#anyway part three is much smaller than part two as well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months

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imagining Charlie having an Oh moment when she finds Vaggie napping in a chair one day, early on, with Razzle and Dazzle sprawled out over Vaggie like they're trying to cover as much of her small body as they can with their own even smaller ones-

Charlie pulls out her phone and stealthily inches closer for a picture (she's doesn't' wanna wake them she swears) (she's just never seen something so cuuuuute-)

but a floor board squeaks and Razzle cracks an eye open to glower while Dazzle shushes her

and Charlie stops

There's another Oh... moment, because they've never shushed her before. They were brought to life to keep her safe and they've always only cared about that one thing- it took months for them to stop following Vaggie around the house suspiciously, like they always did with anyone Charlie tried having a relationship with, like a pair of silent, plush guard dogs-

(glaring at Vaggie from shadows, from across the table at breakfast and dinner, from the pillows directly over her head when Charlie finally convinced her maybe sharing a bed would help with the night terrors)

-but that'd all changed, at some point. Only, Charlie hadn't noticed until now

now she does. Now suddenly, she wonders

Charlie creeping over on silent, careful hooves, to gently stroke between the tiny wings of her childhood friends, looking from them to Vaggie's relaxed and sleeping face (getting a little lost watching her, for moment) (reaching out to tuck back a strand of the hair Vaggie is growing out long, accidently stroking Vaggie's cheek, forgetting to take her hand away afterwards) (the longer hair is hard not to play with, she excuses)

Charlie leaning in and asking Razzle and Dazzle, in the softest whisper-

"....are you keeping her safe for me?"

a pair of soft little churrs rising up in answer. Two little plush demons, snuggling closer to Vaggie as Vaggie frowns in her sleep, shifting restlessly, stirring-

Charlie freezing bc she has NO idea what to say if Vaggie wakes up and finds her- well. looming kinda?? while Vaggie SLEEPS???

it feels different than just already being there when Vaggie wakes up in the night, different in how waking up like that was normal when they'd gone to bed together, but crouching down to STARE at someone like this, with your hand still on her cheek, scared to move it in case that REALLY wakes her up when she DIDN'T get much sleep last night and DIDN'T wake you up that time for some reason so you couldn't snuggle her or make her feel better and now you might startle her instead or make her feel awkward which you hate- you don't want her to ever feel awkward around you-

it doesn't matter though

because Vaggie settles down again, as Dazzle croons quietly and Razzle reaches out a little paw to gently press her arm

she used to jump and flinch a little every time she saw them

when did that change?

these days she flicks little snacks at them from off her plate, no matter how many times Charlie reminds her they have their OWN plates and their OWN donuts and are just begging to get ATTENTION, the little show-stealers-

(not like Charlie's doing that too by complaining) (noooooo) (not like she grins like an idiot when Vaggie smiles and says cute things deserve a little extra attention, while looking over at Charlie instead)

these days any annoying demon who comes looking to curry favor with Lucifer (or trying pulling one over Morningstar's "naïve" daughter) gets pinned by THREE dangerous glares while waiting at the door for Charlie to hurry downstairs and meet them

(or rather shoo them away before they say something too not nice and Vaggie grabs her spear while Razzle and Dazzle get within ankle biting range)

when she thinks about it, things have been different for a while now

better. They've been better, and Charlie still doesn't know when or how it happened, and maybe that part doesn't matter so much anyway

in the present, Charlie takes the chance to retrieve her hand (reluctantly..) so she can slip off her jacket and tuck it around the three of them- Razzle, Dazzle. Vaggie- her two old friends and one new but very important one-

important enough to be considered part of her, by them as were created to protect her

and that's a new idea too. but she likes it a lot, she thinks

she likes being part of a family again

Vaggie wakes up a good solid two hours of nap time later with Razzle and Dazzle draped over her like furry boas and Charlie's head in her lap, a former Exorcist absolutely COVERED in cuddly demons-

she stays completely still for another hour more afterwards, stiff neck be damned, watching the three of them sleep. Smiling.

.... (it's only the three of them, later)

(when vaggie flutters up and finds razzle curled up on dazzle's memorial, the night after the battle. when she tucks him into her shoulder and heads back to her and charlie's rebuilt room. as a relieved and teary eyed charlie scoops him up and the three up them huddle together under vaggie's reformed wings)

(it's only three of them... but part of why charlie cries that night is knowing dazzle did his job- vaggie is still here)

(dazzle did his best. and for everything charlie lost, the old hotel, too many of the cannibals who followed her, almost all the egg bois, sir pentious, dazzle himself, the faith that she could solve all this without anyone getting hurt...)

(she didn't lose the part of herself that'd held her together the night before the battle, held so many other times, through family calls and failed meetings with heaven) (she didn't lose vaggie-)

(and some of charlie's tears that night, for dazzle, are grateful)

(he died trying to keep charlie safe. and he did. he did)

#hazbin hotel #razzle and dazzle hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #chaggie #vaggie #silly headcanons #ah it turned a little sad at the end...#hm #we'll thats fair i guess #its been too sad to talk about razzle and dazzle knowing what happens #but i think them and vaggie would've been good friends #and trusted each other with charlie #the Most Important thing #to all of them

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i-like-eyes · 1 year

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Trying to figure out how they'd work as puppets

More in depth analysis below the break

For those that don't know, typically the three most common variants of foam puppet are know as rod hand, live hand, and walk around. Examples would be Elmo, Cookie Monster, and Big Bird respectively. Rod hands are smaller in size and held up by, well, rods. Live hands have the puppeteer (or two!) insert their hand in a sleeve connected to the puppet for more interaction. Walk around puppets are full costumes the puppeteer wears, but what makes them puppets and not like, fursuits, is that there is still puppet mechanisms like moving the mouth or blinking.

Here is what comes from the website/Clown's tumblr:

Julie is a rod hand

Eddie is a live hand

Poppy is a walk around

Barnaby has a walk around and live hand

Howdy has a walk around and live hand

Sally is a live hand but "required an additional hand to help move her head, as it was much larger than other puppets"

Frank is said to have a fixed expression but his head could spin, rather he was rod or live or magic third thing I cannot figure out

Wally doesn't have any details regarding his puppet anatomy because he is special like that

Of note:

Julie likely has smth holding up all that hair (please be a fucked up skull please be a fucked up skull)

Poppy is a pretty standard walk-around puppet (she's just Big Bird), but I'm having trouble understanding how a human could fit into Barnaby or Howdy. Then again, 2d artwork of puppets tend to take liberties for the sake of stylization. So if someone were to make them IRL they'd either look really different or utilize tech I don't think was available in the early 70's

Howdy's legs could work on Squidward Spongebob Musical logic. Arms I have no clue, as a live hand he could have multiple people filling up those arms, but as a walk around idk cheap spider costume logic were the lower arms are attached to the upper arms ala a string?

I do not know what to make of Sally needing extra help to hold up other than that's so specific it might become a plot point

Frank.

Okay Frank lacking details or having weird details that stand out is a running theme for him. He has no listed backstory whereas everyone else can say where there were from and who their family is. Every character's first name ends with a long "e" sound whereas Frank is. Frank. (His last name "Frankly" does cover that though). The fact that WHRP lacks any concrete detail on his creation is a story reason, what's the story no clue we are 5% in dudes

Regarding his puppet, he obviously had a fixed frown because puppet but also could spin his head. Now I have absolutely zero clue how you can have the head spin and also have room for the hand for the mouth, unless this is a rod puppet (Rizzo the Rat) where the mouth is moved by some other mechanism. All I can say is I'd suspect Frank to have a very stiff (read: not majority foam) head and body in order to hold up such a feature. If his head can detach, I can imagine a metal ring of sorts that his collar covers up

His arms are a different story. The website not clarifying how his arms work doesn't really mean there is anything particular about them, but I am going to over analyze is anyway dammit

Points for rod hand: arms/hands are slim, inspirations Bert and Mr.Robinson are rod hands, lack of other rod hands/variety reasons

Points for live hand: Sally also has slim hands but is live hand, not all live hands have thick arms (looks at how small Ernie's upper arms are compared to his fore arms), Beaker hasn't been listed as an exact inspiration for Frank but look at him, and most importantly is Poppy. Poppy is noteworthy for being the only walk around puppet without a live hand counter part. As a result of having wings for hands the puppeteer cannot realistically perform any of the baking tasks in her segment. As a result she gets help from Sally, Howdy, Eddie, and Frank. The former 3 are all live hands, and one can assume that because of this Frank could be a live hand as well

And finally I know he's said to not super expressive but my heart says that he would look great with the eyebrow mechanism Bert and other puppets have.

I should point out that puppets from the 90's (Dinosaurs and TMNT come to mind) used more robotics in order to achieve more expression with the characters, but I don't think that kind of tech was common place in the 70's and would apply here.

The big take away is that this post was made for practical reasons; I am just Quite Fond of researching this kind of thing. This will probably not get you any lore, but it could provide context for the characters. I personally suspect that Poppy not being able to fly or perform tasks she swore she could will play a big of her character. In general I think that what other puppets can and cannot accomplish will play into the theme of figuring out who you are. That's the real fun.

#welcome home #julie joyful #eddie dear #barnaby b beagle #howdy pillar #poppy partridge #frank frankly #throwing him in because he takes up a good chunk of speculation

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jiggy-manda · 2 months

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restriction

jennifer jareau x fem!reader

jj and her girlfriend have to meet her mother, the woman obsessed with numbers and weights and calories

tw: disordered eating

wc: 4.3k

JJ has never had a healthy relationship with food.

Growing up as an athlete, she was always expected to be in tip-top shape, and it didn’t help that her mother was naturally a size two– “Naturally,” as her mom put it.

But JJ knew better.

Maybe her mother wasn’t aware of her own eating patterns, but JJ definitely was. She’d grown up with it. The first time she’d ever had a regular soda was at ten, and her mother nearly had a heart attack when she saw the red can. Roslyn had to be the one to tell her that talking about calories and sugar content to a ten year old wasn’t going to do anything but weaken her relationship with food.

But Roslyn isn’t here anymore.

————

JJ has never been skinny enough.

Even as a varsity soccer player, her mother still found ways to dote on her appearance. Whether she noticed that JJ only ate on the days she had soccer games or not, she didn’t let on. Whether she noticed the shower running after dinner every night or not, she didn’t let on. Even at ten, when JJ was still playing on the smaller field, her mother found ways to correct her. Your stomach is showing through your shirt. Your calves are too fat for those socks. Keep this up and they’re gonna put you on goal.

Roslyn was the only one that understood. She took JJ to get ice cream after her games, even if she lost. She bought ice cream for JJ, and then took it home every single time after JJ started refusing it.

But Roslyn isn’t here anymore.

After Roslyn died, everything spiraled out of control.

Except for JJ’s diet.

Once Roslyn died, JJ started obsessively counting her calories. Her sister was gone, and she was left only with her parents. Her dad was absent most of the time, leaving her in the care of her mother.

Her mother stopped commenting on JJ’s weight and what she consumed.

Instead, these comments were then replaced with compliments.

“Jennifer, darling, your collarbones are absolutely stunning.”

“Jennifer, you’ve been looking amazing lately. I’m not sure what you’re doing, but whatever it is, it’s working.”

“Jennifer… Ros would be so proud of the woman you grew into.”

It made her sick.

Anytime anyone mentioned Ros— her Ros— she felt sick. They didn’t know her. Not like JJ, anyway. They didn’t cry with her at three in the morning; they weren’t there when she had panic attacks in the bathroom. Nobody was there for Roslyn when she was alive, and nobody was there for her when she just couldn’t take it anymore. Nobody but JJ.

Nobody else knew about Roslyn’s girlfriend. Nobody but JJ.

JJ’s mother was never there for Roslyn when she was alive, but she was there at the funeral, playing the grieving mother who was oh so sad and had done absolutely everything she possibly could to save her.

Bullshit.

JJ knew the truth. Her mother had just as much of a part in Roslyn’s suicide as everyone else, if not more. JJ found her mother’s grief almost laughable. She might as well have just done the job herself, with the way she treated Roslyn.

Over the years, JJ only kept in contact with Roslyn’s old girlfriend, Emily.

Roslyn had died when JJ was eleven. Now, almost 23, JJ is almost just as broken as she was more than a decade ago.

Almost.

————

JJ sat down on her bed as she quickly tapped her thumb and middle finger together, an anxious habit she’d picked up from Ros. Today was the anniversary of Ros’s death, and while she’d much rather spend it with her girlfriend, she knew her parents would never allow it.

A movement causing the weight of the bed to shift caught her attention, and she turned as you sat down next to her.

“You doing okay?”

JJ gave you a pointed look.

“Valid.”

You heard her sigh, and you took her hand into yours, tracing the patterns in her palm. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

JJ smiled and covered your hand with hers, a silent sign of appreciation.

“When do we leave?” You asked her.

“Um,” JJ looked down at her phone for a moment. “We have about half an hour.”

“Okay,” you said with a smile. “And, um…” You trailed off, not quite sure how to segue the conversation into what you wanted to discuss.

“She’s not coming, is she?”

Your heart dropped when you saw the disappointment and sadness on her face. “No.”

JJ let out a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling, trying to control her breathing. “Okay. That’s okay,” she said, convincing no one.

You frowned. “JJ… you’re allowed to feel upset.” You put a hand on her shoulder. “Emily is the only current connection you have to her right now, besides your family. And… Emily is the only one who really knew you guys. Both of you. It makes sense that you’re upset, just… try not to blame her too much. It’s… a lot. This time of year. Mom and Dad worry about her, and I do too.”

