s because he has big brown eyes like a baby cow. Probably

[steelycunt]

he is a loser and i do stand by that but i think there is something to be said for the way that at age eleven he turned up on that train robes shabby nose runny from crying when he said goodbye to his mam and within five minutes of meeting him he had the prettiest boy in school ruined for anyone else ever for the rest of his life. like he kinda did that sorry he came he saw he said maybe two words very quietly and he had this boy prince embarrassingly adoringly gone for him before they even came by with the snacks trolley. he kind of gagged the lot of them with that cmon

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

immortal apollo kids headcanons!

this is specifically for the rrverse versions of Apollo's immortal kids! but feel free to think about it in the mythology context too! :3

Hymenaeus

still has a room in Apollo's palace

still sleeps in it

but he also has a room in Eros's because he's an Erote

this makes for some awkward situations when Apollo and/or Eros have to go to the other's place to grab him for something or other

they basically share custody of him

divorced dads behavior

when he was little he tried to get people to marry his dad because he reeeally wanted to plan his dad's wedding

technically, he succeeded, because he was the one who made Apollo/Cyrene's marriage official XD

his hair is fluffy like a sheep's fluff. also somewhere between strawberry-blonde and a very light amber. and reaches to just under his chin. don't forget the floppiness tho >:3

has his dad's bright blue eyes

LOVES his dad's swans. and corvids. he loves birds.

probably because he also has wings

wings are brilliantly white with a soft pink and gold flush

never looks older than 16

many of the other Erotes find Apollo hot. Hymen is distinctly horrified to know this.

Himeros: Your dad's a DILF

Hymen: a what?

Anteros: don't you dare-

Himeros: A Dad I'd Like to FUCK-

Hymen: *much screaming*

Ialemus

also still has a room in Apollo's palace

as a matter of fact, he still lives in said room

his room is also in apollo's basement (he wanted it there)

he is the emo kid. but he's also not necessarily antisocial

he just likes his solitude. and honestly, mood

imagine dragons is a favorite band. and hozier. he likes "slower" songs as well as sad ones

has Apollo's long hair, but in a very dark brown

has vivid green eyes. like radioactive ones.

likes ponytails

cows are his favorite animal

they are calm creatures he can ramble too so he likes them

knows a lot about things. comes with listening rather than talking ;)

WILL infodump

Apollonides

these girls are the PARTY KIDS

they are the ones throwing parties in their dad's house at 2 am

they also still live in Apollo's palace

frequent clubs and discos; can be seen at concert venues and are in many of the big city concerts (ie, Las Vegas, Madrid, Vienna, ect.)

Borysthenis is the 'oldest' (Hypatē - the lowerest & first string on the lyre); has curly brown hair and dark green eyes

Apollonis is the 'middle' (Mesē - the middle string); has Apollo's blonde hair, but straight, and dark eyes (crow-like, even... >;3)

and Cephisso is the 'youngest' (Nētē - the highest string); has poofy black hair and silvery-blue eyes

Hypatē has a comfy sort of style, such as sweaters and sandals

Mesē likes to wear aesthetically dark clothes with silver accents

Nētē wears blouses and loose jackets

one time they highjacked the sun chariot and got away with it by pulling the puppy eyes

they have demigod children in CHB

Asclepius

the baby

died at 15- still treated like he's 10

snuck onto the Argo mission at 13

Idmon and Orpheus played pass the babysitter with Jason

He kicked Heracles in the shins once for "trying to steal my dad's stuff!!"

Atalanta and Asclepius were buddies

The Boreads played games with him to keep him occupied

went on the Calydonian Boar Hunt to make sure Atalanta didn't 1) hurt herself; or 2) kill someone

he grew up in the beginning stages of CHB

in 'camp' with him were: Jason (the oldest), Atalanta (raised by bears), and Hippolytus (it was his boarding school).

Theseus dropped by sometimes and Asclepius was able to smuggle his way into his belongs so he could visit Athens. just because :)

Jason and Atalanta freaked out and they and Hippolytus went on a 'quest' to find him

Phoebe the hunter is his favorite sister

he befriends snakes quickly

he died at 15

his death pushed Phoebe into distancing herself from her other siblings

when he was resurrected, he wasn't allowed to see Apollo

his only visitors in his prison medical school is his wife and children. he hasn't seen or heard from his father or any sibling in centuries.

has his mother's shiny black hair but his father's curls as well as his bright blue eyes

Aristaeus

the REAL baby

has anxiety

severe imposter syndrome

pov: all your siblings are great and wonderful and accomplished people. and you made cheese and honey :)

mom and dad were very proud of u ofc but you feel like you didn't even do much

especially when your cool older brother went on the Argo mission even though he knew he would die (RIP Idmon)

gets easily defensive over agriculture (specifically the innovations and how they have taken over the Good Ol' Days's way aka his way)

(he got that from his dad <3)

he also got his dad's blonde hair, but in a honey tone. his skin tone is also darker and closer in shade to Cyrene's

makes really good charcuterie boards

hangs out in the Midwest

visits his mom in Cyrene, Libya (he is a good son ty)

(ironically) mice are his favorite from his dad's sacred animals

he hates locusts though

don't u love it that apollo's number is 7 and he has 7 immortal kids...

[macfrog]

so torn but i need a little 🩵

feel free to send more than one, baby! here all week 🫶🏼

meeting joel 1.3k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵

“fucking – shit…”

the truck squeals around the corner – the same goddamn corner it squealed around five minutes ago. you pass that same lime green mailbox, those same kids drawing farm animals on the sidewalk.

jesus christ, just admit it. you’re lost.

you did visit the place – though, only the once. and that was a couple months ago, now. you didn’t put a lot of effort into memorizing each street in the fucking neighborhood. did the houses look this similar, the day that you viewed it?

you’re sure you’re circling the same rows of houses over and over; sure you recognize the wind chimes hanging from that porch. you take another left, and –

“for fuck’s sake,” you sigh, pulling in down the street from those same sidewalk chalk artists. their cow drawing has a smug smile on its face.

your eyes roll to the right, and there it is. you probably passed it three times over.

it’s humble, quaint. pretty white wood, a wide-open porch. still some budding flowers left in planters by the door. you blink from the bay window to the numbers nailed squint into the column.

it’s so…grown-up. it almost makes you shiver.

you hop down out of the truck into blazing sunlight, lifting a hand to shield your eyes. a lawnmower hums in the distance, the scent of fresh grass diced through the air. a sprinkler whirs a few houses down. the kids across the street giggle and split the yellow chalk in two.

on one side of your new home – a similarly polite house with a row of vibrant tulips leading up to it. reds and yellows and blushing pinks – clipped and groomed within an inch of their life, each one blooming and beautiful.

on the other – a man, stood in front of a blue house, watering his grass. he’s tall, lean. built wider the higher up his figure your eyes climb. tanned, toned arms and broad shoulders which tug at the white tee he’s wearing. a square jawline beneath a thick brown beard.

you catch his eye and lift your hand to wave.

he turns away, aiming the hose at the grass behind him.

“dick,” you whisper, slamming the door.

you jog around to the back of the truck, taking hold of the sunbaked handle. it chinks, but it doesn’t budge.

“c’mon…” you grit your teeth, rattling it again and again. “are you fucking kidding me?”

you step back, sneakers scuffing on the road, and prop your hands on your hips.

your new neighbor is still focusing intently on his grass, spewing a stream of water at the lighter patches. the longer you stare, the more grass he finds to wet.

fuck it.

“hey!”

he gives the hosepipe a jerk, shaking his free hand dry.

“excuse me?” you call, waving an arm.

the man looks up slowly, checking over his shoulder first. making damn sure there’s no one else he can pretend you’re talking to.

and unless you’re eliciting help from the fucking paw patrol across the street, he’s no escape.

“hey,” again, and then, “i’m new around – i’m moving in next door. i can’t get this stupid fucki–freakin’ door to lift. would you mind helping me? please?”

he twists the hose in his hands. you can’t tell if he’s squinting because of the sun, or actually glowering at you.

it feels like the latter, the way he throws the thing to the grass.

he stalks over, a little intimidating in his stride, eyeing you as he approaches. without a word, he wraps two big hands around the latch. he tugs once, and the door doesn’t move.

“see?” you ask, gesturing to the truck. “i bet it’s, like, older than me. might even be older than you, might…”

your neighbor pauses, eyes sliding to yours. his stare is intense – dark, stormy eyes boring into yours.

and this time – you know he’s glowering.

“it’s the heat,” he drawls, giving it another strong pull. his biceps swell, the tattered sleeves of his t-shirt stretching around them. “it’s just a little st–”

the door suddenly shunts, rolling upwards. a rickety noise until it slams at the top.

the paw patrol glance up at the sound, wrists paused. they resume doodling when your neighbor backs up.

“thank you,” you mutter, tugging on the hem of your shirt.

you push yourself up onto the back of the truck, standing amidst the fractured bones of your old apartment. a shadeless lamp here, a box of kitchen utensils there.

the guy takes half a glance at you and double takes, eyes scanning the sea of cardboard behind you. he looks you up and down and back up again – jaw tightening when he notices your hopeful expression.

“do you mind?” you ask, lifting one of the heavier boxes. “if you got somethin’ better to do…” you glance over to his yard, the hose lying in a swirl on the lawn, “…then i understand.”

he sighs, reaching for the box. his thick arms tense when the weight shifts from your grasp to his.

“thanks!” you deliberately chirp, watching his figure swagger off to your porch.

joel miller, as it turns out, is a man of few fucking words.

his name is the most you’ve been able to get out of him – and that’s only because it’s on his mailbox. he tells you nothing else.

up close, he’s graying. the lines of a decently-aged man on his skin – that, or just a miserable asshole (perhaps both). he has a syrupy southern drawl, each word riding a wave from his tongue – but with each answer he relents, he still manages to sound fucking miserable.

he seems like he might have his uses, though. he’s got some pretty good intel on the neighborhood.

“that,” he nods to the house directly across from yours, “is steve and kris’s place. they just had a baby. some nights, you can hear the kid from over here.”

“congrats,” you mutter, following his hand as it moves across the window.

“diane,” joel says. “she’s got a dog – the thing’s a little shit.”

your chin lifts. “diane, little shit,” you echo.

he nods, tongue in his cheek. he turns, hand flicking in the direction of the tulips. “alice,” he says. “let me tell you somethin’ – if there’s anything you want broadcast to every person, pet, and goddamn mailbox in the neighborhood, she’s the one to talk to.”

“nosy, huh?”

“nosy,” he agrees.

you snicker, leaning by him to glance at the swaying flowers. “but look what good care she takes of her tulips.”

