#skin and makeup gadgets

[inspectorcosmo]

screw it *humanizes FunTropolis characters*

[ichorai]

the scientist & the assassin ; natasha romanoff.

read part two ; afterlife.

pairing ; natasha romanoff x gn!scientist!reader

synopsis ; fragments of time with your girlfriend, soon-to-be-wife, natasha.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, established relationship, scientist au

warnings / includes ; a bit of cursing, blood/injury, set before civil war era, avengers found family trope idec, sexual innuendos, bucky and sam annoying reader lol, steve being an absolute sweetheart, mentions of fire, liho cameo, mentions of yelena

main masterlist.

JANUARY.

Small sparks flew up from the welding torch as you worked the blue flame over the metal, eyes narrowed with concentration. It was a delicate process, and you were taking extra caution not to mess the process up. You were building new protective gear on Nick Fury’s request, and had to make sure that it was without fault. 

Your girlfriend of three years, however, clearly had other plans. Natasha was leaning against your workbench, brows quirked as she repeated the question that had flown right over your head in the midst of your fixation.

You hastily turned the fire off and shoved the protective welding mask away from your face so you could properly look at her. “Huh? Did you say something?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though not without a ghost of a grin to her lips. With a sigh, she asked the question for a third time. “I know you’re busy making all your little gizmos and gadgets… but are you coming to Tony’s party?”

A beat of silence. You blinked in confusion. It was only then did you realize that your girlfriend was all dressed up, face dolled up with flawless makeup, donned in a silken, viridescent dress that complimented her figure beautifully. “What party?”

“The annual New Years’ party—Tony’s asked you to come a million times. You’re not gonna leave me all alone with him, are you?” Natasha asked, walking closer to you until her nose was only an inch from yours, placing her hands on the lapels of your lab coat, tugging you closer.

A gulp lodged in your throat. “No, ma’am,” you murmured, lips dipping forward to catch hers. 

She leaned back before you could, however, tilting her head expectedly. There was a playful glint to the deep green of her irises. “Go get ready, then. I already laid out a matching outfit for you to save you the hassle. Who knows… maybe we can leave a bit early too…”

Before she could finish her sentence, you were already shirking off your white coat, hurrying out of the laboratory to get changed for the party. Natasha couldn’t help the amused smile gracing the corner of her lips as she watched you scramble away.

FEBRUARY.

Blood dripped from her cheek. Her hair, her dress, her legs. She was drenched in it.

A shuddering sigh of exhaust fell from her split lips. She gingerly slipped out of her heels, holding the two of them in one hand and walking up to the house barefoot.

“Nat,” you whispered in part-horror, part-concern at her bloodied state when you swung the door open.

“It’s not mine,” she hoarsely mumbled, slipping past you, bee-lining towards the bathroom, in dire need of some cleaning.

Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, plagued with memories of the bloodbath of a mission. There were many questions you wanted to ask her, but you held your tongue. She was in no state to answer your barrage of queries, and needed nothing more than someone to care for her, for a change.

Gently, you took her crimson-slickened hands within yours, uncaring of the blood smearing on your skin. You led her to the rest of the way to the bathroom, gently telling her to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. A small towel cloth was dampened beneath the faucet, and you slowly cleaned off the delicate wounds littered over her arms, her face, and her abdomen. The two of you were completely silent, basking in the comfort of being there for each other. Natasha’s green eyes shone with simultaneous gratitude and hollow trauma. For a moment, it appeared as if she was going to weep, but she kept the tears at bay.

Once you cleaned off most of the blood, you left the bathroom to fetch her some of her sleep clothes—which was really just a worn, sleeveless shirt of some obscure rock band you didn’t recognize, and a soft pair of basketball shorts. She had wiped away the rest of the blood when you came back, stripping her outer layers and shirking them into the sink to wash later.

For now, the both of you just needed to sleep.

She slipped on the pajamas, before settling into the bed with a lethargic sigh.

“Thank you,” she croaked out just as you clambered beneath the blankets on the other side of the large bed.

You hummed in response, roping her close to you, pressing a soft kiss to her hairline. This time, Natasha had to willfully force the urge to cry away.

“Get some rest, Nat. I love you,” you said into her skin.

Natasha relaxed into your hold, eyes drooping shut. She wanted to say that she loved you back, but found that she was already falling into a deep slumber.

MARCH.

“What about Jennifer? She’s in the analytics department,” said Natasha, sipping on her iced tea as she eyed Steve expectantly. “I can set you up with her if you want.”

The blonde man shifted uncomfortably. “I… I don’t know, Nat—”

“For God’s sake, Nat, stop it already!” you exclaimed, but not without an exasperated smile to your lips. “Look at him, you’re embarrassing the poor guy. Sorry, Steve—she’s just looking out for you.”