Blue eyes met yours as JJ lifted her head up to pay more attention.

“She...” You hesitated, not wanting to approach unwarranted territory.

JJ heard the shift in your voice.

It wasn’t just any shift. It was a shift she knew perfectly– the shift of tone where she immediately knew that someone was about to bring up food in front of her.

“Y/N, it’s okay. Just say it,” she said with a sad smile.

“She doesn’t eat,” you said guiltily. “This time of year. Especially today. And I think… I think she’s scared that if she sees you today, she might spiral. And it’s not about you, or your eating habits,” you quickly corrected. “It’s about the situation as a whole, and I just don’t think she can mentally handle it. Not yet.”

You squeezed JJ’s hand, and she returned the gesture, giving you a smile.

“I get it. It’s just… I wish we saw each other more often. I know she’s busy, and I know I’m busy, but I just wish I didn’t have to invite her to the memorial of her dead girlfriend to get her attention.” JJ flinched at the bluntness in her own voice, still sensitive to her sister’s death.

You squeezed her hand again. “I know.” You swept some hair off her shoulder, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Now,” you started, leaning back and situating yourself comfortably. “Your mother…”

JJ groaned and covered her face with her palms, falling backwards on the bed. “I hate her,” she mumbled.

Adjusting yourself to lean back, you crawled to cuddle into her side and gave a soft kiss to her neck. “I know.” Another kiss. “But we need to figure out a way for you to interact with her that’s not triggering to you.”

JJ looked at you as if you’d just suggested she swim across the pacific.

“Listen, your mom is an asshole who bullied you to the point of an eating disorder. She’s a piece of shit, but she’s your piece of shit, and until we can completely cut her off, we just have to do what we can. Bare minimum. We won’t even stay that long, okay? Two hours, tops.”

JJ gazed up at you, her sad doe eyes breaking your heart. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

She grinned as she sat up to hug you, grateful for the support. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I love you,” you responded.

Her grip tightened.

————

JJ’s house was big. Not nearly as big as you and Emily’s, but big nonetheless. You’d only ever been there a few times– JJ wasn’t big on bringing people home, and since you both lived together, she didn’t really feel the need to bring you around often.

JJ’s parents didn’t know about you guys, but they didn’t not know. JJ never sat down and told them that she had a girlfriend; she sort of just started bringing you around everywhere and people made assumptions accordingly.

You held onto JJ’s hand as you walked through the hallway, passing the fireplace and living room. Her mother was standing near her father, likely having a silent argument solely through stares. Once JJ’s mother caught sight of the two of you, she immediately made her way over.

“Jennifer! You look amazing, dear.” She rested her hands onto JJ’s shoulder, allowing herself to take a longer look.

JJ’s skin prickled; she could feel the judgment coming off of her mother in heatwaves. She felt as her mother’s eyes traced over every line and curve in her body, and she felt sick at the thought of ever even having curves.

“You know, Jennifer, this dress is actually really beautiful. It hugs your body in just the right way– I can finally see your beautiful hips!”

You felt JJ get stiff next to you, and you gripped her hand just a bit harder, a silent reminder that you, too, heard what she just said. “Thanks, mom.”

The words tasted like bile in her mouth.

“You know, you’ve always been so skinny. And you have such a beautiful figure! I always wondered when you’d grow into it, but it seems like you’re finally filling in! Be careful though,” she added with a smirk, leaning in to wink at her daughter. “You don’t wanna look like all those girls with the fake butts and hips.”

You looked over at JJ, giving her a what the fuck? look. You knew her mom was borderline abusive– that much was true, but it seemed as if she was trying to purposely trigger her. Your mind was racing, and you couldn’t even imagine what was going through your girlfriend’s.

The entire event was extremely uncomfortable and heartbreaking, but thankfully JJ had other family members that wanted to catch up with her. You mostly sat back and listened, trying to digest everything while also keeping an eye on JJ.

The memorial itself went smoothly up until dinner.

You were sitting next to JJ as she ate her pasta when you heard her mom speak up. “Jennifer, are you really gonna eat all that? I mean, pasta, it just– the carbs and the calories.. You’ve been doing so well with watching your food around us. Do you really wanna…” She trailed off for a moment, breaking eye contact with her daughter before frowning. She looked as if she were about to say something more, but shook her head as she decided against it.

You looked over at JJ, and it was as if you could hear the gears turning in her head. She was angry, that much was obvious. But she was also smart, and she needed to play it accordingly. It didn’t stop the whole situation from breaking your heart, though. You could hear the gears turning in her head, but you could also see the tears forming in her eyes.

The blonde sighed, giving in and looking up at her mother. She took the bait. “What, mom?”

Mrs. Jareau guiltily looked at her daughter for a short moment before speaking. “Well, you have gained a little bit of weight recently.”

“What the fuck?”

All heads turned to you, eyes bulging out of their sockets, watching your response. Your eyes widened in fear as you realized what you’d just said in front of your girlfriend’s family. You looked over at JJ, and she had the same expression in her eyes.

JJ scooted her chair out and stood up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

You quickly scrambled to your feet to follow your girlfriend down the hallway.

“Y/N, you don’t need to come with me,” she said as she walked.

“Yeah, like hell I’m letting you go into that bathroom alone.” A hand on her elbow stopped her in her tracks. “I know what you’re thinking. I know you, and I’m not gonna let it happen.”

JJ just glared at you.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked.

The older blonde let out a sigh before grabbing your hand and dragging you into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She stared at you, willing you to speak. You knew it was common for your girlfriend to shut down during uncomfortable situations. She had trouble speaking, even simply forming words. It was even worse when it came to her eating disorder, because her emotions almost always took over her rational thoughts, preventing her from clearly articulating her feelings. All her energy went into controlling her emotions; there was none left to form words.

You decided to break the silence with something lighter, not wanting to bring up exactly what her mother had said just yet. “JJ, I’m really sorry for what I said. I usually have such a good filter; I don’t know what happened…”

JJ smiled slightly, rubbing a hand up and down your shoulder. “I know. Neither of us were expecting her to say it so explicitly like that; it took us both by surprise.”

JJ always knew how to make you feel better. She was perfect like that.

“But, um..” You danced around on your feet, feeling a bit uncomfortable and out of place, not quite sure on how to lead into your next question. “Are you okay? Because what she said— it’s not okay.”

JJ’s smile faltered. “I’m okay.”

You tilted your head, giving her a warning look. “Really, JJ? I’ve known you for years; you could at least try to make your lies believable.”

The tall blonde frowned and looked down. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” you interrupted her, willing her to meet your eyes. Her head lifted a bit, and you took your chance. “I’m not mad at you. You don’t have to apologize; you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes trailed across hers as you observed her expressions, admiring the beautiful features that adorned her face. “It’s not your fault.”

JJ’s eye twitched slightly, and your stomach clenched in pain.

“None of this was your fault. What happened to you, to…” You trailed off, not wanting to bring up her sister while she was crying over her mom. Your voice hardened as you locked eyes with her, hoping she wouldn’t look away. “It wasn’t your fault, JJ.”

JJ blinked, looking down as a tear escaped her eyes. “I know.”

Your heart clenched as you listened. That didn’t sound like JJ. Not the JJ you knew. JJ was strong-willed and opinionated; the voice you heard was small and broken.

“But it feels like it is.”

The upset in your stomach was soon replaced with anger, and all you could think about was a ten year old JJ confused as to why she could only have one piece of chocolate per week. Fury, hatred, and rage soon followed, and the feelings festered in your gut, bubbling up and fizzling out every few minutes.

You knew it was only a matter of time before your usually-perfect filter went out the window completely.

You knew it was bound to happen. You just didn’t know when.

“JJ, I need to be completely honest. If we go back out there, I don’t know how much patience I’ll have.” You looked at her cautiously, monitoring her expressions for anything that could give away what she was feeling.

She gave you a small smile and squeezed your hand. “I know. I could see it happening earlier. But Y/N/N, seriously, you’re doing an amazing job. You don’t give yourself enough credit. I know you lost your patience earlier, but that’s a rare occasion.” She squinted her eyes a bit, thinking about what to say. “And this is also a very specific situation, so really, I wouldn’t say your reaction was… unwarranted,” she added. “You’re just protective of me.” She smiled. “And that’s okay.”

You grinned back at her.

“Ready to go back?” You asked as you took her hand.

“Yup,” she sighed, moving away from the counter. “Might as well.”

————

You and JJ hadn’t missed much; it was mainly still just the same group of relatives conversing with each other. Her mother was there, as well, obnoxiously laughing at a joke that seemed way too funny to be told by her father.

The two of you walked over to the living room, taking a seat next to each other on one of the couches and making small talk with some of JJ’s aunts and uncles.

It was interesting to see JJ interact with her family; they were all really sweet, for the most part. It seemed as if her mother was the outlier of the bunch, which both angered and confused you at the same time. You knew people’s filters deteriorated over time as they grew old and cared less about how they were perceived, but it was as if JJ’s mother never had one to begin with.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by a tight grip on your wrist, immediately swiveling your head to see what had happened.

JJ’s face was sheet white as she stared at the woman in front of her; you hadn’t heard what her mother said, but judging by the expression on your girlfriend’s face, it couldn’t have been good. Not that anything her mother said was ever really great, anyways.

“JJ?” You looked at your girlfriend, willing her to reply, but she wouldn’t break her gaze; she stayed staring directly in front of her.

You picked up on her energy fairly quickly; you knew if she tried to move or change her expression she’d likely breakdown, and there was nothing she wanted less than to have her family see her cry.

You stood up quickly, taking hold of JJ’s hand as she turned her gaze towards the ground, likely trying to keep her tears in.

“Jennifer, don’t ignore me.”

Her mother’s voice was warning, as if JJ were a child giving her the silent treatment.

“I can’t do this,” JJ whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You squeezed her hand before speaking, turning your gaze to her mother. “We’re leaving,” you said with a tight smile.

Her mother scoffed, looking you up and down as if you were nothing– just one of her daughter’s playthings.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Your skin prickled with the insult, and your grip on JJ’s hand grew even tighter. She turned to her daughter once again, willing her to speak. “I asked you a question, Jennifer, and you should really look at your mother when she’s speaking to you.”

You had to fight the urge to scoff at her mother talking about herself in third person; how dramatic could someone be?

JJ’s mother changed her stance to a more relaxed position, tilting her head to the side as she examined her daughter.

“Jennifer, how much do you weigh?”

“What?” The question almost knocked you over, taking you completely off guard.

JJ stiffened next to you and stood up straight, no doubt trying to make herself look thinner in the eyes of her mother. Mrs. Jareau ignored you and continued staring at her daughter, acting as if you weren’t even there.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

That got her attention. She whipped her head around to you, giving you another once-over before clicking her tongue. “Jennifer, wi–”

“No, seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you so out of touch with reality that you can’t see how much of an asshole you’re being?”

JJ looked over at you with a warning glance, the only acknowledgement that she’d heard you during this entire conversation.

“You think that just because you have issues with food you can just force it on your daughter? She was a child. You didn’t even give her a chance,” you accused, feeling yourself get more and more worked up.

“Y/N,” JJ warned, her voice deep and gravelly, the voice she used when you were speaking out of turn or going out of line.

“Oh, please,” her mother replied. “She doesn’t have issues with food; she has issues with discipline and self control. You think she would look like that if she had ‘issues with food’? Plenty of women are able to control their cravings; I know I can.”

You shook your head in disbelief as she spoke, in utter shock of the cognitive dissonance the woman had.

“And if you’re gonna talk about issues with food, it certainly would not be my daughter. You wanna talk about choices? There are thousands of girls with food issues; my daughter is not one of them. Those girls never even had a chance, but Jennifer did. She chose to be selfish over being healthy; there’s nothing wrong with pointing it out.”

JJ’s grip on your hand wasn’t even tight anymore; it was loose, as if she had given up, as if it was taking a significant amount of energy to even hold on. You knew she was exhausted, and you knew this was only making it worse.

“Didn’t have a chance? Didn’t have a chance? What the hell would you call JJ’s experience then– a choice? You think she just chose to stop eating out of nowhere? Where the hell do you think she learned it from? It sure wasn’t her friends. Her whole life has been about you; you and your desire to have the perfect daughter. You did that.

So maybe those other girls— Maybe they didn’t have a chance. But your daughter did, and you took that away from her. So while you wallow in your own puddle of self pity, maybe you should reflect on why she started restricting in the first place.”

You took a deep breath, trying to control your thoughts and calm yourself down.

Next thing you knew, an iron hard grip on your wrist was dragging you out the door. “What the hell was that?” JJ’s voice was low and demanding.

You just stared at her as if she’d asked one of the most obvious questions in the world. “What was what? You saw the way she was acting.”

“She was acting like that the entire time, Y/N,” she warned. “I’ve told you multiple times how she is; you’ve met her before. We literally talked earlier today about what to possibly expect from her.”

“JJ, your mom–”

“Right— my mom. Not yours,” JJ interrupted, eyes narrow.

You felt a ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

“I understand that you want to protect me, but this was not the time nor place. And quite frankly, it is not your place to speak on my ‘issues with food.’ You were out of line; you do not get to decide how or why I developed an eating disorder.”

Your heart dropped. She was right.

You bit your lip, looking down as tears formed in your eyes. You knew it wasn’t fair to cry, not right now, but it was becoming increasingly harder to control your emotions. You didn’t like upsetting JJ, and you knew speaking on her eating habits was out of line, especially because her mom had been doing it incessantly for years.