“hm. ‘s all a front, you’ll see. she’s smart with it.”

joel helps you unload the rest of the truck, sliding each box across your living room floor. outside, he passes you the last couple, and then reaches up for the door.

his tee lifts ever so slightly – flashing a sliver of skin with a smatter of hair above his belt buckle. a dark trail diving into his jeans.

the sight sears itself behind your eyelids. you drag your gaze from him, bending to scoop up the lighter of the two boxes as he jumps back down. he follows at your heel towards your house again, dropping the last box right by your front door.

he says, “you need anythin’ else, just give me a holler,” but his dry tone – and the fact he’s already halfway out the door when he mumbles it – are enough to convince you that this motherfucker never wants to see your face again.

so – you skip after him, following him to your porch steps.

“nice,” you call, watching him thud down each one, “you any good with diy? i got a shit ton of ikea stuff to build.”

he turns, bottom lip between his teeth.

your eyebrows lift, heel kicking against the wooden step. “a – shit – ton,” you repeat.

joel scoffs, shaking his head. “better get to it, then.”

he wanders back over to his lawn.

[buckysgrace]

Gator Tillman Headcanons

Just some random thoughts I had about baby boy tonight <3

I for sure think he was born premature? A teeny tiny little baby with big brown eyes lol.

Definitely got doted on because of his huge eyes and messy hair. Very hyper kid too, always needed to be doing something. Probably a biter tbh (spanked a lot sadly smh)

Threw an absolute fit when he was itty bitty and they were weening him off of the pacifier. That was his paci damn it!

Grew to love snakes because his mom hated them and he was quick to remove them from her garden. He thought it was funny to chase her while holding them

Roy use to make Linda keep it in a buzz cut because he hated how long it was on Gator. Thus, leaving Gator to find his own style when he was old enough.

He definitely showed cattle when he was younger. His favorite cow was named Rosie and he won several ribbons for how well kept she was <3

Knows how to ride a horse but doesn't have a desire to do so. Plus his lower back and hips are always so sore after

Prefers dogs over cats, but you best believe any time a cat is around him they're all up in his business

I also think he struggled with asthma when he was little too?? He hasn't had an attack in years but still carries an inhaler around

(don't bring up him vaping while having asthma, he gets very defensive and irritated lol)

Never been out of his hometown unless he needed to travel for competitions or for work. Probably never been on a real vacation before either.

I think he was always tall and lanky but stopped growing his sophomore year of high school?? He always wanted to be taller tho

Was in the FFA obviously.

Being an all-state quarter back I'm sure he had a ton of college offers? I imagine he was fairly average in school, probably enjoyed science more than anything else

Had a really hard time after his mom "left". I think he had a lot of anger issues at this time

His leg injury blew away any chances of him really believing that he could do better for himself, so he followed in Roys footsteps

He gets cold easy, so he always bundles up into layers and layers.

Sucks at cooking. Could not boil water to save his life. I think that he'd take cooking lessons later in life (or learn from someone hehe)

Has a surprisingly good green thumb if he'd keep up with it

Enjoys drawing in his free time and is actually really good at it.

Cannot survive anywhere where it gets too hot. He burns easily

He's in church every Sunday (sometimes Wednesday nights too, depending on his shifts) but it doesn't stop his potty mouth

Car lover of course. Likes to work on vehicles too. Occasionally welds I believe.

Loves going to car shows, or to tractor pulls lol

Most of his tattoos were random, little afterthoughts or done while he was drunk. I think he bought his own tattoo kit but opted out of it.

Flirts like a middle school boy. Will poke and prod at you, lots and lots of teasing. If you meet at a bar you best believe he's gonna be showing you all of his cool drinking tricks lol

A surprisingly good big brother, although Karen thinks he's a bad influence so he doesn't get to spend much time with them

Big fan of Game of Thrones but also loves Golden Girls lmao. And Westerns.

Does that thing where he acts like he's not interested in what's on TV but then he stands there with his hands on his hips watching the whole time lol

Do not ask him to pick you up something for the store, he will not find it

When he's high on weed he's very giggly; thinks everything is hilarious. Will absolutely lay underneath the stars and try to explain the way the universe works. Very snuggly and has the worst munchies (devours a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos in one sitting smh)

Will drink coffee (usually with a protein shake mixed in) but he 100% prefers energy drinks

Jack Daniels and PBR are obviously his drinks of choice hehe. Although he does love a good margarita occasionally

Absolutely devours some Taco Bell after he gets off the night shift. He always gets a box with a chalupa, beefy 5-layer burrito, and the fiesta potatoes but he's also getting a cheesy gordita crunch and the Cinnabon delights. And a Baja Blast. Mans has worked hard and he's hungry lmao

Hates ankle socks

For a late night snack he is breaking open something sweet. I imagine he prefers Heath bars and 100 Grand Bars.

He also loves carrot cake

[theclaravoyant]

buddie + a kiss on the back of the neck. (bonus points for kitchen scenes, my beloved)

from this prompt list. also for the anon who requested buddie + a romantic kiss, although i may well write a separate one for that too!

AN ~ fluff. shameless, embarassing fluff.

- Eddie has dreamed of mornings like this. Literally. The only thing missing is the blurry-edged filter his mind tends to supply – although, his sleep-addled eyes are doing their best imitation. He wakes to the sweet smell of pancakes and maple syrup and salty bacon and scrambled eggs and his stomach growls.

He pinches himself on the back of the hand. Shakes it out. Yep, unless his brain has trained in covert operations while he wasn't looking, he's no longer dreaming. So he pads out into the kitchen feeling soft and sleepy and vulnerable and wonders how quietly he can deposit himself at the tiny dining table. Could he make it to the coffee machine and back without causing a disturbance?

It doesn't matter. He lingers instead, and gets caught up in watching. Buck is currently in an argument with a pancake, cursing as the acrid smell of burning hits his nostrils and forces him to turn on the rattling range-hood fan. Eddie's eyes trace his dance backward and forward; the way his shoulders hunch as he tries his best to salvage it, muttering threats and condolences in equal measure as he scrapes it free and evacuates it to the plate.

Eddie moves closer, because he can now, and he wraps his arms around Buck's hips.

Buck just frowns down at his work.

“You need a new stove,” he grumbles. “A new fry pan, at the very least.”

“A poor workman blames his tools, Buck.” Eddie presses a kiss to the back of Buck's neck, and another to the spot where it meets his shoulder. It still kind of surprises him, how naturally this comes to him. He's been waiting for someone to kiss in the kitchen his entire goddamned life. And he smells like pancakes.

“I- I have become accustomed to a certain lifestyle,” Buck attempts to explain. “A certain standard of cookware- What are you-”

Eddie pulls away to pick up the burnt pancake and take a bite. Buck looks appalled. Eddie looks him in the eyes.

“Delicious,” he mumbles, beaming around the mouthful of it, “burnt and all. But you already knew that.”

Buck could just about melt. It's not fair how romantically Eddie speaks sometimes, let alone how fluffy his hair is in the morning, and how much of it he's been blessed to see lately. Or how much he really, really wants to kiss the crumbs off his lips all of a sudden. And so, he does, and he finds that even his morning breath isn't too bad, drenched in batter and syrup and a sizeable dose of how lucky am I?

Eddie looks at him a little bit swoony afterwards with those big brown baby-cow eyes, and Buck wonders how on Earth the two of them ever got anything done.

“You know,” Eddie offers. “We should finish unpacking your kitchen stuff, since mine is suddenly so terrible. Christopher will be back from camp tonight and expecting your finest.”

“Mm. Tough critic, that kid.”

“I dunno. I think you've got a shoe in.”

“Printed a reference from my landlord, just in case.”

“Buck.” Eddie rolls his eyes, and he's so deeply in love his chest actually hurts. “Be serious. He's going to be so happy.”

“He'll probably call us both idiots.” “Yeah, well.” Buck kisses him one more time, and wonders how he hasn't been doing this for years. “When he's right, he's right.”

[boyfriendstevie]

I am very sick and it's got me thinking that Steve has probably never gotten the chance to be babied when he was sick because he's always been alone :(

He would definitely be the "I can work through this" type, and push himself too far :( You have to put him on bed rest and make sure he's resting properly. It would take a while for you to get him to stop trying to do things but when he finally realizes that it's okay for him to just be sick and you're going to baby him, he's going to be a little bit of a suck 🥺 big brown cow eyes and red nose, sick Steve my baby

Oh no!!! I’m sorry you’re sick babes!! Being sick is actually the worst. Steve would take the best care of you <333

But yes he had like his grandma or a nanny when he was little, but it’s been a long time since he’s had anyone to take care of him while sick. When he finally gives in to your doting, he leans in all the way, and is so needy & whiny hehe

[brw]

hi i want to know more about ur guys... if you're up to it, the people asks for any of potentates... (also i just want 2 hear more about all of them [esp the imperators and potentates bc !!!!] in general, PLS tell me more about them the names Fascinate me)

OUAGH THANNK UUUU.... ok SO. the Potentates are the ruling class of Bronze Eden, a theocracy where they have near total power. They used to be very active in the lives of the citizens of Bronze Eden but after Potentate Magnus' third wife Gloriana almost succeeded in a coup to overthrow the throne, they have become much more secluded, with Magnus haven't been seen directly for many years. This got worse after his eldest son Augustus was assassinated. Even his own children see him rarely, and his grandchildren almost never. I'll do the person asks, and descriptions for each of his kids and what sector they've inherited is under the cut!

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?

Magnus - light pale blue, often unfocused but once very intense. Very lidded and heavy, he's 105 years old. A bit too small for his face.

Augustus - light reddish brown. Not as intense as Magnus, but certainly not soothing either. Erratic, anxious.

Boris - dark brown, slightly downturned, warmer but always kind of sad like a cow about to be slaughtered

Salvatore - lighter brown, also a bit small for his face, noticably large pupils, missing eyelashes.

Felipe - light pale blue, large, wide, with a few flecks of brown. Intense, often darting all over the place, not knowing but confident.

Clymene - slate grey, downturned, calculating, sort of humourous, like she's laughing at you.

Zephyr - slate grey, downturned, hazy, uncomprehending, almost innocent. Still childlike despite being middleaged.

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

Magnus - very good liar, because I think he himself believes everything he says. His main tell is that everyone close to him knows he got to where he is by lying and manipulating, but you wouldn't know that without direct contact with the man.

Augustus - Bad, relies on the idea that a man of faith wouldn't lie, otherwise gets very figity with his hands and licks his lips too much.

Boris - Pretty good, just because he always looked so sad and wet that nobody really had it in him to doubt his word, which to be fair was true most of the time. probably why he did what he did.

Salvatore - Good in the sense that you always think he's lying so you never know when he's ACTUALLY lying, because he's so exaggerated and over the top already that he kind of constantly sounds like a used car salesman.

Felipe - Bad, blinks too much, always avoids saying things directly so he has plausible deniability when he eventually gets caught out because he's so accustomed to being caught in a lie.