The hundred-year-old man smiled handsomely, forking some scrambled eggs into his mouth. “It’s fine. I’m not really looking to date at the moment… still trying to figure out how things work this century before I can really settle down.”

“Well, you take your time, Steve,” you told him gently.

“You sure? Rumor has it Allison from human resources has had her eye on you for a while—ow! I was joking!” she exclaimed when you sharply elbowed her in the ribs. “But, really, Cap… I’m happy you’re taking your time.”

The blonde hummed gratefully. “What about you two? Any plans on…” He gestured vaguely, which made you and Natasha glance at each other with a grin.

Your girlfriend scoffed, the green of her eyes glimmering with mirth. “Why? You wanna be the best man?”

Steve seemed to splutter at that, vehemently trying to backtrack. Heat flushed his cheeks a soft pink hue.

“I’m just pulling your leg, Steve,” Natasha quipped, playfully kicking at his foot beneath the table. “Lighten up, will you?”

“We haven’t even spoken about marriage yet,” you chimed in, smiling warmly at the ex-assassin. “But who knows? Maybe we will soon.”

APRIL.

Nails tapped loudly against the surface of the table she was sitting on, legs crossed as she languidly leaned back, staring up at the artificial white lights of the laboratory. She was saying something—something about her last mission with Tony. 

Judging by her expression you quickly stole a glance at, you could tell that she was complaining. There was a slight knit to her brow, and she was frowning ever so slightly.

You made quiet, absentminded noises of acknowledgement as she told her story, nodding emphatically. You were working on a device to immediately disable strong magnetic fields, tinkering with the small bits and pieces with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe I should just stop worrying about him—it’s not my problem if Tony drinks until he can barely stand up…”

She trailed off, tilting her head back down to watch you work. With an amused scoff, she said your name. Without taking your eyes off your work, you merely hummed, “Mhm?”

“You haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said, have you?”

Hopping down from the table, she made her way closer to you, her fingers nimbly slotting beneath your chin. You met her gaze, briefly glancing down at her parted lips, skin flushing with embarrassment. 

Sheepish, you grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Nat.” She arched a sharp brow and you winced. “I love you…?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha acquiesced, a ghost of a grin tracing the corner of her lips. “I love you, too.” She let you go to haul herself back up onto the table, swinging her legs in an almost child-like manner. “Anyways, as I was saying…”

MAY.

Sunglasses, glasses of chilled orange juice, and warm sand beneath your feet.

Closer to the beach’s shallow waves, Bruce, Steve, and Clint were playing with a frisbee, while Tony and Thor were off on a ski-boat, skimming across the waters much faster than they probably should be going. The team was on a little mini-vacation, needing some well-deserved rest after going on nonstop, continuous missions.

A book was cracked open on your lap, one that you had been meaning to start for ages now, but never had the time before. Beside you was your girlfriend, lathering sunscreen over her arms and exposed skin. “Did you put on sunscreen?” she asked you, offering the bottle.

“Yeah,” you replied, prying your eyes away from the novel to press a kiss to her cheek, and then another to the side of her nose. 

She grinned beautifully, the green of her eyes gleaming with fondness. “You’re such a nerd. Who brings a book to the beach?”

“Well… look who’s dating the nerd who brought a book to the beach?” you replied with a level tone, trying your best to suppress your growing smile.

Huffing in amusement, Natasha lightly shoved you, taking another sip of her orange juice. “God, it just feels like we never get to fully relax like this, you know? I wish every day could be like this.”

Shutting your book, you placed it off to the side and shuffled closer to her, curling an arm over her shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you hummed, tracing aimless shapes along the skin of her arm. Hesitant, you spoke up again, “Hey, you remember when Steve asked us about getting married?”

“Mhm?”

“Well, uhm…” you started, but thought better of it, not wanting to ruin such a perfect moment as this one by forcing your girlfriend into a commitment you weren’t even sure she really wanted.

When you trailed off, Natasha pulled away from you slightly, her head cocked in an expectant manner.

“If you’re not gonna ask me, then I will,” she told you with a laugh to her voice. “You wanna get married?”

For a moment, you spluttered for words, not expecting this turn of events. 

“You… Nat, are you sure?” you rasped, cupping her face gently. “I don’t want you to rush into anything. Yes, a thousand times yes, but fair warning—it means you’ll be stuck with me forever. Forever is like… a really long time.”

Natasha hummed, leaning forward until your nose brushed against hers. Gods, you loved this woman so fucking much. 

“Sounds like a nightmare,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile to her lips. “Sign me up.”