You coughed, trying to hide the hiccup that came with your tears. Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “You’re right. I’m sorry, JJ.”

You were still looking down, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

Next thing you knew, you were being pulled into her chest, engulfed in a hug as she held you close, swaying a bit as she tried to help you calm down. “I love you,” she whispered, keeping you attached to her. “I’m sorry for snapping.” Her voice was soft; it had returned to the usual loving tone she used with you.

You buried your face in her chest, gripping her jacket and holding her close.

“All you were doing was sticking up for me, I know. But baby, my mother is just… You can’t win with her. I know you wanted to help, but really, it wouldn’t have done anything.”

Your heart broke as she spoke those words, because you knew they were true.

“And Y/N, I really do appreciate it. I probably could’ve handled it better; I’m not used to people defending me like that, so it took me off guard.”

You were still wrapped up in her embrace, her hand on your head as she held you and continued to sway back and forth. “Also… I was absolutely terrified because I had no idea how my mom would respond. I’ve never said anything like that to her, so I couldn’t even imagine what would happen if someone she barely knew talked to her like that.”

You sniffled a bit, nodding your head as she explained herself. You pulled away, looking her in the eye for the first time since you’d left. “I really was just trying to help,” you said guiltily.

She gave you a sad smile. “I know, honey.”

You smiled back, reaching for her hand.

“I think it was a good idea we left our stuff in the car,” you said with a slight chuckle. She repeated the sound, taking your hand in hers. “There’s no way I’m going back in there.”

“Yeah, well don’t worry about that because I wouldn’t let you,” she joked, pulling on your hand as she began to walk to the car. “You and that mouth of yours.”

“Hey!” You protested, lightly hitting her on the arm. “I told you my filter could only last so long.”

She snorted, grinning as she walked around to the driver's side.

“You’re silly,” she said as you both took your seats.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you replied. “You love me.”

She grinned at you as she started the ignition. “Yeah, I do.”

——

a/n: hii i hope you guys enjoyed this <3 i wrote this like a year ago but never moved it from ao3 to here.

#jennifer jareau x reader #jj x reader #criminal minds x reader #jennifer jareau fluff #jennifer jareau angst

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veinsfullofstars · 2 months

Text

✨ May I interest you in some Dedede and Meta Knight as childhood friends? ✨

(ID: Kirby series fanart, Childhood Friends AU, of King Dedede and Meta Knight as kids interacting in various cute and wholesome scenarios, such as coloring, cloud-watching, sparring with sticks, overindulging on sweets, protecting each other from bullies, and more. Design-wise, young Dedede is short and chubby with a smaller beak and three feathers sticking up from the top of his head. He wears a pair of red overalls with gold buttons on the straps and a pocket on the front with a white two-finger peace sign. Young Meta Knight is maskless and similar in appearance to Kirby, save for his yellow eyes, dark blue complexion, and a pair of tiny wings on his back. Additional headcanons and worldbuilding for this AU under the cut. END ID.)

UPDATE 03/11/24: Added a scar to Meta's head. | UPDATE 04/24/24: Touched up a few headcanons below.

Started on 10/09/23, finished on 10/11/23. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 10/11/23.

—

-This AU primarily takes place within the Kirby gameverse (with a few superficial elements borrowed from external media), the timeline starting decades before the events of KDL and eventually catching up to and following the main games’ canon (with nods to side games and some unique events added here and there for character flavor). I am trying to stay canon-compliant, but I’m also kinda making things up as I go and changing them as needed, so no promises I won’t just go completely off the rails the more I workshop things, haha.

-I'm mostly going to leave ages nebulous in this AU, but - for clarity's sake - we'll say Dedede and Meta are both the equivalent of 7-to-11 years old here, though they first met a little earlier...

-Meta Knight is just called Meta for now - he won’t earn his title until after he starts his overstars military training with the Galaxy Soldier Army (GSA) in his late teens.

-That hammer belongs to Dedede’s mama - a former pro-wrestler - and will someday be passed down to him (once he’s strong enough to actually pick it up).

-The Star Warriors/GSA inclusion in this AU is more for flavor than any major role. In this version, they are basically an intergalactic military group fighting various forces of evil and providing relief-aid across the universe, their reputation generally positive thanks to a genuine effort on their part to balance acts of war and defense with acts of philanthropy, community assistance, and compassion, well-known enough to reach even distant Popstar. Any known Star Warriors - Sir Arthur, Sir Dragato, Kit Cosmos, etc. - are either long since passed on or retired somewhere outside of the story. Upon learning of the GSA, Meta becomes enamored with their deeds and longs to be a knight himself (not yet aware of the hardships involved in becoming one).

-The kids like to spar for fun in their free time, but on occasion they get proper training from Dedede’s papa - a retired knight with connections to the GSA who’d settled in Dream Land with his wife just before they had their only son. Meta looks up to him with the same admiration he has for the Star Warriors. Dedede, however, doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with his well-meaning but rather strict father.

-Meta is quite shy around people he doesn’t know well. In overwhelming situations, he tends to either shut down and go non-verbal or quietly slip away to recoup. That said, he is much more expressive around those he trusts, listening eagerly and chatting far more than he would otherwise.

-Dedede has an impulsive streak and likes to make wild plans that tend to put him and his buddies in precarious situations (when he can be bothered to actually follow through with them, that is). Meta is often the first to point out the flaws in his plans (if Para Dee doesn’t do it first) but inevitably ends up tagging along anyway, his wariness easily overturned by his curiosity.

-Meta is sometimes bullied by the bigger kids in the village due to his strange appearance and timid nature. Dedede is quick to step in and defend him, usually getting into scraps in the process. It will be a little while before either of them gain the respect of their peers…

#veins art #veins fanart #fanart #kirby series #kirby #king dedede #meta knight #star warriors #AU #childhood friends au #friendship #technically pre-relationship #but I'm gonna keep the tags platonic for now since they're still kids here #no weird gooey feelings yet #right now they're just a pair of good buds who really believe in each other #veinsfullofstars

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mangostarjam · 2 months

Text

terms of address — kaiju no. 8, fluff, "sweetheart" as a pet name, hoshina soshiro x female reader, 1.6k words — part two, part three

"What's wrong, my dear? You look kinda… stressed."

"Stressed? Stressed?" you repeat, turning your disbelieving gaze upon the Third Division's Vice Captain. Hoshina Soshiro is frowning slightly, a faint downward tick to his mouth that others probably wouldn't even notice, but you — you've been his operations manager for a few years now, and you've had plenty of time to learn his quirks.

"Yeesh, I was just askin'," Soshiro says, "what're you doin' up, anyway? Ain't it past your bedtime?"

"I could say the same to you," you point out. You watch as he slides his practice blades home, pretending not to notice the flex of his arms in his stupidly fitted training uniform. Sometimes you wonder if he got his clothes a size smaller with the way they seem molded to every ridge and curve of his muscles, and then you mentally smack yourself because you should not be paying attention to him like that. He's your Vice Captain and that's it. That has to be it.

"You just got discharged from the hospital. Rest is important!"

"I'm alright," Soshiro waves you off, but takes the towel you wordlessly hold out for him to wipe at the sweat dripping down his face. The training room is quiet except for the buzz of fluorescents above you and the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest. Your Vice Captain seems content to stand close as he wipes himself down, emanating heat as you try to shrink into your borrowed Defense Force jacket.

This was a mistake. You should've just walked past the door and ignored the light on underneath — but the distinct sound of blades slicing through air at high speeds made your ears perk up, and before you could tell yourself not to do something stupid — well, you're here now.

"I couldn't sleep."

Soshiro raises an eyebrow at your confession and hangs the towel around his neck. He's still standing way too close, but it's… comforting. Confusing. Another little piece of the mystery that is Hoshina Soshiro, who always has a grin on his face except for when he's taking down kaiju. Your Vice Captain, who's started standing closer to you than normal, and asking you about the books stacked in your dormitory, and brushing his hand along the back of your chair as you sit in it.

"Because of the stress?"

"Yeah," you frown, tilting your head up to look him in the eye. Sweat has dampened his purple hair into a darker shade, a deep pretty color that nearly seems black except for where the light glints off the strands. Man, you really must have it bad if you're starting to find his sweaty hair attractive. "So you should be good and quit stressing me out."

Soshiro grins abruptly, light and lopsided as he tilts his own head to look at you appraisingly. "You were stressin' about me?"

"Obviously," you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a subtle step back. He mirrors your step seemingly subconsciously, ducking his head to hide the pleased curl of his mouth before he arranges his features into something more familiar to you when he meets your eye again. "You're my Vice Captain, after all. And you know I hate when you land in the hospital. I hate… seeing you get hurt."

Too much — too close to a confession. But the night air is still and your little bubble feels warm and comfortable and secret.

"That's why I've gotta get stronger, my dear," Soshiro says pleasantly. You take another step backwards and your heel hits the wall a second before your back meets the cold metal. Soshiro leans forward, bracing a strong arm against the wall by your head. "Next time I'll wipe the damn floor with that kaiju."

"Of course you will," you flush in spite of yourself. He's standing really close, practically pinning you to the wall, and this is so not normal Vice-Captain-and-Operations-Manager behavior that your lightning fast brain feels like it's short circuiting.

He smells good. Like… cypress. Something woodsy and fresh. You take a deep breath.

The column of his throat works and you watch, mesmerized by the strong cut of his jaw and totally distracted.

"So didja want some help?"

"H-help? With what?" You risk a glance back up just in time to see his gaze drag down to your lips.

No. There's no way —

"I could tell ya bedtime stories."

The ends of his towel swing forward and rest against the zipper of your borrowed jacket and the swell of your chest. You can feel his breaths against your face, but he makes no move to get any closer. "I doubt you know any good ones."

Soshiro laughs. His forehead presses against your own for a moment as he chuckles, and when he pulls back a little the grin on his face makes you beam up at him, delight swooping through your stomach at making him laugh.

"I could tell you training stories, then," he suggests. "Like the time Okonogi thought —"

"Nothing with Okonogi," you interrupt, flushing again when he pauses to regard you. "I just — she —"

"What's the matter? I thought you two got along…?"

This is so embarrassing. You should've just kept your mouth shut, but now Soshiro is looking at you intently and you don't want to give him the wrong idea about your relationship with your superior but if you admit the truth… it's embarrassing.

"You…"

"Me?" Soshiro moves to pull away and you reach up to grip the end of his towel before he can get too far, dropping it immediately when he freezes in place. Fuck, you shouldn't have done that.

"Tell me," he says quietly. "What is it, my dear?"

Your heart clenches in your chest. "You call her that, too. Do you use that for all the female operations managers?"

His eyebrows draw together for a second in apparent confusion before his entire expression brightens and he laughs. "Just you two," he admits, reaching up with his free hand to grip the loose ends of your hair lightly. "Okonogi and I have worked together for a while. I respect her. And you. But… I can call you somethin' else, if you'd like. If I'm allowed."

Your face feels like it's on fire. You curl your fingers around the ends of your too-long sleeves. "You… you're the only one who's allowed. You know that."

Soshiro says your name. Watches your reaction with a focus usually reserved for fighting kaiju. Twirls the strands of your hair gently around his fingers. "Too soon? Let's get you to bed, then. It's gettin' late."

"B-bed? Hoshina-san, Vice Captain sir, that's not — we can't —"

"Aw, don't worry, ya dope. I'm just escortin' you. These halls ain't safe for a cutie like you this late at night," Soshiro says easily, finally moving away and taking all of his warmth with him. You squeak in surprise at his words and he tosses you a grin over his shoulder.

"Sir —"

"Play fair, sweetheart," Soshiro says. Cutie?? Sweetheart?? Those are new ones. You become suddenly aware of how your heart is beating rabbit-fast.

He grabs one of your hands and tugs you forward, his smile growing lopsided when you squeak again and stumble after him. "What're you gonna call me from now on, huh? Everyone calls me Vice Captain or sir. You'd better come up with somethin' special."

Your Vice Captain leads you out of the training room before your brain can catch up, his hand firm around yours. Rough callouses scratch at your skin, but you squeeze his hand the instant he starts to loosen his grip. Soshiro glances back at you with a smile that makes your heart do something concerning in your chest.

"Hoshina…kun," you test the honorific in your mouth, glancing up in time to catch the way his ears redden beneath his hair. "Can I call you Hoshina-kun?"

Soshiro clears his throat and keeps walking. "'Course, sweetheart. But maybe just when we're alone."

"Huh?"

"Can't have ya makin' me shy in front of the officers," Soshiro says, facing resolutely forward. "I'd lose all my authority."

Oh. Oh…?

"Okay… Hoshina-kun."

Soshiro makes a funny little coughing noise and stops abruptly, turning to rest his free hand on your head, forcing your gaze downward. "Alrighty, then, cutie, time to sleep! I'll see ya tomorrow mornin', hm?"

You nod, eyes closed, trying your best to memorize the weight of his palm. Soshiro drags his hand downward, cupping your face for a moment and sweeping his thumb along your cheekbone before dropping it entirely to tug at the collar of your jacket.

"Okie dokie, now get inside," Soshiro says lightly. You risk a glance up and valiantly try to suppress a shiver down your spine at the expression on his face. "It ain't fair to look so good wearin' my jacket, y'know."

"I — it was on the back of my chair and I was… cold…"

Soshiro grins. "I figured you were. That's why I left it for ya."

"Thanks, Vice Cap— Hoshina-kun," you murmur, reaching for the door to your dormitory. Warmth is settling deep in your chest. You really shouldn't be doing this — letting him hold your hand, shifting your relationship in another direction, following the beats of your heart as his smile softens and you take a tiny step closer to him. This is inappropriate and dangerous, but… it's Soshiro.