Clymene - Alright at lying, but isnt good at practicing lies and excuses because she makes too much eye contact always.

Zephyr - good. everyone believes the baby.

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

N/A they're all haunted by the spectre of holiness and of Boris' suicide and the deaths of Magnus' many wives.

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

Magnus - problems with every big emotion and he will make it your problem.

Augustus - couldn't handle feeling powerless ever, which being a religious figurehead helped with. Needed to feel like people were hanging onto his every word to have self worth etc. He also needed to be watched and seen and paid attention to at all times.

Boris - uhm. he couldn't deal with them unfortunately.

Salvatore - blows up very easily if he feels his opinions or his ideas are being challenged in any way, sort of like a fascist Walt Disney

Felipe - similarly to Augustus powerlessness is something he doesn't know how to deal with. Gets violent if he thinks someone thinks he's stupid, which he is.

Clymene - probably has the best handle of her emotions of any of them because she's always been taught from a young age as a woman if she gets too emotional she's hysterical so she has a very stiff upper lip. Plus the whole thing with her mother. Gets angry though when people act like she's stupid and doesn't understand the division she's in charge of.

Zephyr - Never quite figured out to deal with the grief of his mother being executed and is very sensitive over that. Disappears around the week of her death without fail.

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

None of them cry easily but Salvatore.

👊 PUNCH - are they quick to violence?

Magnus - yes and his family live in fear of his

Augustus - no

Boris - no

Salvatore - yes

Felipe - yes

Clymene - more than you would think

Zephyr - yes but he throws a weak punch

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

Magnus - his uhhhh everything.

Augustus - pauses many conversations to write down a speech, basically treats every conversation in fact as an opportunity to try out a new line or snappy dialogue

Boris - first thing he did after waking up and last thing he did before going to sleep was look at the stock market and latest bank figures.

Salvatore - Covered in pieces of paper and ink and leaves smudges everywhere because he's constantly thinking about and updating his most recent project

Felipe - very paranoid about assassination attempts so has a very methodical routine every morning and evening

Clymene - extremely anal about her schedules and her appearances at events

Zephyr - sometimes just disappears for a bit without saying anything

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

these guys r all family

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?

Magnus - fight

Augustus - flight

Boris - flight

Salvatore - fight

Felipe - flight

Clymene - fight

Zephyr - flight

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

I don't think any of them ever sleep easily except for Felipe, who is always very assured of himself. The rest always have memories and things that haunt them to some extent even if they pretend otherwise; Magnus is always thinking about his glory days. Augustus thought always about his next big speech his next move his next fight for political and religious power. Boris was chronically depressed and never slept well. Salvatore was only 4 years younger than Boris and remembers him a lot I think, when he's alone with his own thoughts. Felipe as I said sleeps well because he regrets nothing. Clymene is always thinking about her next scientific project and sometimes is working on it into the night. Zephyr only sleeps with the aid of whiskey.

emoji ask game

Potentate Augustus was in charge of overseeing the church, as the oldest child. One of the main things he did was create small splinter groups in different areas of Bronze Eden to better represent the different ways people in the fields and at the coast worship compared to those in the city. The biggest of these is the Brothers of the Magpie, the only one to survive after his assassination as many of these groups were cut down. There are rumours his assassination was an inside job by the Potentates as these splinter groups arguably endangered the Empyrean Temple's power.

Potentate Boris was set to take over the business sector, and killed himself at a very young age, only 22. He's become canonised as a saint, as he was known as a very kind, very comforting individual before his death. He had dark hair but it's depicted as blonde in portraits of him to further give him the angelic cherub vibe.

Potentate Salvatore is in charge of arts and education. He's kind of seen as more harmless/fun-loving, and has built up an exaggerated, campy persona, in spite of all the agiprop he has invested and prioritised, and the heavily segregated rich / poor education system that's grown under his eye. He funded various theatres over Bronze Eden, including the People's Theatre and was deeply saddened when it closed, not because of all the people that died but because he had a personal hand in the way it was built and designed and wants more people to recognise his genius in architecture.

Potentate Felipe is in charge of military and internal security, and is currently staging a mini war against anything to do with Nod or Nod culture or what he percieves as Nod culture. There's a slight sexaul fixitation? to his fascination with Nod and his hatred of it, something he's definitely tried to pass down to his children and neices and nephews. There's something comedic about his outbursts and hatred, until you remember he is actively getting people killed over it. I imagine him if Boris Johnson was like the head of the CIA.

Potentate Clymene is in charge of sciences, but was initially set to take over the healthcare. She switched with her younger brother, Zephyr. She and Zephyr are the only children of Gloriana, the failed coup queenie. They're so close and look so similar they're often mistaken for twins. Clymene is the most nonreligious, least interested in the power struggle of the family's internal politics, but obviously presents as religious to save face. Probably the most actually involved in her sector than anyone else, attending various events and keeping updated with all the latest advancements and fledging bright minds in Bronze Eden.

Potentate Zephyr is the youngest, in charge of healthcare. Neither ambitious, power hungry or particularly intelligent he has been forgotten largely by his family and is mostly considered a forgotten grandchild by Magnus as opposed to his youngest son. He was set to take sciences but freely admits that Clymene is more intelligent than him and cites that as why he traded so easily. Very close with his big sister.

And that's the main family! there's more grandkids and stuff but these are the main people the citizens of Bronze Eden know and who's names they remember! thank you so much for sending this i love talking about my guys very much hope this wasnt too much text!!!

[cohendyke]

long(ish) maurice book review/analysis since i finished it last night and it was something i've been meaning to do for like. six years now!!! this is the year i start reading voraciously like i did when i was nine... okay review under cut if u are interested :3

okay so for context i watched the movie when i was like, fifteen, and it immediately made a huge impact on me and i knew i would love the book seeing how much i loved the movie. i had moved to the southern us from canada at the beginning of the trump admin and in retrospect that made me repress myself more than i probably ever had in my life, or since. it is so so revolutionary to have a work as old as maurice ( because it was written in 1913 but of course it wasn't published until 1971, which itself was only two years after stonewall and four years after homosexuality was decriminalized in the uk) that has a happy ending.

i really really liked that the book provided insight into clive's character. there's a short chapter in how he knew 'what' he was since he was a child and the shame and repression that followed and the brief pause when he's at cambridge with maurice. but it also has him coming across as a massive douche which i don't think the movie does as well- they break up and then they're kind of friends again? the book manages to give you just enough insight but he's still shrouded in mystery- the way he is to maurice and probably a lot of the other characters.

also, i was a little surprised to see that maurice is also rude to his sisters and mother and kind of women in general. this is probably one of the biggest differences i feel like it was forster trying to really firmly convey that 1) he isn't attracted to women, although his interactions with his female relatives could just be forster commenting on the misogyny in the day, as well as also putting forward how uncomfortable a heteronormative society is for maurice, and how him having to partake in a homophobic society was also indirectly damaging to his family. either way he was not a very likeable guy either, especially in the way he treats alec.

i have to admit that the way alec was portrayed in the movie was kind of... not great. i'm not saying they're right but i do understand (to an extent) why people who've only watched the movie are like "he should have ended up with clive... :/" but in the book he's such a sweetie... he has big brown baby cow eyes... so much more tender and actually fully and truly reciprocates. in the terminal note forster writes that the only way the book could end was the confrontation with clive and maurice before he goes off to the boathouse to be with alec and alec kind of had to be snuck in under the readers nose so it does make sense why he's only a major part for the last couple chapters but i wish we got more of him and maurice's relationship the way we did with clive and maurice, because if clive started maurice's intellectual growth, alec definitely accelerated it; by the time he gets with maurice, maurice has finally rejected the restrictions of society. poor person dick really changes you i guess. maybe the one other qualm i have about the book is one i also had with howards end; the pacing isn't great. i feel like forster gets to a point when writing when he's like okay i'm tired of this now now :) and they all lived happily ever after the end (obviously not that cut and dry but. yeah) overall 8/10 and i still think the movie adaptation is one of my favourite movies i've ever seen and one of the better book adaptations.

[intofclklore]

penny is twelve when she meets eddie. when she moves to hawkins against her will and has to live in this small trailer and live mere feet away from this bald nuisance. he’s loud and always running around and she knows he’s the one who stole her bike the first week they were here. she has no proof, but he’s her only suspect. she’s read a couple of her dad’s detective novels. it’s not that hard to crack a case. 

their interactions are sporadic and limited, just enough to keep her annoyed with him. she threatens him not to tell anyone she lives there. he obeys. it’s not enough to gain her full trust. she suspects this may become an issue in high school, when they reach the same building, same peers. a fresh, more daunting threat may be needed. 

she’ll worry about it when the time comes, she tells herself. 

for the most part, she doesn’t think about him. so when there’s a knock at her front door a year into their forest hills lease, and her dad asks her to get it, she’s expecting anyone else except eddie munson. 

“what?” she greets him, immediately suspicious. 

he seems unfazed by her hostility. “um, my cousin’s coming over.”

penny just blinks at him, waiting for him to go on, but he doesn’t. she waves a hand at him, gesturing for him to go on. “okay? why does that matter to me?” 

“she’s in your class, i think,” he tells her.

it takes a second for her to process, again, why this matters to her. for a second she thinks he’s inviting her to hang out and she’s ready to slam the door in his face, because she has zero interest in hanging out with him or his cousin. it’s erin munson, she already detected this. made the connection a week or two into living there. if not for the last names, their matching big brown eyes would have tipped her off. like two little baby cows. 

“okay,” she says again, less snappy, more understanding, still waiting for him to say more. 

“i just thought you’d want to know,” he goes on. “we’ll probably be outside, so. maybe, don’t be.” 

usually, she doesn’t like taking orders or being told what to do, but in this case, he’s just giving her a heads up. doing as he’s been told to do - not let anyone find out she lives there. a wave of gratefulness washes over her. 