"You're going to sleep now too, right?" you ask. The hallway lights flicker and buzz as he leans forward, tugging you close by the collar of your (his) jacket until he can press his forehead against yours. Your eyelashes flutter shut as his breaths puff across your lips, but he simply takes a deep breath before pulling away. His hand is warm around yours.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

#hoshina x reader #x reader #kn8 fic #kaiju no. 8 fic #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #kaiju no. 8 writing #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #kaiju no 8 x reader #idk... what other tags to use #fuji writes fic

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Note

Good evening, I got another idea for your new event

Aces' older brother and grim interaction like "oh, Ace, how you got so tall— agh! It's not Ace" "oh? Oh. Oooh, hello. Isn't it that 'stupid raccoon' my lil' bro was talking about? " "HEY! Don't call THE great Grim raccoon! "

[Referencing this interaction!]

… I like how we’ve come to a silent consensus that Big Bro Trappola is just a taller version of Ace 😂

Fun fact: In the JP fandom, a lot of fans call Ace’s brother “Jack”, a reference to the character “Jack Hearts” from the Villain Recruiters group (part of Tokyo Disney Sea’s Halloween events).

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

You heard Grim's familiar shrill cries echo up from the bottom of a twisting stairwell. Peering down over the banister, you found an auburn-haired boy detaining Grim by the scruff, the poor little beast flailing for freedom. You called out to them as you jogged down the stairs, speaking a name you knew so well: Ace.

As you approached, a realization started to set in—that Ace was far taller than usual. But surely it was the same cheery troublemaker you'd always known. He had the same cheeky smile and bright eyes.

A growth spurt? Or had he defied Riddle's warnings to not eat the dubious mushrooms that grew in the Heartslabyul gardens?

Ace casually raised his free hand to wave as you descended. “Yo.”

“Hey!! Wow Ace, when did you get this tall?” you said teasingly.

The corner of his mouth lifted, amused. You noticed that he had parted his bangs today, and had drawn on his heart much smaller, more of an accessory than a statement piece.

“Well, you know how it is. A growing boy like me’s always got something up his sleeve.”

“M-Minion, there you are!!” Grim sputtered, aggressively kicking his furry feet midair. “Quick, after this imposter!”

“Imposter?”

“Don’t mind him. Little dude’s got his tail in a twist cuz I called him a raccoon.” A wicked grin crept onto Ace’s lips. It was easy and devil-may-care—and Ace was that devil. “Isn’t that right, ta-nu-ki-chan?”

He prodded Grim’s cheek with each singsong syllable. One, two, three, four… and Grim lost it.

“MYAAAH!!” He thrashed about wildly, swiping his paws at his just-out-of-reach captor. “I’m so MAD, I could spit!! When I get my paws on you, I’ll…!”

“Watch it, or you’ll set the whole dorm on fire,” you warned, “and then we’ll have an upset Riddle to deal with.”

“Who, the teapot tyrant? Isn’t he off sipping tea somewhere? I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“Ace!!” You gaped at him, eyes wide. “You talking about him is just going to make Riddle magically manifest to collar you again! It’s like the universe is out to get you at this point.”

“I’m cool with that. I doubt he’ll behead me anyway.”

“What makes you think he won’t?!”

Ace simply shrugged and wiggled his brows—as if daring you to guess. “Let’s just say I don’t think I’m the guy he’d be after,” he said mysteriously with a wink.

“AHHHHHHHH!!”

You startled at the scream that tore through the air. Your head whipped in the direction of it, expecting an enraged Riddle, face red and nostrils flaring, charging at you. Instead, the person scrambling over was…

“Ace?!”

You looked back at the young man holding onto Grim, then again at the one fast approaching. Side by side, the little differences between them came to light.

The taller Ace was sharper in every way—eyes, lips, face. His attire was far more casual than Riddle would allow for: an open vest, dress shirt undone a few buttons, a loose tie thrown over his shoulder. He had a relaxed maturity about him, as though Ace had been aged into some semblance of adulthood, but had maintained all of his wonder.

The imposter assumed a sheepish smirk. “‘Sup, lil’ bro?”

“Don’t ‘sup, lil’ bro me!!” Ace groaned, marching over to land a swift punch to his brother’s arm arm. “Dude, you can’t just ditch me to go screw with my friends! Only I'm allowed to do that!"

“My bad, my bad. I was just curious about what kinda people you hang around with.” His brother laughed, setting Grim back on the ground. You were quick to grab him before he circled around to attack the older Trappola’s pant leg.

“So,” Ace’s brother continued, his gaze trained on you and Grim, “you must be the ones that had Ace running to Sage’s Island over winter break. He was really worried when you got your SOS text. Basically broke his piggy bank to make sure he had enough allowance to take public transportation back to NRC.”

“Oh? Really? I had no idea he was so desperate to be my hero.”

“H-Hey, don’t listen to him! He’s blowing it out of proportion! I totally wasn’t that worried,” Ace protested. “Besides, if dummies like you and Deuce weren’t around… then school life would be so much more boring. A wellness check here or there’s fine, so lay off!”

His brother chuckled. Leaning into your ear, he murmured, “That’s how Ace shows that he cares.”

“Oi, what are you whispering about?!” Ace cried, elbowing his brother out of the way. “Stop gettin’ all chummy with MY friends and butt out. You’re supposed to be spending time with your family today anyway, so let’s get going!”

“What, I was just about to embarrass you by sharing stupid stories with them~”

“Like I’d like that happen!!” With a pout, Ace yanked on his brother’s arm. “Come on, you have adult stuff to do!!”

"Like you don’t have kid stuff to do?”

“I’m NOT a little kid anymore!”

“And I’m still young at heart.”

Stuck between the duo, you and Grim exchanged knowing glances.

“Those two… they really are alike, huh?”

“You know it, minion.”

#Ace Trappola #twst #twisted wonderland #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Grim #Reader #self insert #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #NRC Family Day #disney twisted wonderland

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storiesofsvu · 11 months

Text

Post Its

Tara Lewis x reader req'd by anon Warnings: language, some slight teasing, pure fluff. Tbh, it is a fcking crime that there isn't more Tara stuff out here, wtf? Send a req here! Sign up for her taglist here!

Tara loved you more than anything in the world, she had from practically the moment she’d met you. You were exactly the opposite of all the darkness that she saw on a regular basis working with the BAU and that was part of what drew her to you originally. You were soft, warm, colourful, her own personal ray of sunshine to come home to after a long dreary day. She knew part of that stemmed from the fact that you taught kindergarten, spending the days with tiny humans, you were always full of laughs, stories full of imagination and your sticker collection was far larger than she’d ever seen before.

She couldn’t help but smile when she’d catch you in moments of still very much being in teacher mode, as if you were talking to tiny humans instead of actual conversations. She’d once overheard you in the kitchen when a pot was boiling over say something along the lines of “oh come on now Mr. milk, that is not very smiley face sticker behaviour of you.” She chuckled but didn’t say anything, she found it endearing and adorable, not something to tease you about. It was just something that made her love you more, made her softer around you, able to finally embrace that side of herself knowing that you loved it as well.

Once the two of you moved in together it was pretty frequent that you’d pack lunches for the both of you to take to work. Tara hadn’t thought much of it, she usually bought lunch or they were on the jet by the time noon hit anyways, but you always brought your own, and made sure your classroom was stocked with extra snacks for kids who got hungry. So it just made sense for you to make double what you were making and pass the bag off to her with a gentle kiss on the way out the door. It started out as just food, though sometimes things were cut into cute shapes, sandwiches without crusts, little animal or frog skewers in the smaller pieces of fruit to use instead of forks.

“Awe, did your mom pack your lunch.” Luke teased with a smug grin one day and Tara simply snorted.

“Nah, you should know this by now, it was your mom.”

It was almost too easy to tease him back, and besides, he walked right into that one and he knew it.

That was when the rumours started that maybe Tara had a secret kid at home that no one knew about, hence why everything was kid accessible. The rumour lasted approximately ten weeks until she was invited out for post work drinks and she said she had somewhere important to be.

“I’m betting girl.” Spencer muttered and Luke laughed.

“Nah, I’ve seen dinosaurs in her lunches.”

“Girls can like dinosaurs too.” Garcia cut in with a huff and Tara raised a brow in their direction.

“This started out with me thinking you were trying to figure out my sexuality but you lost me at dinosaurs.”

“They think you have a kid.” Emily cut in dryly, already knowing the truth and Tara barked out a laugh.

“No, absolutely not. I have to get home because it’s my anniversary.” She shouldered her bag, “with my future wife, because I know you’ll spend another two months speculating that next.”

It was shortly after your wedding that the notes started. You and Tara had thoroughly enjoyed your three week honeymoon off in Italy. Nothing but time for each other, so much wine and more pasta than you could even imagine. While the transition back into work was relatively smooth for yourself, Tara found herself instantly thrown back into the world of darkness and back to back very jarring cases. You knew she was a little off when she came home absolutely defeated, forgoing dinner for a large glass of bourbon and latched onto you like a koala bear for as long as she possibly could before Monday rolled around. She accepted her lunch with a soft smile and a kiss, pausing to steal another one before you sent her on her way.

When she pulled her lunch out a yellow post it fell out of the bag, her brow furrowed when she went to pick it up, wondering if it was a work note she’d gotten stuck in there by accident or the label from someone else’s lunch in the fridge. Instead she found your writing scrawled across the front,

‘I love you so much, you are my sunshine.’ A large sun drawn in the corner with a huge smile and a pair of sunglasses. A couple of sparkly cloud stickers on it as well. She felt her shoulders drop as her entire body relaxed, releasing the tension of being back at work again and the small smile stayed on her cheeks for the rest of the day.

The next day she opened her lunch to find a slightly crushed chocolate chip muffin among her items, a pink post it with ‘You’re my stud muffin.’ Scrawled across it with a winky face and a print of your lipstick on the paper. She laughed silently, shaking her head at the way she could hear it in your voice. Opening the drawer of her desk she added the note to the little basket she had put the first one in, smiling softly down at them.

Two days later and she found an extra container of candy in her lunch, the post it note blocking the label, ‘You are one hot tamale.’ With a wink. She didn’t need to move the note to know what the candies were, but she still slipped it into the small growing pile in her desk drawer.

‘I know it’s cheesy, but I think you’re grate!’ Stuck to the outside of a cheese string. She audible laughed at this one, earning a raised brow from Spencer, but he didn’t say anything.

‘A list of cute things:

-you

-also you

-hey look, you!

-wait, wait, wait

-you!

-you’re cute’

‘Olive you’ with a drawing of two martini glasses complete with extra toothpicks of olives. (and a note on the back ‘seriously, don’t forget about drinks with the Tanners on Thursday’)

‘You are the sugar and spice of my life’

The notes weren’t every day, obviously if a case took her out of town for a week she wasn’t bringing that many packed lunches in one go. And she could tell that you usually did them the day after rough days, days when she needed a little uplifting, that you knew you would make her smile, if not laugh. Some of them were funny, some punny, and some just utterly adorable. It didn’t matter the theme, she saved every single one of them in her desk drawer, not quite able to part with them. And each day that you left a note, she would come with an even warmer smile than she left with, holding you a second longer when she greeted you, murmuring a soft I love you into your skin as she kissed you hello.

‘There is night so we can appreciate day, sorrow so we can appreciate joy, evil so we can appreciate well, you so I can appreciate love’

She felt the warmth blooming through her chest at that one, a little boost of how important she was to you on a day she was doubting herself.

‘The sound of your laughter is food for my spirit.’

‘I love you more than anything in the entire world. You are my rock, my sun, my moon and stars. You are the most snuggly teddy bear I’ve ever had in my bed, and without a doubt my absolute favourite. Can’t wait to see you, because that’s my favourite time of the day.’

It had been a rough couple of days and she almost felt tears building up in her eyes at that one. She quickly tucked it into her desk drawer and shook the feeling off, she had a reputation to uphold at the office after all. However the moment she was home she was sure to make you know just how much she loved you and how much she really did adore the lunch notes, even if you’d never actually talked about them. It was silent cues you took from each other about them, the way she had a little more pep in her step when she got home after you’d sent her one. And that was all you ever needed.

It was a few days later when Luke was looking over something for a case at her desk, Emily across at Spencer’s desk, eyes looking up at the white board trying to figure something out, Garcia perched on the edge of the desk. Luke let out a huff, recapping the highlighter in his hand before tossing it into the trash.

“Tara, you got a highlighter?”

“Yeah, top right.” She gestured to the drawer and turned back to Spencer as the two of them went through the geographical profile. A small chuckle broke out from behind them that she didn’t think anything of, probably some snarky remark from Penelope until she heard the shuffle of paper and Luke’s voice.

“The most snuggly teddy bear I’ve ever had in my bed… this is pure sap.”

“Oh, but she’s got puns too, look at this one.” Emily’s laughter was what broke Tara out of her trance when she finally turned around to see the three of them with the large array of colourful post it notes spread across her desk.

“Oh come on! That is not a highlighter!”

“Yeah, but it’s way more entertaining.” Luke replied with a smirk, reading off another one of the very sappy ones.

“I think it’s endearing.” Spencer, who had left her to join in on the fun chimed in, smiling brightly in her direction, “couples that continually do little things to keep each other’s spirits up are found to be much happier and have much more successful relationships.”

“Aweee, pookie bear.” Luke teased, “that your new code name?”

“I will shoot you right now.” Tara shot him the coldest glare.