“i won’t be,” she says instead of the ‘thank you’ that’s on the tip of her tongue.

eddie leaves, penny goes back inside, and she can hear him and erin laughing outside just twenty minutes later. she draws her bedroom curtain closed. 

it surprises her, at first, that he’s willing to keep things from erin. someone he seems so close to. then, it relieves her. because if he’s willing to protect her secrets from someone like erin, there’s no reason to doubt he’ll do so with others.

but then, the more she thinks about it, and the closer her and eddie get - the more it kind of offends her. shouldn’t he want to tell erin all about the amazing girl in his life? okay, maybe they’re not dating - yet. but he should still want to gush over her. 

penny decides she can be both appreciative and annoyed at once. 

it’s inevitable that erin does find out though. once they reach driving age, and the younger munson has more freedoms than she did as a twelve year old, she’s stopping by a lot more often to see her cousin and uncle. random dinners when she can’t stand to sit with her parents, early mornings when she’s giving eddie a ride to school because his shitty van is having problems again, weekends when her social battery is drained and the only person she can tolerate is her cousin.  

only sometimes does she bother to warn eddie in advance. it’s not an issue for eddie or wayne. they don’t care. penny does. 

she has no problems with erin. they’ve shared classes for years, did a group project once in eighth grade, and erin agreed to do most of the research if penny did the presenting part. a perfect deal in penny’s eyes. she was quiet, kept to herself. not as annoying as some of the people eddie hung around with. 

that doesn’t mean she trusts her though, or wants her to know her business. but alas - 

it’s the fall of ‘85 and penny is with eddie more than she’s not. any second of spare time she has, she’s finding excuses to be with him. flirting before school, risking getting rides from him if it’s early enough and the parking lot is guaranteed to be mostly empty when they arrive. slipping outside after getting her dad to bed to sit outside with eddie under the stars. even weekends, she’d rather spend with him than out with her friends. 

“you’re coming back after, right?” he’d asked her, one day in june when she’d stood from his bedroom floor and said she had to go check on her dad. 

and she did. she always came back. 

that was where she was the day erin found out about them, on his bedroom floor, sitting cross-legged. they weren’t even really talking. he was scribbling something in a notebook, for dnd, she’s pretty sure. and she’s flipping through a magazine and painting her nails. a lot of days are like this. them doing their own things, but together. 

she blames her wet nails for why she doesn’t move quicker when she hears erin coming down the hall. the footsteps don’t sound like wayne’s, she notices right away. too light. but she’s trying not to smudge the wet pink paint and isn’t fully focusing on that, not reading into it. assumes wayne is walking gently, maybe has new shoes or something, up until the moment erin opens the door and they lock eyes. 

“shit-” penny sighs, looking up at a bewildered erin. she still doesn’t move. her fucking nails. she’s just sitting there, awkwardly holding them at her sides. 

erin blinks, and then looks around the room, as if she’s suddenly not sure she’s in the right place. “what are -” she squints. “what is penny doing here?” 

penny finds it a little rude that she’s staring right at her yet only speaking to eddie, but she’ll allow it, because she thinks it’ll be funny to hear eddie scramble for a response. 

“uh-” the scrambling begins. “she is… here.” 

fantastic. 

then, something seems to click in erin’s mind, something penny’s unaware of, and her eyes widen and light up. “it’s fucking penny? penny’s the girl you -” she pauses, as if even in her shock, she’s careful with her words. “penny burhan?!” 

again, penny finds this a little rude, but only a little, because erin doesn’t sound judgemental necessarily. just… surprised, and maybe a bit amused. 

eddie is quickly hopping out of his chair and shuffling erin into the hallway. their voices are muffled, and then gone completely as they move further from the door. penny is left alone to process what just happened. weirdly, she’s not scared. she always thought she’d be filled with anxiety if anyone ever caught her hanging out with eddie munson, that they’d suddenly know too much about her, they’d be able to see all of her truths. 

after the initial shock and fear wear off, penny feels… nothing. she doesn’t really care that erin knows. 

maybe it’s because of the fact that over the last couple of years, she’s learned how trustworthy certain munsons can be. 

eddie comes back in, alone, full of assurances, telling her erin’s cool, telling her she’s not going to say anything. but penny knows this, already gave herself these assurances while she awaited eddie’s return. there’s only one thing she really wants to hear about now. 

“so you talk about me to your cousin?” she asks, a grin on her face that tells him she already knows he does. ‘penny’s the girl you-’ had been what erin said, and penny can fill in the blanks on her own. eddie’s talked about her. he may not have mentioned her name directly, but he’s talked about her. she gets to her feet and moves closer to him, wet nails be damned, nudging at his shoulder. “what kind of stuff do you say about me? do you talk about how pretty i am? how funny i am? how witty and sexy i am?” 

she’s practically an inch from his face, giggling and teasing. it’d be the perfect time for him to kiss her. god, he’s such a baby. of course he’s not going to. he’s smiling at her like he’d let her, but she won’t either. not yet. not today. 

he threatens to send her home like he did to erin if she doesn’t stop, but of course he’s not going to do that either.

[seathered]

information.  ༄            making a carrd is too difficult for me right now so here is a ton of information about cj that i would keep on a carrd. her stats, mini bio, verses, and connections will eventually go here, but right now i don't have verses or connections done. this whole thing is still a wip <3

general.

full name   :   calista jane hook.

nickname/alias   :   cj (this is the name your muse will know her as, she does not give out her full name to anyone, the only people who know are family or family adjacent. and even then she's not called her full name unless people are being very mean to her, the most beautiful girl in the whole world), ceej, heathen, gremlin, baby hook, hellspawn, nightmare child, hooklet, thing one, little cretin, she demon.

date of birth   :   april 17th.

age   :   18 - 22.

zodiac sign   :   aries sun, leo moon, capricorn rising.

gender identity   :   cis-female, she/her pronouns.

sexual orientation   :   bisexual / demiromantic.

race/ethnicity   :   caucasian.

species   :   human.

occupation   :   presently - lookout for the tempest, generally also very good at causing problems on purpose and can do it for you if you make it worth it for her.

previously, some minor version of an unpaid assassin/shit-stirrer for her father during her early tween/teenage years, before she left the isle of the lost and faked her death. he used her small size and stealth to instill fear into his enemies because 'he could find them anywhere'.

language(s)   :   english, intermediate scottish gaelic, advanced isle sign language.

dietary   :   nothing strict or official just a lot of food issues with this one.

physical.

faceclaim(s)   :   i've used both sophie thatcher and savannah lee may in the past, and i still use them presently but i am largely undecided on a primary faceclaim, she's really hard to clock in my head. madelyn cline is also now added to the list.

other visual references   :   lili reinhart as alice cooper, katherine mcnamara as mia smoak, nicola peltz as amber altmyer.

eyes   :   really quite unfortunately she has big brown baby cow eyes that lean slightly amber. and she uses them for evil. most of the time they are not in the huge mode, she does a lot of evil smiling/smirking with her eyes.

hair   :   generally and naturally her hair is a sort of sandy/dirty blonde with roots a few shades darker. however, she has absolutely played with hair dye before and continues to do so just not for long periods or very often a whole head of hair at a time cause she has commitment issues. (her favorites are a dark red, platinum/pale blonde, and i feel like she tries a more natural (ginger) red at least once or in little pieces) as for style, she has wild curls. just wild and messy always. her curl type is naturally probably about a 3b, but she doesn't work to define them most so it's really a variation of patterns and sizes of curls. hook kid good hair genes (even through the terrible horrible-ness of the isle hair care situation) because their dad is too cunty to have horrible hair. additionally, her curls are weighed down by the length of her hair as it goes down to about her mid-back to waist.

height   :   5’10” in / 177.8 cm

build   :   lean/athletic in a traditional label sense, but she's also malnourished from being on the isle and hasn't recovered from it yet. even with the muscle definition, i still think she looks pretty thin in a way that could raise some minor red flags when looking for her.

complexion   :   warm beige, sprinkled with warm-toned freckles from sun exposure.

piercings   :   lobe, double lobe, upper lobe, conch, helix, (all ear piercings apply to both ears) left nostril, septum, vertical eyebrow, belly button. little note that all of her piercings aren't in all of the time, she's not too worried about them closing she'll just stick the jewelry through anyway because she's kind of insane.

dressing style   :   the best way i can think to describe her style is raunchy goth, with an edge of pirate. she wears a lot of torn fabric with layers, corseted silhouettes, mini skirts, sooo many fishnets or other sheer tights, shiny silver accents, just often very minimal clothing and dark colors. she’s privy to shades of red. also, generally, she has a lot of jewelry, always. she also loves her heeled or platform boots.

voice   :   she has a thick scottish accent, and speaks either entirely very dramatically or completely monotone, there isn't any in between and it's very indicative of her mood and who's in her company.

most noticeable features   :   she has a very pointy smile, sharp and pointy. not really even her teeth just like the shape of it, there's little curvy dimples near the edges that help with that. also probably her eyes because of how expressive and alive they are.

other   :   for the most part, cj generally has two different manners of acting when she's not around friends and family. it's either aggressive, taunting, and threatening or largely disinterested, bored and slouchy, maybe even quiet if she's obligated to be there (and, to be honest, she doesn't do those well).

mental.

diagnoses   :  

attention deficit hyperactivity disorder

pathological demand avoidance

complex-post traumatic stress disorder

bipolar disorder

avoidant-restrictive food intake disorder

moral alignment   :  chaotic-neutral, acts for the Just For Fun of it all as well as self-interest and causes frequent problems.

likes   :  the beach and sea, loud places, distractions, getting away with things, winning, danger.

dislikes   :  peacefulness, safety, planning, staying still, losing, the people she cares about being hurt, auradon, auradonians (additionally just a lot of resentment when people are overly kind or soft, especially when it's in her direction).

phobias   :  survival of her and her loved ones (though she often struggles to covey the second) has always been her top priority, i really don't think she fears anything else besides the failure of that.

self-confidence level   :  medium to high, but she's got a lot of semi-conscious self-hatred.

mbti   :  estp.

enneagram   :  type 8 wing 7.

hobbies   :  swimming, exploring, socializing, generally just getting into not legal trouble she does it a lot and for fun.

positive traits   :  resourceful, creative, witty, confident, protective, cunning, charismatic, she’s loyal in theory but does not act like it in practice, ambitious.

neutral traits   :  adventurous, performative.

negative traits   :  impulsive, self-destructive, cold, sneaky, arrogant, violent, manipulative, dishonest (compulsive liar), bitter, jealous, avoidant, unpredictable, disrespectful, stubborn, defiant, reactive.

background.

birthplace + current residence   :  cj was born and raised on the isle of the lost by pirates, but she always had a home. a few months before her death, cj left home to live in an apartment/loft situation with freddie. she still lives there, presently, but spends plenty of the time at the wharf.

family   :  

calandra.  mother, completely absent, cj only knew of her when she was little, but she very rarely saw her, even in infancy. this, of course, did not stop even little cj from fighting harriet because she wanted her mother instead.

james hook.  father, for the majority of cj’s life, fairly absent, besides when he could find use for her. her siblings worked to keep him away from her as much as possible, which left her feeling ignored, even though the attention he gave to her siblings was both very emotionally and physically abusive. when she was 11, he enlisted her to become somewhat of a mercenary on his behalf, to scare enemies into believing that he could find them anywhere. 

harriet hook.  older sister, raised her as much as she could at an incredibly young age herself. cj’s false passing, of course, broke harriet because of how she had to take on a caregiver role for her little sister, so their relationship is presently strained. the love is still there.

harry hook.  older brother, also a minor caregiver of cj when she was younger. presently, his protection is still there, and they still do sibling things, but the cj’s stubborn nature and actions have strained their relationship heavily.

financial status   :  low by auradon standards, above average for isle ones.

driver's license   :  none, but it doesn't stop her. she learned how on the isle and that's all she needs. big big fan of 'the government can't tell me what to do', she is.

criminal record   :  there isn't anything on her record, but she has done a lot and broken a lot of laws, and gotten away with all of it. she even held the king hostage once, and kind of wishes he'd rat her out for it. not really, of course, but it would make her stop feeling like he has something over her. i think if cj got arrested even once in auradon they’d find reason to keep her for a long time unfortunately.

vices   :  drugs, alcohol, lust, violence, wrath.

other.

threat level   :  fairly high, could be purely based on how she very rarely lets up in a fight or conflict and will just keep going until someone’s dead.

strengths   :  her agility and speed, diversions, survival instincts, hand-to-hand combat (and with that anything beyond hands is fair game, she has no chill), short to medium-range weaponry (i feel like she’d just love throwing knives), stealth, quick reflexes.

weaknesses   :  swordsmanship, long-range weaponry, being overpowered by strength.

preferred hand   :  none, ambidextrous out of need. she was already the weakest growing up so she just learned to use both and now it's natural.

loose bio.

born on the isle of the lost

cj was a very sick baby and a very hard baby, she wouldn't eat but then the lack of eating made her sick and there were a million different ways that she was always trouble for the people trying to care for her.

mom was an addict and not at all involved in her life besides baiting cj that she would come see her, harriet told her she was sick and couldn't be around (which she was, but, yk). mom became completely out of her life when she was about 6 or 7. cj would act out because of this, and the slips of her mother only made her worse.

her siblings (primarily harriet) cared for her and raised her, with help from their father's first mate, smee, when cj was a baby.

her dad was also not involved with her life and generally ignored her until he had use for her when she was old enough to 'work' for him. this left a lot of attention-seeking behaviors for harriet, smee, and harry to deal with.

around the ages of 11, cj's father summoned her to protect his honor through means of silent violence in the night, taking care of his enemies and ensuring his fearsome reputation that james hook could get you wherever you stood. and cj, small, neglected, and arguably naive, did everything he asked out of admiration and being threatened to keep secrecy from her siblings or any of their family or crews that would’ve put a stop to it. there is not much of a clear end to this, he eventually just stops sending her out as she gets older, and is home less often.

around the age of 14 is when cj really starts to stray from her sibling’s wishes, having been keeping her father’s secrets from them already and that assists in their separation. she starts venturing into the darkest corners of the isle, just to prove the point of independence. there was always violence in her life, there was always alcohol, and there was always piracy. but now there were drugs, and the friends that cj made were neither approved by her siblings or their people, and that made her feel grown up.

this lasts for about 2 years, and through these new friends, cj did as cj does, and lied, cheated, and fought her way into trouble, the big kind. she pushed all the buttons she could, until a very clear threat is made that she doesn’t think she can run away from, this time.

except, she could run away from it, but not trapped on this island. she goes to the only person she believes she could trust with this (not her siblings, not the family she’s found in their crews), her best friend and partner in crime, freddie. by an impeccably timed transportation spell, they find a way off. 

at 16, with the assistance of freddie, of course, cj fakes her death in order to escape the isle and her problems completely, not thinking of the consequences. in some ways, she was trying to protect the family she would be abandoning from getting wrapped up in the mess she created.

at 16, cj leaves a female corpse of similar size and stature in a shed and sets it on fire, leaving her clothing and jewelry from her father (stolen, not gifted) in obvious places as evidence.

at 16, freddie is the only person that knows cj is alive. she is considered missing, and then dead by the rest of the isle.

freddie and cj are in auradon together, with freddie enrolled in auradon prep and cj much more like a stowaway, for quite a while, before cj departs on her own after not being able to stand it. both with and without freddie, cj causes as many problems as she can while staying under the radar, including (a lot of) theft, (also a lot of) breaking and entering, and semi-privately taking the king hostage for like fifteen minutes.

the barrier between the isle of the lost and auradon falls 2 years later, and cj is forced to face the consequences of what she’s done.

[eating-the-inedible]

 -No. Oh, you leave them out on the sun and they get all brown and start ??? little wild hairs? No! Layers! Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. Onions have layers. You get it? We both have layers. O, you both have layers. You know not everybody likes onions. Cake! Everybody loves cakes. Cakes have layers. I don't care what everyone likes. Ogres are not like cakes. You know what else everyone likes? Paffe. Have you ever met a person and you say: "Hey, let's get some paffe" and they say I don't like paffe. Paffe is delicious. No! You tensed, irritating, miniature peace of barden. Ogres are like onions. End of story. Bye, bye. See you lather. Paffe is maybe the most delicious thing on the whole damn planet. You know I think I've preferred your humming. Do you have a tissue or something, 'cause I'm making a mess. Just the word paffe has made me start slimying Why, Shrek, did you do that? Man you got to warn somebody before you just crack one off. My mouth was opened and everything. Believe me donkey, if it was me, you'd be dead. It's brimstone. We must be getting close. Yeah, right, brimstone. Don't be talking ??? brimstone. I know what I smell and ??? no brimstone. And they don't come of stone neither. Sure it's big enough, but look at the location. Oh, Shrek, remember when you said that Ogres have layers? Oh, yeah. Well, I have a confession to make. Donkeys don't have layers. We wear ??? sleeves. Wait a second. Donkeys don't have sleeves. -You know what I mean. -Oh, you can't tell me you're afraid of highs. No, I'm just a little uncomfortable of being on a rickety bridge over boiling lake of lava! Come on donkey, I'm right here beside you. Ok? For emotional support. We'll just hackle this thing together one little baby step after time. -Really? -Really really. Ok. That makes me feel so much better. Just keep moving and don't look down. Don't look down, don't look down. Shrek! I'm looking down! I can't do this. Just let me off right now, please. -But you're already half way. -Yeah, but I know that half is safe. Ok, fine. I don't have time for this. You go back. Shrek, no, wait. Don't do that! Oh, I'm sorry. Do what? -Oh. This? -Yes, that! Yes, yes. Do it. OK. -No, Shrek! -I'm doing it. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. Shrek, I'm gonna die. That will do Donkey, that will do. Cool. So where is this fire breathing pain in the neck anyway? Inside. Waiting for us to rescue her. I was talking about the dragon Shrek. -Are you afraid? -No, but shhhhh. Oh, good. Me neither. Because there's nothing wrong with being afraid. Here's a..., something responsible of the situation. Not to mention dangerous situation. And there's dragon that breathes fire. I'm sure he's meaner than a cow or anything, but they're scare. You know what I mean. I'm sure he's heavier than a cow... Donkey. Two things. Ok? Shut, up. Now go over there and see if you can find any stairs. Stairs? I thought we were looking for the princess. The princess will be up the stairs in the highest room in the tallest tower. What makes you think she'll be there? I read it in a book once. Cool. You handle the dragon, I'll handle the stairs. Oh, I'll find those stairs. I'll ???. That's right. Those stairs won't know which way they go. The drafting stairs, ??? Don't mess with me. I'm the stair master. I'm master of the stairs. I wish I had a stair right here right here now, I'd step all over it. Well, at least we know where the princess is. -But where is the... -Dragon! Donkey, look out! Got you. Oh, what large teeth you have. I mean, white sparkling teeth. You probably hear this all the time from your food, but you must bleach yourself, because that is one dashing smile you got there. And do I detect the hint of minty freshness? And you know what else? You're a girl dragon. Oh, sure. I mean 'course you're a girl dragon, 'cause you're just ricking the feminine beauty out. What's the matter with you? Do you have something in your eye? Man, I'd really love to stay, but you know I'm a asthmatic and I don't know if we would worked out.

Here's something someone put in the "anything else" box

Once upon a time there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort, which could only be broken by Love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible fire breathing dragon. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but none prevailed. She waited in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love and true love's first kiss. Like that's ever going to happen. What a loony. Shrek Beware Stay out I think he's in here. All right. Lets get it! Hold on. Do you know what that thing can do to you? Yeah. He'll groan into your bones for his brains. Well actually that would be a giant. Now Ogres, huh, they are much worse. They'll make a soup from your freshly peeled skin. They'll chew your livers, squeeze the jelly from your eyes. Actually, it's quite good on toast. Back, back beast, back! I warned you! Right. This is the part, where you run away. Yeah! And stay out. Wanted. Fairytale creatures. Right, this one is full. Take it away. Give me that. Your fine days are over. -25 pieces of silver for the witch. Next. -Come on. Sit down there! And be quiet! This cage is so small. You wouldn't turn me in. I'll never be stubborn again. I can change. Please, give me another chance. Oh, shut up! Next. What do we got? This little wooden puppet. I'm not a puppet, I'm a real boy. Five shillings for the possessed toy. Take it away. No! Please, don't let them do it! Next. What do you got? Well, I've got a talking donkey! Right. Well that's good for ten schillings, if you can prove it. Oh, go ahead fella. Well? He's just a li..., just a little nervous. He's really quite a chatterbox. You boneheaded donkey! That's it. I have heard enough. Guards! No, no, he talks, he does! I can talk. I love to talk. I've talked to... Get her out of my sight! -No, no, I swear! Hey, I can fly. -He can fly! -He can fly! He can talk! -That's right, fool! Now I'm a flying, talking donkey! You might have seen house fly, maybe even a superfly. But I bet you ain't never seen a donkey fly! Seize him! Get him! This way! Hurry! You there. Ogre. -I. By the order of lord Farquaad. I am authorized to place you both under arrest. And transport you to designated resettlement facility. Oh really? You and what army? Can I say something to you? Listen, you were really, really something, back there. Incredible. Are you talking to... ...me? Yes, I was talking to you. Can I just tell you that you were really great back there with those guards. They thought that was all over there. And then you showed up and BAM. There was tripping on over themselves like babes in the woods. That really made me feel good to see that. Oh, that's great. Really. Man, it's good to be free. Now, why don't you go celebrate your freedom with your own friends? But I... I don't have any friends. And I'm not going out there by myself. Hey wait a minute. I have a great idea... I'll stick with you. You and me in green fighting machine. Together we'll scare the spin if anybody crosses us. Oh, a, that was really scary. Maybe you don't mine me saying. If that don't work, your breath will certainly do the job done, 'cause... you definitively need some tic-tac or something, 'cause your breath stinks! Man you've ??? my note! Just like the time... ...and then I ate some rotten berries. Man I had some strong gases leaking out of my but that day. Why are you following me? I'll tell you why. 'Cause I'm all alone, there is no one here, beside me. My problems have all gone. There's no one to derive me. But you got to have free ... -Stop singing! Well, it's no wonder, you don't have any friends. Wow! Only a true friend would be that truly honest. Listen! Little donkey. Take a look at me! What am I? A... ...really tall? No! I'm an Ogre. You know, grab your torch and pitchforks. Doesn't that bother you? Nope. Really? -Really really. Oh? Man, I like you. What's your name? A..., Shrek. Shrek?! But do you know, what I like about you, Shrek?