“Does she come up with these on her own?” Penelope asked with a smile, “cause they are good!”

“I don’t know.” Tara replied with a shrug, “I’ve never asked her.”

“Are these what you’ve been smiling at in your lunch all the time?” Emily asked with a wild grin, holding up the stud muffin one and Tara let out a huff, rolling her eyes.

“Can we just stop this? Maybe focus on the task at hand?”

“Whatever you want pookie.” Luke made a kissy face in her direction and she hucked a white board marker at him.

It wasn’t that she was particularly embarrassed by it, but she was a little irked by them seeing all of them. Sure, they were all from you and they didn’t technically see how soft she got with you, but the façade was ruined. As much of a bad ass that she was in the field, she knew that nickname wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and almost instantly started planning her revenge against Luke. Garcia would help her, she knew that.

A couple of days later she was smiling at a pink post it;

‘You are the sun on a cold day, the crunchiest leaf on my walk to work, the first snowflake of the season to catch on my tongue, the first daisy to bloom come springtime. You are the light of my life. You are the small things that make every and each day the absolute best that it can, you are the only thing that can brighten me up no matter what. I love you.’

She pulled open her desk drawer to add it to the basket and her hand stalled in its tracks when she found the basket empty. She groaned, pinching at the bridge of her nose as disappointment surged through her. Despite her best efforts the team had insisted on going through every single note you’d left for her, she must’ve forgotten to put them back into the drawer before leaving for the day, the cleaners probably thought the pile was garbage. Letting out a soft sigh, she placed the new note into the basket, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to start over now.

You were in the kitchen when you heard the door open, Tara calling out to you while she clunked around a little more than usual in the entry way.

“Hey!”

“Hey! Hope you’re in the mood for lasagna!” You called back, wiping your hands on a dish towel before padding your way over to the entry way to greet her.

“Baby you really don’t have to slave way over a hot stove for me after you’ve finished a full day of work.”

“Babe, please. I picked up a frozen lasagna and garlic bread on the way home, the oven did all the work.” You laughed, cupping her face in your hands as you popped up on your toes to kiss her softly. When you pulled back you noticed the black frame under her arm, “what’s that? Did you get some kind of award you failed to mention?”

“No.” She laughed, nudging her go bag off her shoulder to its spot on the entry way bench, “the team may have found the collection of post its stashed in my desk.”

Your head tilted in that adorable way that she loved so much, “the lunch notes?”

“Yeah.”

“You kept those?” You practically melted, a happy and somehow dreamy pout on your lips as you gazed up at her with wide eyes and she couldn’t help but fall even more in love with you, her hand stroking your cheek before she leant in to leave a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Are you kidding me? As if I could ever throw them away! They were the second best part of my day.”

“Second?” You eyed her suspiciously for a moment before a grin broke out on your lips.

“Well the first is always coming home to you.”

“You fuckin’ teddy bear.”

“Yeah, and now the entire team knows it.” She rolled her eyes, “I guess after approximately one hour and forty two minutes of teasing they got scheming, but my money’s on this being Garcia’s idea.” She turned the frame on the table so you could actually see it, “she’s a bit of a sap and thought the notes were super cute, figured they’d be nice to have all together in one place we could actually admire instead of stashed away in my desk drawer.”

“Oh I knew I liked her.” Your fingers reached out, ghosting over the side of the frame, “this is so cute, and so thoughtful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.” You leant into her side, humming happily when she kissed your temple.

“Where do you think we should put it?”

“Hmm.” You tugged your lip into your mouth, glancing around, “the wall behind the couch is particularly bare.” You turned to her with a warm smile and a gleam in your eye, “then maybe… we should have your team over for drinks next weekend? It’s practically a crime that I’ve only met Emily so far.”

“I’d love that.” Tara smiled brightly at you, cupping your cheek as she leant down to place a tender kiss on your lips, “and I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

_______________

@mysticfalls01 @evilregal2002 @maybe-a-humanbean @alcabots @dextur @wchipxchipxp @m00nkn1ghts @daddy-heather-dunbar @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @prentiss-theorem m @unsubologyy @svushots @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @akingcalledkris @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 8 @kalixxa

#tara lewis #tara lewis x reader #criminal minds #tara lewis fluff #tara lewis fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fafic

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givemea-dam-break · 11 months

Note

Not a prompt unless you want it to be, but you’re the only one who will appreciate -

George/Reader (or OC) where Reader is a Database Analyst for Fittes. Enemies to lovers.

Reader dedicates her life to making information more accessible/understandable/traceable and George can begrudgingly accept that. They make appointments with each other to argue over the merits of digitization, tagging systems, etc and if these arguments spill over into meal times, maybe they grab a bite and keep arguing, and oh no does everyone think we’re dating??

Anyways <3

a/n: RAHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!! i know essentially nothing about technology though so i’ve probably butchered that part of this but i hope you enjoy!!! and thank you to @ikeasupremacy you really helped this go from a 2 page long flop that contained literally fuck all to a 5 page decent piece of work pahaha

warnings: mild language, mild angst words: 2.8K taglist: @neewtmas @locklylemybeloved @aayeroace @gotlostinfiction @waitingforthesunrise @mirrorballdickinson @mischiefmanaged71 @magicandmaybe @wellgoslowly @ettadear gn reader

Nice To Meet You - George Karim

“You know that, on the whole, this will make life way easier for you?”

“Since when do you want to make life easy for me?”

Taking an angry bite out of your sandwich, you say, “I’m not doing this specifically for you, twat. This is quite literally the purpose of my job, so it’s for everyone.”

George Karim sits back in his chair, glaring at you through the green reflections on his glasses. “And what exactly is the benefit of digitalising all of it?”

“Going over this again? Right, well, for one, there’s going to be new computers put into the Archives meaning more people can use them. Have I lost you yet? No? All right. For two, being able to search up what you want in a database is way easier than pacing for hours trying to find an old newspaper that someone might be using already. For three, multiple people can read the same file at the same time. You can’t do that with the musty old paper copies.”

There’s a moment of silence and an air of tension thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. The only sounds beyond George’s annoyed huffs of breath are the jingle of the café’s windchimes and chatter from other customers.

If you had your way, you wouldn’t even be sitting here discussing your plan of action with him, but your supervisor told you that you’d best talk about it to other agencies and their members to see what their thoughts are. Of course, the one time you head to Lockwood and Co. with the intention of speaking to them on purpose, hoping and praying you’d at least be speaking to Anthony Lockwood himself; you were sent off with his second and by far the most infuriating boy in all of London, George Karim. And, well, as you already know, he is a tough nut to crack.

“Why are you so stuck up on physical files, anyways?” you ask. “It’s not like we’re going to burn them on a pyre and force you to use a website. They’ll still be there. It just seems much more convenient to click a few buttons and have what you need.”

“They hold a particularly warm place in my heart,” he says with a hint of sarcasm. “But, fine, okay, life will be made easier for everybody with this new system. So why is it only being implemented now? Smaller agencies could’ve done with this years ago while Fittes and Rotwell and all the big companies have had it this whole time.”

Though you hate it, you can only shrug. “The big companies don’t want to have to compete with the smaller ones.”

“You’re saying this, but you’re working for Fittes, the biggest of the big companies.”

You grip your sandwich harder, pretending it’s George’s throat. “Yes, well, better pay than a smaller company. Some of us don’t get offered a bedroom when being accepted into a job. Besides, as much as I don’t like the big companies making a huge profit off of the Problem, I don’t have a choice. They’re the only ones with the resources I need. And, don’t forget, that’s where you used to work, too.”

Surprisingly, George doesn’t have a quip for that. He takes a thoughtful sip of his tea, glancing out of the café window and onto the busy street just beyond. The sunlight hits the lenses of his glasses in such a way that they shine a reflection down onto the table in front of you.

“So, this would be accessible for everyone?” he asks. “Not just the big agencies and their lackeys.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this to make you believe it, but yes. If that wasn’t the case, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Quite frankly, you’re not surprised about having to repeat things over and over. Every single conversation you’ve ever had with George, no matter how fleeting or filled with irritation, has seemed like he had the personal mission of finding flaws in everything you do. Holding your rapier wrong – you absolutely did not, if anything, he was holding his wrong. Pronouncing a word wrong once. Taking a moment longer than him to spell a ridiculously long word on a report.

Now is no different. It’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his mind, working overtime trying to find an issue with this plan. But there’s nothing, that much you know from you and your team’s extensive planning and the look of mild horror on his face.

You can’t help the proud smile that parts your lips. “Go on, then, Georgie. Thoughts?”

He gives you a scathing look that only fuels the pride burning in your chest. “I think…”

“Yes?”

“I think that…”

“Carry on. I need to hear you say it.”

“Oh, shut up. I think that it’s a good idea.”

“Hmm? What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

You’ve never seen such anger in a person’s eyes. “I think that it’s a good idea. Happy?”

“Very. That’s all I needed to hear.”

George opens his mouth to say something, probably something insulting, but a waitress breezes over. She’s a sweet middle-aged lady with a contagious smile that even has him easing up a bit.

With a twinkle in her warm eyes, she asks, “Is there anything else I can get the lovely couple?”

And that does it. If you weren’t so shocked yourself, the horrified expression on George’s face would’ve cracked you up. It looks as if someone stepped on his puppy and then tried to feed it to him. Then, amongst your own disgust, you realise that the expression is at the thought of dating you, and no matter the animosity the two of you share, you can’t help but be a little offended.

“Oh, uh, we’re not –“ You purse your lips. “Nothing else, thanks.”

She leaves momentarily, and your table lapses into an entirely uncomfortable silence. You can’t look at George. He can’t look at you. There’s a weird pit in your stomach. Nausea. Right? Because… Ew.

“I told you we shouldn’t have continued this conversation during my lunch break,” you grumble.

He hums in agreement, finding particular interest in his swirling tea. “We should probably go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, we’ve covered all bases. Of the plan, I mean. Not anything else. The plan. My job.”

But, even still, you’re both sitting. You’re not moving. Why? Maybe you’re paralysed with disgust. Maybe the mere thought of people thinking that the two of you are dating is debilitating. Maybe, maybe, maybe… You’re considering it?

God, no. That’s horrid to even think about.

“I, um, are you heading back to the Archives, too?” you ask.

George takes a moment to respond, as if lost in a daze. “Oh. Yeah – Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

As soon as you stand, George is on his feet, enough money slapped on the table for the two of you, and heading over to the exit. And, well, as much as you want to let him head off on his own, here comes that realisation that it’s a little insulting that he is the one trying to escape so quickly.

What a little prick.

You’re out of the door almost as soon as he is, insistent that you will be the one ahead. Yeah, sure, you’re heading to the same place and could try to be amenable, but will you? God, no. You want him to know that you can leave just as easily and are just as horrified by this prospect of a relationship as he is.

Why wouldn’t he want to date you? Beyond the constant arguments you have, you’ve always figured you’re a pretty decent person. Smart, but not arrogantly so. Friendly. Funny. Good company. Caring. What’s not to like? How dare he be disgusted!

But he seems just as determined to reach the Archives first. It’s only a few corners away, but it feels like a miles-long race between the two of you. But if the prize is your dignity, then to hell with the distance – you’d go actual miles to preserve that, especially against George.

It comes to a halt when you’re forced to wait at traffic lights, unable to even slip across the street before they change from red to green merely because of the amount of coincidentally flooding traffic.

For what feels like hours, you have to stand beside him, listening to him breathe and mutter and tut as if this is the biggest inconvenience in the world. Hey, if he didn’t think a relationship with you was such a horrible idea then this wouldn’t be taking place!

No matter that you think the exact same. You’re allowed to feel like that.

Do you feel like that?

The beeping of the pedestrian crossing jerks you from your thoughts, and you’re rushing across the street before you know it. And, oh, curse his long legs! He’s getting ahead of you.

There’s an anger building up in your chest now, one that probably isn’t fully justified. Perhaps it stems from deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy you’ve not had the mind to think about for a little while now. Or even just out of pure spite of George Karim that has been pulsing through your veins for years now. Why has it been there? Because of him. Because of his incessant need to find flaws in your work and you, and his need to huff at anything you say or do. Like your existence is a bother.

Either way, the anger forms words before you can think to dismantle them. “What’s your issue with me?”

George pauses, near the side of the pavement, with the Archives in clear view behind him. He’s frowning over back you, dark eyes narrowed and bouncing with golden sunlight. Why should someone that hates you so be complimented by the sun? It’s entirely unfair, especially when it’s only blinding you.

“What?”

You stop a foot or two in front of him, panting a little from walking so fast. “What exactly is your problem with me? What did I do to you? Because, far as I know, you’ve hated me ever since we first met.”

The words take a minute to process, and it looks as though he’s trying to figure out some hidden meaning behind them. There’s nothing hard about what you’ve asked. Nothing harder than admit you feel ashamed to have even asked it.

“I don’t –“ George’s frown only deepens, taking complete notice of the frustration on your face.

“Forget I asked,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. Stupid question anyways.”

But, when you start to walk away, a hand on your wrist stops you, pulling you back slightly. When you look back, George is there, hand wrapped around your arm and staring at it as if it isn’t his own skin on yours. You expect him to pull away, disgusted at the thought of touching you, but his grip only softens slightly.

“I don’t hate you,” he says.

Scoffing, you say, “Yeah, right, and I’m Penelope Fittes. Let go of me.”

And, to his merit, he does. But your feet aren’t cooperating. They won’t move. Why, why, why won’t they move?