[muertawrites]

eddie munson helping you dye your hair

(i'm sitting on my bathroom floor waiting for my second round of bleach to set in so i figure i deserve a little self indulgence. as a treat.)

maybe asking eddie to help with the laborious process of a home dye job was a bad idea. but he got so excited when you told him you wanted to do it that you were suckered into letting him (damn those big brown baby cow eyes)

when you can't find your bathroom scissors, he rips the packet of bleach powder open with his teeth

"dude, what the fuck!" you snatch the baggy out of his hands. "that's bleach!"

he just shrugs

"what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"

"eddie this will kill you"

he watches you brush the front sections of your hair like he's watching michelangelo paint the sistine chapel. he adores how concentrated you look, how cute you are with your hair all messy.

very careful when helping you with the back of your head. he wants to make sure it looks perfect because you're perfect.

has to be reminded to use gloves.

decides to bleach and color a little chunk of his hair to match yours with whatever dye you have left over. he does it in his fringe, sticking his tongue out at you when you tell him he looks like boy george.

takes so much care cleaning up the residue on your face and neck. spends a moment just staring into your eyes like a big lovey dope.

he sits and reads to you while you wait for the bleach / dye to set in (he's feeling a little cheeky with you wearing just a big t-shirt so he's definitely reading one of his porno mags to you). also plays his guitar for you and shares a joint from his good stash (if you're into that). you're so comfortable he has to remind you not to fall asleep.

insists on showering with you when it's time to rinse. he's the tenderest boy that ever lived and loves helping you wash your hair, giving you sweet little kisses all over your face and shoulders as he does.

asks to stay in the shower just a little longer, enjoying the hot water and holding you. totally ends up instigating shower sex.

no matter how the color turns out, eddie loves it. even if it's patchy, or didn't come out exactly the way you wanted it, he still thinks it looks gorgeous on you and "fuckin' punk as hell, sugar!". hypes you for days. takes polaroids to show the guys at hellfire bc he loves you. look how pretty his angel is.

"eddie, man, we get it. can you please focus and actually lead the campaign now?"

"loOK AT THIS ONE THO"

saves a lock of your colored hair as a keepsake. will probably even spend the money to get it turned into a piece of jewelry for himself. smitten af but don't point it out to him, he WILL get embarrassed.

[thewolfofthestars]

Because the idea Would Not Leave Me Alone here's my horsey headcanons for an OFMD western AU:

Stede: has a big handsome sort of horse, white or palomino, with a name to match--something noble, maybe military in nature. (Captain. His horse's name is Captain) He's... sassy even at the best of times, and outright disobedient at others. Stede's gang often jokes that he must secretly be riding a donkey under that pretty mane.

Ed: rides a black horse, with one white sock on his back left foot and a white blaze on his head so big it nearly covers his whole face. Gives him the look of having a black beard--where do you think Ed got the nickname from? Well, it's also from his own beard, though let it never be said a pet doesn't resemble its master. Everyone calls the horse Blackbeard but his name is actually something endearing and sweet.

Izzy: a smallish Appaloosa mare named Duchess, though he and Ed are the only ones who know that--he just calls her Horse around everyone else. If anyone dares insult or threaten her Izzy ensures there'll be hell to pay. Has a Geralt-esque relationship with her in that he talks to her and reacts as though she answers back. She often takes the voice of reason in these one-sided arguments. The gang finds this weird but has long since accepted it.

Lucius: a gangly, sway-backed mule, pampered by the whole gang with far too many treats because he just looks like such a pathetic baby. Acts the part, too, but did once absolutely stomp a pickpocket into the fucking dirt for sticking his fingers into the gang's supplies.

Black Pete: an all-black mare with a tiny spot of white hairs on her shoulder; Pete gets into a furious argument with anyone who points it out.

Jim: an absolute Creechure of a roan horse. Bitey, always snatching things, bucks off anyone else who tries to ride (until Olu). Jim neither punishes nor encourages this behavior. His name is Susan.

Oluwande: rides a brown-and-white paint. She's a steady soul, with an uncanny skill for seeking out folks who are feeling out of sorts and comforting them, which is very sweet until she decides to lick your face. Seems to have appointed herself leader of the gang's horses, and often tries to charge ahead and ride point.

Frenchie: by all measures a perfectly average chestnut mare, but for one bright icy blue eye. Frenchie is in love with her and terrified of her in equal measure. He sometimes tells the gang about how much she's taught him--like how women's bodies are naturally full of crystals, and how everyone thinks black cats are witches' familiars but it's really the toads you've got to watch out for.

Wee John: a high-strung, flighty bay, she's often the first to sense danger. When not on the alert, however, she loves a good roll in the dirt, much to Wee John's chagrin. (He doesn't mind, really, he loves brushing her out and pampering her.)

Ivan: rides a smallish, stocky buckskin. Has a habit of stealing people's hats and chewing on their hair. Ivan doesn't show him much outward affection but their bond is unmistakable.

Fang: a chestnut horse. He's big-boned, probably has some draft blood in him. His name is Bear, short for Teddy Bear, and he's got the temperament to match; he's a big ol' sweetheart. Fang takes every opportunity to dote on him when Blackbeard isn't looking.

The Swede: Has a very sweet and gentle pony that he's terrified of (and awful at) riding. Half the time the poor fella is strung along behind another horse while The Swede rides with one of the other gang members.

Buttons: actually he rides a cow.

Roach: a bay mare with white socks and a blaze. The least reactive of any of the gang's horses--she could probably sleep in the middle of a battlefield. Her name is Plotka, just cuz I think it'd be funny.

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 1

Read on Ao3

-

“Egg! Dinner!” 

Steve shook the container of dry food. The sound usually had Egg sprinting into him, yelling loudly through the house for her food. 

But she wasn’t coming. 

“Eggy!” He shook it again, heading out of the kitchen to see if maybe she couldn’t quite hear it. 

But still, no screeching, no pattering of little paws. 

“ Egg! ” He was beginning to feel, not good. 

She always came. Usually didn’t even let Steve out of her sight. 

He put down the container, racing up the stairs. 

He tore apart his bed, hoping to find big eyes staring at him, hoping to hear disgruntled mewing. 

“Egg, where are you girl?”

-

Billy kicked at a rock on the side of the road. 

The sun was beginning to set as he meandered down the main street, looking at the pitiful downtown. 

They had arrived a few days ago, spending all that time unpacking the moving truck, setting up their little house. 

Fuck Hawkins. 

He hated being landlocked. 

Hated being stuck in a shitty town. 

Hated that three days in, three days, and his dad has already taken his keys, has already slammed him against several of the walls in that house, has already kicked him out for the evening. 

He kicked the rock as hard as he could down an alleyway. 

He was met with a fucking scream. 

“Uh, hello?” It sounded like, like a kid was down there.

He was cautious, squinting into the shadowed alley. 

There was another shriek, and then yellow eyes peering at him. 

“ Oh .” 

It was a cat, a tiny little black cat. 

It yelled again.

“Loud baby, aren’t ya.” He crouched down, let the cat sniff around him. It had a collar on, and Billy got a look at the name. Egg Harrington. 

“Okay, who names a fucking cat Egg .” The cat looked at him. Meowing softly. 

He scooped it up, setting back down main street. 

-

“Egg!” 

Steve didn’t give a fuck anymore. 

He had his head sticking out his driver’s side window, driving slowly through town with his headlights as bright as possible, yelling her name. 

He was far beyond panicked, he had settled nicely in losing his shit. 

He needed to find her, needed to find her before someone else-some thing else- found her. 

He pulled over abruptly, parking his car. His baseball bat was tucked in his backpack as he set off on foot, armed with two flashlights and lots of batteries. 

The sun had set, and Steve was out here, looking for a black cat in the dark. 

“Egg! Please just come here. Come home with me, Honey, come on!”

He looked down each alleyway, shouting his head off like a fucking lunatic. 

But he had to find her. 

He had called Nancy to help him look, nearly in tears over the phone, begging for her to come out with him, only to be met with a flimsy excuse of watching her sister after dinner. 

He couldn’t really fault her, as he had to get out and search for his girl. 

He slumped against the diner wall, itching for a cigarette. But he had promised Nancy he’d quit, hadn’t had one in months. He settled for coffee, pushing his way into the diner. 

The waitress smiled brightly at him. Her name was Sylvia. She’d worked here since Steve was a kid. 

“Just you, Hun?”

“Yeah, Sylvia. Thanks.” She led him to a booth, tucked back in the corner. 

“Weird to see you here before midnight. You gonna actually get some food tonight?” The all-night diner had been Steve’s go to sanctuary for coffee after a particularly shitty nightmare. 

Which meant he was in there a few times a week. 

“Probably not. I’m just out looking for-”

His heart fucking stopped. 

He heard her. 

He heard his Egg.

Her yells were unmistakable, and he whipped around, saw her wriggling and writhing in some guy’s arms. She was looking right at Steve with those big yellow eyes, pupils wide and round.

Steve didn’t even register himself moving, just slid his arms around Egg, and held her close to his chest, burying his face in her fur. 

She purred loudly, relaxing immediately against him. 

“I take it you’re the fucker that named him Egg .”

Steve blinked slowly, finally registering who he had stolen his cat back from. 

“Named her Egg.” The guy just raised one sharp eyebrow. 

Yeah, Steve has never seen this guy in his life. 

He’d remember if he had. 

“Still a dumb name.”

“I was a kid, okay?” The guy just studied him for a bit, before his face cracked, smirk settling on his lips. 

“She’s cute.” Steve smiled back, settled himself in the booth opposite. “Loud as all fuck.”

“Yeah, she’s always been a yeller.” Steve leaned over the table, holding out his hand. “I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Billy Hargrove.”

Billy shook his hand. 

Steve Harrington. 

Billy liked his name. 

Well, honestly, he’d probably like any name as long as it was attached to this guy. Billy shook his head. 

None of that here. 

“Thanks for taking care of her.” Steve was looking down at Egg, scratching between her ears. 

She was perched on his lap, looking up at him like he was the whole world. 

It was the softest shit Billy had ever seen. 

“She’s sweet. Lost her damn mind when she saw you, though.” And then warm brown eyes were back on Billy, and it was genuinely difficult not to cow under them. 

“We’re very best friends.” Steve’s smile was sunshine. Just as warm and bright as his stupid fucking eyes. His stupid cheeks had a smattering of moles on them. Billy could see them dotting his neck too. 

He wrenched his eyes away from them. 

“That’s a little bit lame there, Harrington.” Billy couldn’t bring himself to call him Steve. 

He’s not allowed to be on first name basis with this guy. 

Steve raised one eyebrow, pursing his perfect pink lips-

Fucking come on, Billy. Don’t look at the fucker’s lips.

“How very rude of you. I’ll inform you, I used to be hot shit at the old high school.”

“You graduated?”

“No, I’m a senior. Just, you know, not hot shit anymore. Cold shit.” Billy barked a laugh, the cat looking wildly at him. 

“Fuckin’ cold shit .” He shook his head, fiddling with the laminated menu in front of him. “I’m gonna be a junior. Just like, by the way.”

“You new in town?” Steve smiled brightly at the waitress as she poured him a cup of coffee. Billy wrinkled his nose as he proceeded to dump sugar into it, rounding it off with four creams. 

Billy just kept his plain. 

“Moved here a few days ago. From California.”

“Jesus, why ?” Egg was currently staring back at Steve, pawing at his stomach. 

Billy’s heart nearly fell outta his asshole as Steve lifted up the hem of his sweatshirt, Egg tucking herself close to his body as he pulled it back down. 

He had smooth pale skin. Had even more fuckin’ moles, and sweet God, the fucking hair. His happy trail was dark, sinking down into the waistband of his jeans. 

Billy’s mouth was dry. 

Egg meowed softly from under his sweater. 

“My, uh, my dad remarried. He wanted to have a fresh start, or whatever.”

“No, I just mean, why here? This town is a shithole.”

“Yeah, I could see that.” Steve kicked him under the table. Billy ignored the way his stomach flopped. 

“Don’t be rude .”

“You just said it was a shithole.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m allowed to say that.” Steve broke off a small piece of one of Billy’s strips of bacon, holding it down the collar of his sweater. 

Egg meowed at him, no doubt taking the bacon. 

“Besides, you didn’t answer my question. Why here ?” Billy shrugged. 

He doesn’t really think telling Steve the truth would completely fly. 

After all, his dad’s a lot smarter than Billy has ever wanted to give him credit for. 

“Something about small towns having nice communities.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, they’re nice until everyone talks shit behind your back.” He picked off another piece of bacon, dropping it down his sweatshirt as well. His tone had shifted, his body slumping forward a little bit. The cat in his sweatshirt squirmed a little. 

“You say that like you know from experience.” Steve shot him a glare. 

“Remember how I said I’ve lived here my whole life?” He rolled his coffee mug between his hands. 

“That bad, huh?” Steve shrugged. 

“Might be better for you.”

“Doubt it.”

Steve’s sweater gave a sharp mreow. He put one hand against her, jostling her like one would a baby.

“I should get her home. She needs dinner.” He pulled out the neck of his sweater, smiling at the cat in there. “Thank you for taking care of her. Scared the shit outta me when I realized she was gone.” Billy’s breath caught in his chest when Steve looked back at him. “Let me pay for your dinner.”

Billy had the no ready on his lips, but Steve was already digging into his wallet, pulling out a crisp twenty, placing it under his mug. 

He stood up, holding beneath the lump still in his sweatshirt, cradling Egg close to him as she curled tighter. 

“Thanks again. I really woulda lost my shit if anything bad had happened to her.” And he gave Billy another smile, one so sweet and full of fucking sunshine it only made him fucking ache for California. 

Billy just nodded at him, pointedly didn’t look at his ass as he walked away. 

Because his dad uprooted the whole family to deposit them here. Where Billy would probably be hunted like Frankenstein’s fuckin’ monster by an angry mob of villagers if he let himself look at other boys’ asses as they walked away. 

He just finished his food. 

Left the bacon Steve had picked pieces off of for last. 

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

Imagine You are All Might’s Personal Assistant

All Might truly is the fastest man on Earth.

“What do you mean he just left? Where could he have gone?” you shout.

  The police officer shrugs giving you a pitying look. It makes you want to smack it off his young baby looking face. Unfortunately, that would be assault and you are pretty sure you’d get arrested…All Might’s personal assistant or not. Besides you don’t want to deal with the added stress of bad publicity, even if you get some joy out of it.

  “Well, we just got a call about a robbery not too far from here. Maybe he went –“baby officer barely got the words out, before you sped off shouting a loud, “Thank you!”

  Ask any personal assistant of a major superhero, what the most important ability needed for their job was, and they all answer: being able to always find your superhero. It may seem like a simple ability seeing how superheroes almost always made themselves known to the public (minus a few underground heroes like Eraserhead, who hated the spotlight), but, it isn’t so simple. Sure, you know how to easily find All Might, for that you just check online. After all, the All Might Watch Forum tends to keep a better update on the hero than the police did. No, the real trouble comes in figuring out how to get to where your hero is.

               For almost all personal assistants this is the first pain of their job.  Superhero’s often have their own means of transportation and vice versa for their sidekicks; personal assistants though generally consisted of people with average quirk abilities.  Meaning while their bosses took to the skies, teleported, or ran at breakneck pace, they themselves took taxis-or in your case ran. Luckily for you, All Might’s next heroic save happened to be only a few blocks away. An annoyance still but manageable.  You only pray now that he stays there. The hero has a horrible habit of leaving without a word.

    Thankfully luck is on your side for the first time today. All Might is still there when you arrive. His loud boisterous laughter reminding those around him that everything is alright. Besides him, a bloody villain slumps over, tied in what looks like clothed nappies?  Apparently, the robbery took places at a daycare of all places, or at least it did, if any of the cooing babies and swooning mothers had anything to say

   Pushing your way through the crowds of excited reporters and citizens, you hear All Might’s too familiar boom of , “Fear not. Because I am here!”

  You can’t help the bitter irritation rising in you. Fear not? Oh, someone is going to have something to fear. Boss or not, he’s totally going to hear it from you. However, the lecture gets put on pause as you finally make it to the front. All Might’s still there standing proudly in front of a disturbingly bland daycare front. Its simplistic lettering of ‘KIDZ LEARN ABC’S” contrasts against his glowing persona. Around him, toddlers and mothers alike drool trying for his attention, to which he spares a grin and handshake to each one.

   The sight screams All Might. It is so pure, so kind, so friendly-you must take a picture for social medial! Sliding the portable camera out of your bag, you quickly snap a couple of pics. Job number three of being a hero’s personal assistant: run their social media accounts. Most heroes with personal assistants fall into one of two categories: they are either high in ranking or up and coming. Either way, they all need someone to manage their publicity stuff.

  Despite the flash of the camera, All Might takes no notice of you. Probably due to all the ongoing flashes of media cameras around him. The attention comes with every save so he’s more than used to someone somewhere taking his picture. No, it’s not until some brown-haired reporter asks, “All Might, a word please?”

That you intervene letting your presence be known. “All Might is unfortunately needed elsewhere. So, any questions or requests for an interview about today’s current rescues can be forward to his agency.”

  The blond-haired hero stiffens besides the reporter. Sweat begins to form on his face at the sight of you. As horrible as it sounds you take great pleasure in the panic on his face. Not many people scare the great Symbol of Peace. In fact, you can only really say two other people not including yourself, have the power to make the hero squirm.

“(Y/N)- I didn’t see you there.” The hero stutters uncharacteristically.

     You shoot him your best glare, causing him to shrink back. No one will ever understand just why someone so comparably tiny and non-life threatening could have so much control over the hero. Villains came and went without him so much as breaking a sweat. Yet you with neither the power nor quirk to stop him, scare All Might.

“I saved a pre-school!” he babbled, picking up a random toddler. “See? Aren’t they the most precious thing you ever seen? Wouldn’t it be horrible if something happened to them?”

   He is milking it, and he knows it. Not only does he sound like a bumbling idiot on camera, but the toddler he chose, smells something awful. Still All Might refuses to give up. Children are your weakness. Their gummy gooey smiles make you coo every time. In fact, if you weren’t his assistant, the hero is sure you’d be a teacher.

   “All Might, we agreed on letting other heroes do the rescuing sometimes? Remember? Keeping the market open for others?” you press voice low.

  ‘ Keeping the market open for others,’ a code for ‘you’re going to run out of time.’ A hard to swallow truth, but the truth nonetheless. Not many people knew about his injury, his time limit, but you knew everything-almost everything. For your safety, he kept the truth behind his quirk a secret. His return to Japan/ his decision to take on teaching all hidden under the guise of searching for a successor.  

“Yes, well-look at these chubby cheeks!” he replied, pushing the kid towards you. Again shameless, but did he really care? No. Last time All Might angered you, he sported a pink suit for two months. And while the hero didn’t discriminate against any color, the hearts and frills were too much. “Could I really risk the chance of another hero arriving on time?”

  “All Might-“ you started only for the kid to cry, “All Might!” as well.

   You glanced over at the toddler, eyes softening. Said hero couldn’t help but feel like the cat who ate the canary. Silently he cheered for the kid to continue. If they did a really good job, All Might would send them some signed memorabilia.

  Shaking your head, you fought the doubt creeping within you. As preferable as it would be to just let the man off, you knew you couldn’t do it. Rescuing kids may take priority to most things, however not when there are other heroes perfectly capable of doing the job for him. “Don’t try and get out of this one. I’ve chased you to not two or three, but five different incidents.” You pressed. “Without flight, teleportation, or transportation! Do you know how hard it is for someone without a quirk or car to follow you?!”

All Might slumped slightly under the pressure of your lecture. Each escaping your mouth seemed to hit him worse than any supervillain could. “Not to mention you’re overdoing it again.” You lectured, ignoring the exasperated looks on his and everyone else’s face.

  You knew how people viewed. Most PA’s tended to be shy docile beings pushed around by their heroes or ignored. In fact, the average years for a PA to work under a hero ranged from two to three years, before they either quit or got fired. Those who lasted longer tended to be outliers such as yourself; people not easily cowed by the awe of their employers. As for All Might’s view of you…he knew how much you truly cared about him. It was why he kept you around despite your lecturing and harsh tactics.

  Having someone worry for him felt nice, especially given how he cared more about others than himself. A natural feeling obviously for heroes, but All Might ignored his health beyond that of usual heroes in your opinion. “You worry too much, (Y/N). I’m built to last.” He grinned, thumping his chest. “See?”

     His words did nothing to quell your fear. From day one-even before the tragic accident you worried over him; almost as if he wasn’t the world’s greatest hero just another human being. It was strange considering how used to being worshipped by even his own friends, All Might was.  Everyone saw only the smile and hero versus the man behind it. Yet you never did. To you, All Might was just a man with an extraordinary job and that…that felt nice.

    “Come on (Y/N), let’s go home. I promise to leave the rest of the saving to the other heroes for today.” All Might grinned, patting your head.