“I’ve never hated you,” he murmurs. His gaze is fixed on yours, something you’ve always noticed he’s steered clear of doing, and you feel frozen under it. “Intimidated, yeah.”

“Intimidated?” You roll your eyes. “George, come on. I was trying to be serious, but you’re just making a joke of it.”

The look in his eyes at that moment is a mix of desperation and exasperation. “I am being serious. Do you know how hard it is to be regarded as the smartest person someone’s met, to rely on the intelligence as your only form of worth to people, and then find someone smarter than you?”

Words try to form in your throat, only to crumble like chalk beneath too-strong fingers.

“And I’m sorry it’s made me lash out at you,” he continues. “I know it’s a horrible thing to do, but it’s like my mouth doesn’t want to cooperate with my brain. Truly, I regret how I’ve treated you. You’ve never deserved it.”

Your throat feels thick, and it’s hard to swallow. “Georgie, don’t lie.”

There’s a flicker of a smile on his lips then. “You know I like it when you call me that?”

“You told me you hated it when I call you Georgie,” you say, but it feels like your voice is dwindling.

“I told you that so you’d call me it more,” he admits. “(name), I really, truly have never hated you. And, again, I am so sorry I’ve treated you the way I have. I admire your intelligence and your insistence of sticking up for yourself. I just wish I had started things differently between us.”

The anger is back, burning a hole in your chest. “You’ve had years to tell me this. Why? Why didn’t you?”

He’s breathing rather heavily. “I was scared. I was trying to figure things out – my feelings, your feelings. But, more than anything, I couldn’t bring myself to change from the person you’d begun to see, because what if you hated the real me more than this one you know so well?” Now, his eyes tear away from yours as he stares up at the sky, looking for guidance from some divine being. “Even when you insulted me, I enjoyed it because it was from you. How lucky was I to even be able to speak to you, never mind hear you come up with all these unique names? There are millions of people who have never heard you speak, who have never had the pleasure of speaking to you or will never have it again, and I didn’t even want to chance becoming one of them.”

With that, the flames roaring inside your chest are extinguished. Instead, now, there’s a strange, unfamiliar feeling in your stomach that inches its way up your body and into your mouth, holding your tongue and stopping your ability to speak.

Despite all the quips, the need to find faults in what you do, he has never meant it. How horrible does that make you, saying all of these things to him because that was how you genuinely felt?

Do they count, seeing as they were formed on the basis of a personality that doesn’t truly exist?

Your fingers hurt from tearing at the skin around your nails. “You really think I’m so bad that I wouldn’t like the real you? Georgie, there is no way I wouldn’t have preferred it.”

He laughs at that, and the sound only bolsters this strange feeling in your stomach. Not quite butterflies, but almost. More melancholic. Could you have had the opportunity to hear that laugh for years now? To cherish it the way a person does a memory? The way an artist does a creation?

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you how sorry I am,” he says, and you swear he inches slightly closer. “About the way I acted. The fact it’s taken me this long to admit this to you. All of it. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

And you don’t. Not really. Not when it’s left a hollow feeling in your chest, left by the realisation that everything you said was unfounded and cruel and based on a person you had no true conception of. Not when this is how it has been for years between you both. Weeks, you could understand. But years?

There’s a part of you, though, that could potentially forgive him, given the chance. George may be quick to criticise or provide information for something, but he has always kept his emotions at arm’s length, that much even you know. So, for him to come and outright tell you all of this takes insane courage.

Even still, you can’t fully comprehend it all.

“Well,” you say, “you paid for my lunch. So that’s a start.”

He smiles then. A flash of white teeth and an insurgence of unfamiliar fondness in your heart.

“We could restart,” he suggests, pushing his glasses up his nose just so.

Despite the hollowness, you nod and manage a small smile. “I’d like that.”

Not even a second later, his hand is hovering in the air just between you both. “George Karim. Nice to meet you.”

It shouldn’t make your smile grow, it really shouldn’t, but it does.

“(name) (last name),” you say, clutching his hand in yours. “Nice to meet you, too.”

And, somehow, that smile of his, one you’re sure you’ll grow more accustomed to, adds a small piece of filling to the hole in your chest.

#george karim x reader #george karim fanfiction #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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kaoharu · 25 days

Text

hello friends welcome to my milgram outfit observations 👍 im your host yves and im a totally seasoned clothing analyzer

anyways onto the observations themselves warning for incoming long post cause im a rambler o7

tagging @urrvw & @monopoisonous ^–^ !!! hi guys

alrighty now then as you can see in the newest milgram art, all the male prisoners seem to be wearing the Exact Same suit at first glance however there are some stark but also miniscule differences in both the type of suit and style of the outfits as a whole on each of them ( at least to me anyways )

some of the more noticeable parts of the suits that are different for each would be the pockets , buttons , and vents while some smaller things wld be the lapels , shoulders , seams , and collar type + tie as well as shoes

( i drew up a helpful graphic for the suit jacket parts for your convenience using fuuta as an example since we can see the most of his suit 👍👍 )

— MIKOTO

so based off the details we can see of mikotos jacket, he is Most Likely wearing some variation of a two / three buttoned single breasted notched or closing front lapel sports jacket or blazer with flap pockets. he also has front darts ( front seams ) going up the whole front of his jacket, as opposed to the side seams i highlighted on fuuta's jacket

his jacket also appeared to be a fitted silhouette as the shoulders are sligjtly defines and lifts slightly up, unlike a structures or sack jacket. as for his shirt, he seems to be wearing some type of cutaway collared shirt with a four in hand knot tie ( its very hard to tell to be honest im guessing on the general size of the knot ) his collar is neatly done and more reminiscent to how an office worker might wear theirs

finally we have his shoes, seemingly very similar to harukas, but i believe they are plain toe derby loafers since the shape is more rounded than it is sharp like a wingtip

— KAZUI

next we have kazui who im guessing is wearing two button single notched lapel suit with jetted pockets. the jacket is prob a fitted silouhette as it goes across the shoulders in a relatively straight line but kinda ? showing off his shoulders in a way. i believe he has side seams as well if you look closely to his shoulder not being covered by the bouquet 👍

his shirt seems to be a (semi)spread collared shirt with a (?) half windsor knot <- once again its hard to tell really 🤷‍♀️ then unlike all the other dudes, kazui actually has a suitvest underneath his jacket this is usually only done for formal events such as weddings, galas, or high profile business meetings . . . his collar is neat and closed tho not as much as shidous

then we have his shoes, which i think are cap toe derby loafers, his shoes are very similar to shidou, like how mikoto and haruka had similar ones, but the overall shape of kazui's shoe suggest a more casual derby rather than an oxford

— SHIDOU

shidou has a six buttoned double breasted notched lapel blazer jacket with jetted pockets. the jacket seems to be a structured sihoulette since the shoulders go pretty much straight across rather than dipping at all. he also appears to have front darts starting from his breast pocket, tho it doesnt span the whole front like mikoto

his shirt wld appear to be either a classic or spread collared shirt and an oriental tie / simple knot 👍 this a knot that is often done by wives for their husbands iirc . hrm !! his collar is completely closed as well

and like i mentioned in kazuis section, i believe shidou has cap toe oxford. these are often seen and worn in mainly formal settings

— FUUTA

fuuta has a two buttoned single breasted notched lapel blazer jacket with flap pockets. it would also appear that it has a fitted silhouette, and as pointed out in the graphic i drew he has side seams running from around the underarms to the bottom of the jacket

his shirt underneath is most likely a full cutaway w a four in hand knot ? its tied rather loosely compared to the other tho as uu can see his collar is more open than kazuis

fuuta is so silly cause he has pennyloafers ( i love these shoes btw theyre basically slip ons and once broken in theyre very comfy in my experience 👍 anyways tho ) these are often worn in business casual setting

— HARUKA

haruka has a three buttoned single breasted notched lapel sports jacket with flap pockets, tho he has a noticeable lack of seams that are used to fit the jacket on a perskn better. this makes the jacket look slightly ill fitted to him but it cld also be intentional as the shoulders imply that its a sack silhouette type

as for his collar, it looks most similar to a classic one w a kelvin knot, done a bit looser than normal but still tighter than fuutas tie

finally, im pretty sure haruka has wingtip derby loafers, as mentioned in fuutas section, as overall design of the shoe is similar to fuuta but the tipe is slightly more pointed looking

aaaaand thats pretty much it ❓️ i dont have any connections to make so yepp . . . sorry these got shorter and shorter LOL

#✧ chatting !#wahoooo my singular contribution to the milgram fandom #no maintagging for me. feel free to maintag addons tho mutuals #idk if that works for reblogs but yeag

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gremoria411 · 1 month

Text

How to get into Gundam

Because fuck it, I was gonna do one of these sooner or later anyway.

So you want to know what this Gundam thing’s about, maybe you like the mecha design, maybe you caught part of an episode one time and want to catch up, or maybe you saw a nice piece of Chamuro fanart and want to go to the source.

But there’s so many shows and timelines that it can be quite daunting on first look, so this guide is intended to give a rough overview.

I would however like to stress two four things beforehand however:

This guide is not intended as “The One True Way” or anything. There’s no harm it coming into it a different way, and these are only my own opinions.

There’s nothing stopping you from just watching one show and leaving it there. You don’t have to watch every single show going, even I’ve only seen most of these, not all. Gundam typically has variations on similar themes - it’s very nice watching multiple shows because they complement one another, but it’s not necessarily required.

I am very much an insider looking out here, so let me know if there’s any details I’ve missed.

I’m not gonna recommend these on a “if you like X, then watch Y basis”, mostly because I don’t personally find genre recommendations helpful, so I’d recommend picking based on promotional material (vibes, if you will).

I’ll be using this chart, supplied by the excellent@l-crimson-l, to illustrate everything.

Gundam as a whole can principally be divided into three sections: Universal Century (or UC), the Alternate Universes (AU’s) and the Build Series.

The AU’s are below the light blue line, near the bottom of the Chart, the Build Series is within the bright green line at the top-right corner of the chart and UC is the big line in the middle. We’ll talk about each of them individually.

The AU’s

The Alternate Universes were conceived as a way to get away from the continuity-heavy nature of Universal Century and provide an easy jumping-on point for new fans. The AU’s are standalone and require no prior knowledge, and are thus an excellent place to start. Honestly, I’d recommend quickly searching some promotional materials (like posters) and just going with the one you find most appealing based on that. They are (in production order):

Mobile Fighter G Gundam (1994)

New Mobile Report Gundam Wing (1995)

After War Gundam X (1996)

Turn A Gundam (1999)

Mobile Suit Gundam SEED (2002)

Mobile Suit Gundam 00 (2007)

Mobile Suit Gundam AGE (2011)

Gundam: Reconguista in G (2014)

Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron Blooded Orphans (2015)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury (2022)

There’s side series and movies and other things besides, but these are the mainline shows, if you will. I have specific notes on a few of them:

Witch From Mercury - It’s of a shorter length than is usual for mainline shows, so consequently it’s a much smaller time investment than the others.

Mobile Fighter G Gundam - While undeniably rad as hell, I would recommend watching another AU first. G Gundam differs from its stablemates in a few key areas, and I find it helps to have a contrast to fully appreciate those differences.

Gundam AGE - is probably the only one I wouldn’t recommend. I didn’t like the art style and the technical explanations just got on my nerves, so I stopped watching.

Turn A and G-Reconguista are technically part of UC as well, but it’s not really crucial information so don’t feel like you have to watch UC first (I’m only including this detail for completionism).

I’ve found all the AU’s I’ve seen to be pretty good, so I’d say that which one you start with really just comes down to personal taste.

The Build Series

Is just kind of doing its own thing. The Build series is basically Buy Our Toys: the series. It’s got a far lighter tone, and I’ve had cause to compare it to pokemon prior. It’s also chock full of references and in-jokes to the other series.

Build Fighters and Build Fighters Try are the ones I’d recommend - they’ve got actual stakes and the fight scenes are really good.

Build Divers and Build Divers Re:rise I can’t recommend - I just find Build Divers aggressively boring. Build Divers Re:Rise is just okay - neither standout good or particularly bad. Its main flaw is that it’s a sequel to Build Divers.

The OVA’s are pretty much bad across the board - I’d particularly recommend avoiding Gundam Build Metaverse.

Universal Century

Universal Century is the big main timeline of Gundam, and is the timeline the original Mobile Suit Gundam from 1979 takes place in. There’s a tendency among certain fans to place UC as the one-above-all of Gundam, but I wouldn’t really go that far. It’s all pretty good, but I wouldnt really say one timeline is better than another (save personal preference, anyway).

Because UC is so big, it can be subdivided a couple times. The primary division is “Mainline” UC versus everything else. Basically there’s four-five shows in Universal Century from which everything else flows. As long as you know roughly what happens in these shows, then you can watch basically anything else in UC and have a good idea of what’s going on. These are (in order):

Mobile Suit Gundam (1979) - sometimes called Mobile Suit Gundam 0079.

Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam (1985)

Mobile Suit Gundam ZZ (1986)

Mobile Suit Gundam: Char’s Counterattack (1988)

With Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn (2010) as a nominal fifth (honestly I feel like you could argue either way).

The rest of the shows are:

Mobile Suit Gundam 0080: War in the Pocket (1989 Three-Episode OVA)

Mobile Suit Gundam F91 (1991 Movie)

Mobile Suit Gundam 0083: Stardust Memory (1991 Thirteen-episode OVA)

Mobile Suit Victory Gundam (1993)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team (1999 Twelve-episode OVA)

G-Saviour (2000 Live Action Movie) - nobody ever talks about or acknowledges this one, it’s just here for completionism.