  You blinked cut off mid-rant. A warmth spread through your cheeks at the gesture, but you pushed it back. Falling in love with your hero was a big no-no in the world of PA’s. However could anyone really blame you when it came to such a selfless man like All Might?

[boatemhole]

crossfire | a hermitcraft x dreamsmp crossover

ohhh boy oh boy. remember that hc x dsmp crossover i was talking about a while back? the one with ranboo and zed? well, i finally finished writing it! i can be found here on wattpad, or if you don’t have it you can read it under the cut :D

this is actually more hermitcraft-centered than dsmp, so heads-up for that. i don’t watch too much dsmp so i tried to keep it as vague as possible for ranboo’s parts. i had a lot of help from my friends on that bit

word count: 2115 tws: swearing, mentions of wars

Ranboo wasn't sure where he was, but it definitely wasn't the Dream SMP.

The place he found himself in had buildings that seemed to stretch upwards forever. There was no consistency in the block palettes; each build had its own distinct style. Some were larger than the others--one build that looked like a town hall seemed to overlook the rest of the builds. Ranboo could even see more buildings that were in the background and seemed to have their own islands.

What was this place? Was this someone's base? It was huge. It seemed to go on forever.

For some reason, the grass hadn't spread around the island completely yet. He noticed some large patches of dirt that looked freshly dugout. Little sprouts of grass had started to grow, but it hadn't completely covered the dirt yet.

As Ranboo wandered the area, he heard a small moo. Turning around, he saw a lone mooshroom, its red and white hide looking out of place among the green grass. He vaguely remembered that mooshrooms are supposed to be in mycelium islands, not regular ones like this.

How did this one get here, then? Poor thing.

Had this place been a mushroom island before? It would explain the still-spreading grass. Whoever owned this place must have put in so much time and effort here between the builds and the replaced mycelium. It was incredible. The look of this place was chaotic--so many different styles crammed together--but, at the same time, there was a certain harmony it had.

Ranboo slowly walked up to the mooshroom as to not scare it. When the cow approached him, he held out a hand and petted it a bit, feeling surprising sympathy for the animal. It was taken out of its natural habit and was alone now.

Kind of how he had found himself here, in this place he had no idea how to navigate.

As he petted the mooshroom, he thought he heard a firework sound off in the background. When he looked around, though, there was nothing.

Oh, yeah. Where were all the people? Where was the person that built this place?

Then, he looked up and saw someone flying above him.

Flying...?

Ranboo didn't recognize the grayish-purple wings strapped onto the man's back. They looked light, but they managed to catch the wind so the person who had the wings strapped to them glided around easily. Instead of feathers, these wings had a more silky, transparent look to them. There were only two main parts of the set, and they functioned pretty simply. The two parts just expanded whenever the person was in flight.

The person noticed Ranboo, too, and he landed on the ground. It wasn't anyone Ranboo recognized. They had light blonde hair, violet eyes, and a brown tunic. He was wearing diamond armor--no netherite. And instead of a chestplate, he was wearing those wings.

From the look on his face, he didn't recognize Ranboo, either.

The guy gave Ranboo that confused once-over, like he wasn't sure who--or what--he was looking at. He must have looked very odd compared to the other person's attire.

"Um...how did you get here?" he said after a moment. "I, uh, haven't seen you around before."

Ranboo sighed inwardly. "Honestly, I don't even know myself."

He reached into his inventory for his memory book, but after a few moments of digging around for it...he didn't find it. He opened his backpack all the way to look for it, but it wasn't there.

He started to panic a bit. He didn't like going anywhere without his memory book--he tended to forget things a lot, and he wrote them down in his book so he didn't forget. Without it, he constantly forgot important things...like how he'd gotten here.

...Shit.

The other person noticed his panic and hurriedly gave him a "calm-down" gesture. "Hey, don't worry about it," he said quickly. "I'm sure there's a reason why you're here."

"I'm Zedaph, by the way," he added as an afterthought. "You can call me Zed. For now, why don't I take you to Xisuma? He might know something about all this."

Zedaph? Xisuma? Who the hell were these people?

"Listen, I don't think I'm supposed to be here--" Ranboo said, looking around as if he could somehow find an exit out of this place. "I'm part of a different SMP, not...whatever this one is. I don't even know what this place is--I belong to the Dream SMP."

Zed paused as something occurred to him. "Wait--hold on, you're a part of the Dream SMP?"

Ranboo was a bit confused at Zed's sudden curiosity. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

Zed leaned against a shop's storefront, petting the mooshroom Ranboo found earlier idly. "What is it like?"

Ranboo was really confused now. Zed had changed topics at the speed of light. "Uh, what is what like?"

"The Dream SMP."

When Ranboo raised an eyebrow, Zed continued.

"Well, we've heard some things about that SMP. It's kind of infamous. Big reputation. I don't really know how to explain this, but uh...we've heard that conflicts on that server are more...major?" His voice went up an octave. "More serious? Than other SMPs, at least."

"Oh, um. Yeah." Ranboo was careful choosing his words, knowing he was treading on a ground littered with landmines. "What about it?"

"Well, compared to a place like here--Hermitcraft--we have more, uh, lighthearted conflicts. Not entirely serious, you know?" Zed cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced to the side.

So this was Hermitcraft. Just like how Zed said the DSMP was well-known, people knew the Hermitcraft server well, too. Specifically their big, grindy builds. Ranboo should have known that's where he was. This place definitely did Hermitcraft justice.

Zed was still looking at him curiously. Ranboo knew he wasn't going to let this go until he said something about it--he seemed like that kind of person.

"Well, I'm probably not the best person to turn to for this kind of stuff," Ranboo started.

"Hey, you're the only DSMP member who's appeared in our server randomly," Zed joked with a little laugh. "You're my only source. You can probably say something ridiculous that would never happen here and I'd have to believe you."

"Okay. A place called L'Manburg was blown up three times by three different people at three different times." Ranboo put on his best deadpan face, though Zed probably couldn't see it behind his mask and sunglasses.

Zed stared at him for a count of five. "...You're not joking, are you?"

"Nope. Actually happened."

"Um...wow. Okay." Zed didn't seem to know what to do with that info. That kind of stuff was probably unheard of in a place like this. "H-how did that happen anyway? What prompts someone to blow up this place thrice? What did it do to deserve that?"

Ranboo went stiff. Zed had hit a sensitive spot. "Wars. Conflict in the server. So many sides taken, the SMP is split in half."

"And...what side are you on?" Zed asked softly.

"...None."

Zed leaned back, surprised by the answer. "Oh, um...can I ask why? If you're comfy saying it, of course."

"No, it's okay." Ranboo took a deep breath before continuing.

"I have this policy. 'Choose people, not sides.' Every conflict on this server has started out because of two conflicting beliefs. Then, people start taking the side of one belief. Then, it just...escalates from there. I don't choose a side because that's going to solve nothing. Instead, I choose people. Of course, I want all this conflict to be over.

"But it never stops."

He trailed off as he realized he'd started rambling. "Uh, crap, you probably didn't want to hear all that, though--I'm sorry--"

"No, no, it's okay," Zed said quickly. "It's just...y'see, on Hermitcraft, our wars are more...lighthearted. Not as serious. I've said this before. There's no real conflict, just servermates messing around with each other."

"I wish I could experience that kind of thing," Ranboo muttered. It made sense that a place like this didn't have a lot of real conflict. It was like a haven of some sort to Ranboo. A special place that was unachievable in his own server.

"...I can't imagine going to actual war when it's my friends who are on the opposing side," Zed continued. "I mean, sure, we've had wars before, but it's always lighthearted roleplay. We're not actually mad at each other, y'know?"

He was silent for a moment before adding on one last bit. "Though some...recent wars...have gotten a bit more out of hand."

"How about you?" Ranboo asked. "What side are you on for these wars?"

"Would you believe me if I said 'none', too?" Zed said with a smile.

"Wait...really?"

"Not for the reasons you are. It's just...not my thing. I don't usually get involved in big server events. I have my own projects I want to work on. Though I have these two friends—Tango and Impulse—who always get involved. And they always end up on opposite teams."

"What's that like after the war is over?"

"Weird. It didn't use to be like this, but there's this...lingering tension now. Like I said earlier, the wars are getting a bit more serious, and it takes me a while longer to break the ice again between 'em. It's not like immediately after the war things go back to normal. Not anymore."

Ranboo let out a small puff of laughter. "Seems like we each have our own problems, huh?"

"...Yeah. Seems like it."

Ranboo's smile faded, and he sighed. "I wish I could be a part of a really close server like this. It seems fun."

"What do you mean?"

"Well...let's just say I don't really have any close friends on the DSMP."

"...You don't?"

Ranboo instantly regretted oversharing with Zed. The reason why he never told people about this is that they tended to go "Oh, poor you"! and baby you afterward.

Why did he share this with Zed, anyway? Out of all the people he could have confessed to...why a Hermit? They had it easy over here. How could he understand? Why not talk to someone on the DSMP who could?

But...Zed continued to surprise him with what he said.

"If you want...I can be your first real friend."

Ranboo did a double-take. Out of all the things Zed had said—and some of them had seemed downright foreign to him—this is what surprised him the most. He didn't go "Poor thing! Do you want a hug?" or awkwardly change the subject...he listened. More importantly, he understood.

And that was something Ranboo wasn't used to.

He realized Zed was waiting for an answer, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. He couldn't say anything that could properly convey the...happiness he felt when Zed offered to be his friend. Yes, that was it. He didn't realize how lonely he'd felt before.

Even if he did have people he hung out with more on the DSMP, he never felt close to them. That wasn't something he felt with Zed. For whatever reason, in the short time he'd talked to him, Ranboo felt like he could relate to him. A lot. They had to deal with the same kind of problem, even if their conflicts were on opposite ends. They were two sides of the same coin.

"...Yeah," he said after a moment longer. "I'd like that."

Zed smiled a bit, and Ranboo did have to read too deep into it to know that he was thinking along the same lines as he was right now. He was that kind of person.

After a moment of silence, Zed cleared his throat. "Um. Though...you know you can't stay here forever. You have your own server, and the whitelist will kick you out sooner or later. You belong in the Dream SMP. Not here. As much as I'd like you to stay."

Ranboo laughed as a thought occurred to him. "It was never meant to be, huh?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"But--before the whitelist kicks you out, we should make the most of the time left. I don't know if I'll see you again, y'know? And I want to hear about everything in the DSMP."

Ranboo felt a smile grow on his face. Zed delivering bad news, then immediately following with a hopeful smile afterward was something he'd do. He was glad he met Zed today...even if it was under the weirdest circumstances he'd ever encountered. And he'd seen some pretty odd things.

"Yeah. C'mon, let's go find somewhere to sit." Zed got up from his sitting spot, brushed off the dirt, and gestured for Ranboo to follow him. "I'll tell you what's happening in my server, and you can tell me about yours!"