Mobile Suit Gundam MS Igloo (2004-2009 Three OVA’s with three Episodes each)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin (2015 Six-Episode OVA, adapted from the Manga of the same name)

Mobile Suit Gundam Thunderbolt (2015 Eight-Episode Series, adapted from the Manga of the same name)

Mobile Suit Gundam: Twilight Axis (2017 episode, adapted from a light novel of the same name. Later rereleased as Gundam Twilight Axis Red Trace, with additional footage)

Mobile Suit Gundam Narrative (2018 sequel movie to Gundam Unicorn)

Mobile Suit Gundam Hathaway (2021 ongoing movie series, very much adapted from the novel Hathaway’s Flash)

Most of the other series relate to events in the aforementioned “mainline” shows in some way, but a lot of the sidestories set during the One Year War require very little introduction (Thunderbolt, 0080 and 08th MS Team). Similarly, works set in “Late UC” (F91 and Victory Gundam) carry on from the other series thematically but don’t have any plot connections, so they can all be watched without any background knowledge of the rest of the Universal Century.

Compilation Movies

Just a quick note here - many of the Gundam series have compilation movies, where either a whole series or part of one are compressed down into a movie. While each movie compares differently, they usually boil down to this: Compilation Movies usually have worse pacing, but really nice animation.

One of the great things about Gundam is that different shows offer variations on themes, so seeing how different characters react to similar situations, or how different settings change their approaches can make it incredibly rewarding.

I haven’t seen enough of SD Gundam to make any sort of recommendations there, and Manga is something I might touch on another day.

EDIT: Oh hey also: You can watch a good chunk of these on YouTube, for free, officially. The Official Gundam.Info YouTube channel rotates the series shown on its channel periodically. I think it’s got F91 and SEED on there currently? But it’s had Wing, 00 and Witch From Mercury before. Also all of the Build Fighters series are there.

So yeah, that’s a thing.

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ziptiesnfries · 4 months

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Persuasion, part 1

(Loosely based off of this post by @whumpshaped)

CWs: mind control, whumper POV, kidnapping, restraints

Everyone loved Gianna Jennings. Her friends said she gave the best hugs. Her fans adored her makeup tutorials, and even her most vocal critics had to agree that she was charming in person. Gianna wasn’t sure how old she was when she first noticed it—really noticed it. All her life, her family had adored her, and even strangers would bend over backwards to please her. She’d always been affectionate, so maybe that was why it took so long to notice: it was her touch. Any skin-to-skin contact made the people around her much more agreeable. The effects only intensified the more she learned to control it.

Of course, she never let it get out of hand. But what was a talent like this for if not to be used? It served her well with getting sponsorships when she launched her career as a beauty guru. Most of her job happened online, but after years of building up her charisma, she knew how to work her audience. She didn’t need touch to draw people in, but when it came to in-person contact, it certainly gave her a boost.

Having the whole world at her fingertips was lovely, but it wasn’t very exciting. She wondered what it would feel like to make someone hate her—really, truly hate her—and what would happen if, then, she used her powers on them. The thought of it was more than a little alluring. It sounded complicated, interesting, real.

She decided to go hunting.

After visiting the same club a few weekends in a row, Gianna had finally found her target. They were smaller than Gianna, and always wore short skirts and tank tops—the kind of outfit that would give her ample opportunity to use her powers. Every weekend, without fail, the target arrived at the club with the same group of friends and spent the entire time sitting in a corner, texting. They seemed utterly disinterested in everything around them, even their friends—although, given the interactions she’d seen, Gianna was hesitant to label them as friends. Others who tried to approach the target had been met with either apathy or outright hostility.

They were perfect.

Gianna had already been at the club for an hour, chatting people up, when her target slouched in behind their usual group of three others. One of them, a tall girl with long brown hair, looked similar enough to be related to the target—a sister, maybe a cousin—and she interacted with them the most. The other two, another girl and a boy, hardly spoke to the target at all.

Gianna watched as the group claimed a table, and the boy went off to the bar. The two girls sat next to each other, chatting and laughing. The target was already slumped down in their chair, eyes glued to their phone, their bleached bangs obscuring half their face. When the boy came back with the drinks, he only brought three, depositing two in front of the girls and one in front of himself. The target didn’t seem to notice or care.

Gianna kept an eye out as she circled the room. The three friends took a while to drain their drinks before they finally headed for the dance floor. The brown haired girl hung back for a moment, tugging at the target’s arm. The target yanked away, and although Gianna couldn’t hear across the club, it looked like they’d snapped at the girl. The girl stormed off, and the target was left alone.

Gianna took her time, idly circling the club before she sidled up to the target’s table. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?”

They gave no indication that they’d heard her. The blue glow from their screen reflected in their bored eyes and highlighted glitter on their cheekbones. She could just barely hear their response over the music. “Who said I was trying to be?”

Instinctively, her wrist twitched to touch their shoulder, but she lowered her hand quickly. She was wearing lacy, elbow-length gloves to ensure that there weren’t any slip-ups. She didn’t want to use her powers—not yet, anyway. She laughed. “That’s cute.” She leaned on the table, tilting her head. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

The target’s eyes flicked up. They scanned her face for a moment before turning back to their phone.

“I’m Gianna.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Really, though, what’s someone as pretty as you doing by yourself?”

Finally, they lowered their phone and gave her an exaggerated eye-roll. “None of your business,” they said, enunciating each word.

It was like talking to a brick wall. Gianna could see why everyone who had spoken to them had given up. Even she was tempted to take off her glove and touch their hand, just to get them to open up a little. But she refrained; the whole point was for them to hate her, and it seemed like that was going well. She pouted. “Oh, come on. You don’t even have a drink. I’ll get you one, okay?”

As she headed for the bar, she thought she heard them mutter, “Don’t come back.” She grinned to herself. She couldn’t have chosen a better target.

When she returned, they hadn’t moved an inch. She slid their glass across the table, and they kept texting. “I don’t drink,” they said.

“It’s seltzer.” It wasn’t, and they’d know right away if they took a sip, but they didn’t even glance at the glass. She stirred her own drink with her finger and wondered how to provoke them. Clearly they weren’t interested in playing her game, and that was what she’d expected, but she needed the tables to turn in her favor a little if she wanted to take them home tonight.

“Don’t care,” they said dismissively. “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

“That’s smart.” She smiled and rested her chin in her hand as she leaned forward. “But I think you deserve to have some fun. Don’t you?”

They shot her a scathing side-eye. “I’d be having a lot more fun if you weren’t—”

“Oh my god, Shelby!”

Their head jerked up, and Gianna turned to see the brown-haired girl from earlier approaching the table, her two friends in tow. All of them looked tipsy, but the brown-haired girl seemed just a tad more wasted than the others, casually gripping the table for balance. Gianna suppressed a grin as she turned to her target. “Friends of yours?” she asked innocently.

The girl didn’t seem to hear her. “Oh my god, Shelby,” she repeated, turning to the target. “Are you actually talking to someone for once? I never thought you’d—”

“Shut up,” they hissed, lowering their phone into their lap as they glared at the girl. “I’m not—”

“We were just having a little chat,” Gianna interrupted. She extended a hand over the table. “I’m Gianna.”

The girl shook her hand limply. “I’m Taylor.” She was talking too loud, even for the background noise of the club. “And that’s Anna and Tate. And of course you know my baby sibling, Shelby.” She squeezed their shoulder.

Shelby jerked away, their elbow missing their untouched drink by an inch. “Fuck off!”

Taylor pouted at them sarcastically. “Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?” She shot Gianna a suggestive grin.

“I said, fuck off!” They crossed their arms, their phone clutched tightly in their hand. “Can we just go already?”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “We just got here. Why don’t you go home with someone else for once? Loosen up, have a little fun!”

Shelby’s arms tightened around their chest, and they opened their mouth to protest. “I’d be more than happy to help with that,” Gianna cut in.

Blush rose to Shelby’s face. “Yeah, I’m sure you fucking would.” Their chair nearly toppled as they got to their feet. “Whatever, I’m calling an Uber.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “You’re such a killjoy.” They didn’t dignify her with a response before storming off across the club.

Taylor didn’t seem keen to go after her, and the other two hung back, exchanging uncomfortable glances. Gianna gave them all a sympathetic smile before she turned to pursue her prey.

She found Shelby near the entrance, tapping furiously at their phone screen. “Hey,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the noise. They stiffened, but they didn’t turn toward her. “I’m sorry if I was being too forward. Do you need a ride home?”

Their back was still turned, but she heard them snort. “Like that’s not the most forward thing I’ve ever heard. I’ll take an Uber, thanks.”

She approached casually, sliding an arm around their shoulders. They stiffened as she leaned in close and murmured, “Come on, let me drive you home. It’s the least I can do.”

Her lips brushed their ear, and that was all it took. The tension melted out of their shoulders, their phone lowering. They were quiet for a moment before they cleared their throat. “I … guess you could take me halfway there?”

She squeezed their shoulder before letting go. They’d feel the effects of her touch for another few minutes, and she’d sneak in another dose along the way. Of course, she’d prefer not to use it at all, but Shelby was a difficult target. A little persuasion would be necessary. “I’d be glad to,” she murmured.

Gianna took off her gloves to drive. Shelby was quiet in the passenger seat, their face turned out the window, their phone all but forgotten in their lap. “What’s your address?” she asked.

They didn’t turn their head, but their voice still sounded a little distant as they said, “You can drop me off at the corner of Fourth and Fremont. I’ll give you directions.”

“Oh, no worries. I know where that is.” Her house was that way, anyway—just a little farther down. Maybe Shelby actually lived near her; that was an interesting thought. “I really am sorry about earlier, by the way,” she added. “I know I can be a little pushy. And your sister … well, she didn’t seem very nice.”

They blew out a sigh that lifted their bleached bangs, propping their chin in their hand. “Fucking tell me about it. She’s a real asshole sometimes.”

Gianna suppressed a grin. “Oh? What’s she like?”

“She thinks I should worship the ground she walks on just because she’s letting me live with her.” They rolled their eyes. “I’d appreciate the favor more if it didn’t come with so many fucking strings attached.” They cut off abruptly and glanced at Gianna. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

“That’s alright.” The car was rapidly approaching the corner Shelby wanted to be dropped at. Gianna leaned over and laid a hand on Shelby’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of her power flow through her palm. “Are you sure you want to go home, then? Maybe it would be nice to spend a night away from her. She sounds so overbearing.”

When she glanced over, Shelby’s lips were parted, their eyes halfway glazed as they gazed out the windshield. “I, um …” Gianna removed her hand, allowing the poor thing to think a little more easily. They blinked hard a few times. “She is overbearing,” they admitted.

Giddiness rose up in Gianna’s chest, but she couldn’t let it show. She rarely allowed herself to play with people like this, but god, it was fun. “Well,” she said, in her best logical, concerned tone, “take a break from her, then. It’ll be good for you.”

The intersection passed by, and Shelby blinked again as they realized. “Where are you …?”

“You can stay the night in my guest bedroom.” Gianna’s voice was pleasant and soothing, trained to perfection. Her powers may have only worked through touch, but people always responded well to her words, too. “You won’t have to see your sister again tonight.”

“Alright,” Shelby agreed quietly. Their hands rested in their lap, their eyes forward. “Thanks.” Gianna smiled.

It didn’t take much longer to get to Gianna’s house, a quaint two-story home in a quiet neighborhood. It was a bit big for one person, but Gianna had always liked it, and the extra space came in handy for guests. Shelby was quiet and pliant as Gianna led them inside, a gentle hand between their shoulder blades. The lightest touch was enough to keep them relaxed all the way up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.

Once they were in the room, Shelby paused, trying to gather their wits. “Ah … thanks for letting me stay over.”

“Of course.” Gianna smiled, her heart thumping. “Could you come in here with me for a moment?” She nodded toward the guest bathroom, attached at one end of the room.

They looked confused, but with her thumb rubbing circles between their shoulder blades, they followed her into the bathroom. She flicked on the lights and casually grabbed the pair of handcuffs she’d left on the counter earlier. Shelby looked even more confused at the clink of metal, and when they spotted the cuffs, they stiffened.

They made to pull away, but Gianna grabbed their wrist, channeling her power into the touch. Their phone cracked against the floor as they dropped it. “It’s okay,” she murmured, like she was soothing a frightened animal. Her heart pounded. She’d never done this before—never tried to calm someone over anything truly objectionable. She wasn’t even sure whether it would work. Shelby’s wide, fearful eyes flicked from the handcuffs to Gianna’s face, and she smiled at them reassuringly as she gripped their wrist. “It’s alright; you’re okay.”

Their mouth was agape, struggling to protest, but their body was like putty in her hands. One cuff clicked around their wrist, and Gianna gently guided them closer to the towel bar before looping the chain around and securing their other wrist.

“Good.” She removed her hands and stepped back to admire them, feeling giddy that it had actually worked. They twisted their neck after her, their lips still slightly parted, distress in their eyes. She scooped their cracked phone off the ground and smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” Their bewildered gaze followed her as she shut them in the bathroom to wait for the effects to wear off.

Read part 2 here

#whump writing #whump #mind control whump #kidnapping whump #whumper pov #restrained #kidnapping tw #oc: gianna jennings #oc: shelby #zipwrites #y'all i'm having SO much fun with this one

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lwh-writing · 1 year

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I was just contemplating Fullmetal Alchemist (as one does), thinking about the absolute peak hilarity that is Ed, Al, and Havoc, the certified Country Boys(TM), teaming up to bully Mustang, the certified City Boy(TM), when I was struck with an epiphany.

Riza Hawkeye is the OG Country Girl.

Like....

Lived in the middle of nowhere with her father in a 1900ish setting. In THAT time period and THAT location, she and Hawkeye Sr. would've had to have at least a homestead type of deal. Something small that they could work on and live off of on their own, unless they hired farmhands (which I doubt).

So a two-person homestead. I would love to claim they cultivated dairy to go with Arakawa's background, but to make that livable, it would be too many cows for 2 people to realistically handle on their own. So either they did a smaller animal, like, say, sheep and goats, or they harvested corn, wheat, or tobacco. Midwesterner here, so let's say corn and wheat.

Anyway, Riza and her father living it rough on a homestead.

Money's a bit tight at times, but Hawkeye Sr. can take care of most of the repairs with his alchemy, so they always get by.

They've got chickens, two cows, and a lovely mare who pulls the cart whenever they need to go to town.

Three-year-old Riza being super excited about feeding the chickens for the very first time, giggling and squealing with joy as she throws feed everywhere.

Five-year-old Riza walking five miles into town to attend classes at the little one-room schoolhouse. There are a little more than thirty total students, only eight of which are anywhere near her age.

Seven-year-old Riza holding back tears when Hawkeye Sr. teaches her how to pluck and prep a fresh chicken. She can do it all on her own with a dry eye by the time she's eight.

Eleven-year-old Riza finding a goat one day on the farm, and after checking with the neighbors to see if they're missing one, decides she might as well keep it.

This is a mistake. The goat and Riza are mortal enemies. The thing will refuse to stop nipping at Riza whenever she goes out to milk it. But it keeps giving milk and sneaking away only to come back with baby goats, so she's left to suffer in silence.

Twelve-year-old Riza waking up at dawn in the summer to go detassel corn. Comes back around noon with scrapes all up and down her arms and eats enough to feed an army.

Thirteen-year-old Riza learning how to shoot and being known as the best shot for miles around before the year is up.

Fourteen-year-old Riza coming home from school only to find a sharp-looking, sweet-talking, soft-handed City Boy who her father claims is going to be his alchemist apprentice from now on.

Riza despairing about Roy-Fucking-Mustang and his complete and utter incompetence at everything that isn't alchemy. The boy can't cook, can't hunt, and wouldn't know the first thing about farm animal care if Bessie the Demon Goat bit him in the eye.

Eventually, Riza puts Mustang on cleaning and laundry duty, because that, at least, he can do. (Thank God for his three-dozen sisters and their insistence that Roy pulls his weight with chores.)

Riza's schoolhouse friends sighing over "that handsome Roy" and Riza blanches because she could never see herself falling for someone who thought milking the cows hurt them somehow. (It doesn't. Refusing to milk an animal is extremely harmful to the critter involved, and it's very likely that they could get an infection and seriously injure themselves and/or die. Don't let the radicalized vegans fool you)

Riza, to her chagrin, does develop a crush on Roy-Fucking-Mustang, who wouldn't know farm animal care if Bessie the Demon Goat bit him in the eye.

Roy, for his part, has long been crushing on Riza Hawkeye, the swol farmer's daughter who could pick him up with one hand a shoot a goose out of the sky with the other.

Neither admits it though because Roy has long since embarrassed himself past the point of no return, and Riza has complained too much to the folks in town that if she were to romance Roy now.... Well. Ain't either of the kids going to make the first move, so no move is made.

Fast forward a decade or so and Team Mustang is investigating something in the country.

Ed, Al, and Havoc are giving Mustang shit about approaching a horse wrongly and how there ain't no fancy cars out here.

Roy tries to refute it and shut them down, but Riza snorts and idly says something about him still not knowing jack about farming despite living on hers for two years.

Riza exposes Roy. Ed, Al, and Havoc rejoice. Roy despairs about his secrets being out, and Maes demands any and all pictures once he finds out.

And that's how Roy Mustang spent the rest of his days being bullied by four blond-haired Country Folk(TM).

#fullmetal alchemist #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #edward elric #alphonse elric #jean havoc #headcanon #if this brainworm keeps eating away at the creative juices i might have to fuck around a write a fic

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duskpeak · 1 year

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Vash Headcannons (p1/?)

(As someone who has watched the og anime and the badlands movie) this will also include things that are cannon about vash, it’s just to get a list so I can characterize him better/more consistently.

- vash doesn’t just cry when he’s upset, he cries ALL the time you can’t tell me he doesn’t cry when he laughs just a little too hard

- also he tears up when embarrassed, not all the time but the redder his face is the more likely there are to be tears in his eyes

- he has been called thousands of insults over the years, you will not find a new one, trust me

- on that note pls don’t insult him unless he knows you don’t mean it, better yet just don’t at all my boy does not deserve that🥺

- idk what the hell they were doing in the movie but vash is a hard believer of consent before touching anyone intimately ( there are exceptions like with his friends or in battle) but literally whatever was going on with him taking Amelia’s glove and boot off and rubbing his face against her hand/leg, he would not do that

- on the other hand he absolutely says the shit he says in the movie smh “THEN YOU AND I SHOULD GET OUR LITTLE TAILS BACK TO OUR LOVE NEST! YEE-HAW!” Or like with his first battle with the gung ho guns where he said he could have groped her three times

- big difference in the things he says and the things he’d actually do, a lot of the eyebrow raising stuff he says is just to bring the mood up

- we know his philosophy applies to animals and bugs but he has been shown to eat animals, it’s important to note that he apologizes to the animal before eating them

- someone please tell vash the eggs we eat wouldn’t hatch a baby anyway😭😭😭

- on the topic of food I think he likes sweet stuff, donuts are his favorite but he’s a fan of all pastries

- he shares with the animals around him, even if it’s not a Tomas he was riding (which he especially treats afterwards) this has put him in a number of situations where he is out of food or water or both, this has not stopped him from doing it again

- I’ve seen headcannons where he falls asleep easily in the cold because his plant body isn’t used to it or whatever, I don’t agree especially considering how damn cold it gets at night

- also there ain’t no way he can’t handle extreme temperature shifts at least in terms of being hot, bro walks around in full leather all day (THE DAY GUYS THERES TWO FUCKING SUNS THERE ID LITERALLY DIE)

- however if it’s a modern au I am more open to that idea just because I still like it even if I don’t agree

- he sings!! Even though people have canonically said that he sounds awful I think he can actually sing pretty well when he wants to

- I like to think he knows how to play smaller instruments like an ocarina or castanets

- he probably has a bunch of little skills that he’s developed while traveling, after all theres not much else to do other than look at sand

- loves finding the constellations that people have come up with for this planet, he liked the charts from Earth’s constellations and thinks it’s so cool getting to see people come up with stuff in real time

(There will probably be more parts to come so look forward to that I guess)

#trigun vash #vash #vash headcannons #not really x reader but I’ll add the tag anyway #vash x reader #trigun #vash saverem #vash the stampede #vash stampede

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loveronlineee · 2 years

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Being a Freak 101 Part 2 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: swearing

Synopsis: Y/N gets her first class on metalheads as Eddie introduces her to his music and style

Y/N notes: thinner/smaller than Eddie, hair long enough to be put in a ponytail

Y’all remember part 1 of this??? Cuz I totally forgot about it. Hehe oh well part 2 is finally hereeeeeee

Also I changed the title, it used to be Pranks on the Preps

Sorry if you were waiting for more Three. chapters! I didn’t want to force myself to finish the next part and not take the time to plan out where the story is going. Gonna work on it more tomorrow:)

Hope you enjoy this for tonight!

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

Eddie waited outside the school, leaning up against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth.

Suddenly the doors burst open and the cheerleaders spilled out, walking to their cars. Y/N came out with the same two girls she sat with at lunch. As soon as they saw Eddie, they started giggling to each other.

“Eddie! You waited.” Y/N said with a smile. The metalhead could tell this was her fake peppy act for this prank. Still, she was adorable.

“Of course. You asked me to.” He played along, showing the other girls that he was already wrapped around Y/N’s finger. In reality, he really was but he’d keep that a secret from Y/N for at least a little longer.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday!” Y/N waved as the rest of the cheerleaders drove out, leaving her and Eddie in the dark empty parking lot.

They began waking towards Eddie’s van. “How was Hellfire club?”

“Do you really care?” Eddie asked with a chuckle. Y/N smiled back.

“No, but tell me anyways.”

“Good. How was cheer practice?”

“Do you really care?” Yes.

“No, but tell me anyways.”

“Good.” The two got into the van and Eddie started it up.

“So what’s the plan L/N?”

“You gotta teach me about being a metalhead. Style, attitude, music. Everything.”

“So you want me to be your metalhead teacher huh?”

“Sure do Munson.”

“Yeah I think I can manage that.” Eddie grinned.

“So we going to your place?” Y/N asked. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Eddie didn’t know much about Y/N’s living arrangements but he knew his trailer wasn’t going to be up to standards.

He found himself unable to speak. It didn’t help that Y/N decided to let her hair down out of her ponytail at that exact moment. She shook her head and ran her fingers quickly through it before turning back to Eddie with a smile.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah sure.” He started driving, nerves building along the way.

How bad did I leave the trailer today? What’s on the couch? Did I leave food out??

A flood of questions filled his head, trying to find any way to prepare for Y/N walking through his front door.

He turned into Forest Hills Trailer Park and began to sink in his seat. He looked over at Y/N expecting her to have her nose turned up at the sight of where he lived.

But instead she was swaying a little in her seat, looking out the window quizzically. As Eddie parked the van, he tried to memorise the state of the inside of the trailer.

“Uh you’ll have to excuse the mess. The maid won’t be round til tomorrow.” He joked to ease the tension. Y/N chuckled as they reached the front door. The pair went inside.

Eddie could feel his anxiety building more and more. He watched as Y/N closed the door behind herself and began to look around. He waited for a disgusted look at the mess, a crinkle of her nose at the smell, a negative comment disguised as a compliment.

But no. Nothing. Y/N just smiled at him.

“You probably don’t know this about me, well most people don’t…” Y/N began. “But I used to live in a trailer park.” Eddie blinked.

“You did?” She nodded.

“Yeah, when I was little. My parents didn’t have enough for a kid but suddenly I was there and they just had to do their best.” Y/N shrugged. “My Dad got lucky, a few things went our way and now we live on Maple street with all the rich kids.”

“I had no idea.”

“Yeah so, I wanted you to know so you know I’m not judging you. To be honest, your place feels weirdly nostalgic. Kinda comforting.” Y/N smiled again. Eddie smiled back, feeling calmer.

“Eddie.” The pair turned to see his Uncle.

“Wayne! I thought you’d be at the bar.” Eddie said, which sounded a lot more suspicious when there was a pretty girl standing in their living room. “U-Uh this is Y/N she’s uh-“

“A friend from school.” Y/N saved. “It’s nice to meet you Mr Munson.” Wayne gave her a nod of approval and walked out the trailer.

“I’m going to the bar. You two have fun, but not too much fun.”

The pair made their way to Eddie’s bedroom. Eddie scrambled to grab anything lying around and shoved it in his closet. Y/N took a seat at the end of his bed as he went over to his collection of cassette tapes.

“Okaaaaay L/N. Metalhead lesson number one. Our superior taste in music.”

“Superior?” Y/N repeated comically, cocking her head to the side. A song began to play as Eddie turned to her.

“Yeah I know what I said.” Y/N giggled as she began bobbing her head to the beat. Eddie played an air guitar before dropping down next to her. “Now this my dear, is Black Sabbath.”

He walked over to his closet and opened it, having immediately forgotten that he had shoved a bunch of crap in there moments ago. It fell to the floor which Eddie ignored in favour of going through his clothes. “Okay whilst we’re filling your preppy brain with Paranoid, let’s think about your outfits…”

Y/N watched as Eddie sifted through his belongings, picking out some things. “Now the lady metalheads dress a little differently to the guys usually, but this can be a start.” He turned around and held out a pair of blue ripped jeans and a black AC/DC shirt.

Y/N took them and went over to the bathroom. Eddie looked through his music, picking the next song as he waited.

“Eddie!” Y/N called out.

“Yeah?” Eddie looked up to see Y/N in his jeans, holding the waist on one side so they wouldn’t fall down.

“You got a belt?” She chuckled. Eddie tore his eyes away from the top of Y/N’s underwear and scrambled to get her his black belt.

“Y-Yeah yeah here.”

“Thanks. Won’t be too long!” She disappeared back into the bathroom. Eddie breathed out. He could feel the heat creeping up on his cheeks. It hadn’t occurred to him that seeing Y/N in his clothes might be a little too hot for him to handle. “Holy shit!” Eddie rushed to the bathroom door.

“What? What is it? You okay?”

“Your belt buckle is hand cuffs!!!” Y/N said excitedly. “That’s so fucking cool!” Eddie grinned so wide at that. Y/N emerged from the bathroom and gave Eddie a twirl.

The jeans and the shirt were way too big for her but weirdly, she pulled it off really well. Yeah, Eddie was right. This was way too hot.

“Lookin good L/N.” He grinned. The two went back to Eddie’s room so she could use the full length mirror.

“Oh my god. I look so different.” Y/N giggled to herself as Eddie stood next to her. “Well we definitely look like we’re going to the same concert.” She said, making Eddie chuckle. “So you said that girl metalheads dress a little differently?”

“Yeah you’ll probably want to get a women’s leather jacket, some type of black boots, my rings won’t fit you so you’ll want some of them…”

“Well then, sounds like we’re going to the mall tomorrow Munson.”

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