With that, she kissed you, tasting of orange juice and a tiny bit of sunscreen.

JUNE.

Sam and Bucky hovered around your lab like a pair of incessant flies that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you swatted at them. 

“Don’t touch that, Bucky,” you found yourself saying nearly twenty times, followed by an exasperated sigh as he would proceed to prod and poke at the machinery. 

Sam was no better, asking you about a million questions in regard to all the different gadgets and gizmos in progress.

On a normal day, you usually wouldn’t let these two into your lab, but you were ordered to fix and improve both of their broken comm links, and made the terrible mistake of inviting them to come watch. Of course, they grew bored of watching you toy with wires and circuits, opting to wander around your lab with wide, curious eyes.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, holding up a small, black cube half the size of his palm.

“Collapsible motorcycle,” you replied, briefly glancing at him, before returning your gaze to your work on the table. “Just don’t press the button on the bottom.”

Whistling with clear impression, Sam looked nearly tempted to try it out. But he knew you would slice his hand off if he did, so he set the cube back down. “That’s sick, man. Who’s it for?”

“Nat,” you said. “Made it for her. It’s still in its testing phase—I’m hoping it'll be all done and ready by her birthday.” 

Bucky glanced over Sam’s shoulder to look at the cube. “I like riding motorbikes,” he said. “Could you make me one?”

“Unless you could get Fury to order me, that’s a no,” you huffed out with a mild laugh. “I barely agreed to fix your comms for you—which, by the way, how did you even break them this bad? Did you guys pour a bucket of water over and stomp on them, or something?” 

At the memory of Bucky and Sam both accidentally tumbling into a river during a mission, they both grimaced.

“Something like that, sure,” said the century-old man, wearily pulling at his face.

“That’s not fair,” Sam, a full grown man, just about whined. You halted in your ministrations, raising a brow. “How come you don’t make us any fancy little tools or weapons or bikes or magical gizmos, but you make ‘em for Nat?”

Scoffing, you dipped your head back down to continue polishing off their comms. “Yeah, well, she’s my fiance.”

“And?” said Sam, placing his hands on his hips. “Am I not your best friend? Is Mr. Cyborg here not your second best friend?” 

Another deeply amused laugh rumbled from within your chest. “With how you two are behaving, I’d say Steve is my best friend right now.”

The two were left sulking in your lab for the next hour, with Bucky nearly catching on fire when he picked up a flamethrower disguised as a potted plant. Both of them left with charred fingers, singed eyebrows, and about half a dozen of your tiny gadgets stuffed within their pockets.

JULY.

It was Steve’s birthday, which meant Natasha organized a barbecue in Clint’s large backyard. There were red, white, and blue streamers hung up over the trees and over the house’s porch, several star-shaped lanterns decorating the wooden tables set out. Bruce and Tony were manning the grills, while you were playing a game of catch with Peter and Clint’s kids. The rest of the Avengers were gathered by one of the tables, piling up their plates high with food.

The air was heavy with the mouth-watering aroma of cooking hot dogs, grilled corn, and juicy burgers. Dessert was an assortment of cookies, an array of melting popsicles, and a large blue birthday cake that made Steve smile so wide it was yet to leave his face.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Natasha speaking to Thor, her hand extended out to him as the God inspected the ring on her finger.

“A grand ring, that is!” the Norse God bellowed. “Green suits you, Natasha.”

“Thanks, Thor,” said your fiance, grinning warmly. The two walked off to grab some hotdog buns and harass Tony to hurry up with cooking.

The ball nearly hit you in the face because you were so busy staring at Natasha, stopping inches from your nose when Peter darted forward with his near inhumane reaction time to grab it away. 

“Woah!” he exclaimed, afraid to have accidentally hurt you by hurling a fast ball at you when you weren’t even paying attention. “Sorry, are you okay? What are you looking at?” 

You pursed your lips, glancing one last time at Natasha. A blush creeped up your neck. She was going to marry you soon. How on earth did you get so lucky?

“Nothing, kid. Come on, hand me the ball, why’d you stop?” you cleared your throat in a fruitless attempt to play it off.

Peter followed your line of sight, brows raising when he caught sight of Natasha now showing off her ring to Steve and Bucky. He smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it, instead tossing the ball right back to you (which you still somehow missed catching).

AUGUST.

“Here,” you said, handing her the steaming mug of coffee, just how she liked it—dark with a tiny bit of sugar. “You okay? You’ve been more quiet than usual the past few days.”

The two of you leaned against the balcony’s railing, watching the sun rise over the cityscape, painting the sky a myriad of soft oranges and clementines and tangerines. With your free hand, the other being occupied by your own hot cup of tea, you wrapped around Natasha’s waist, tugging her close. You pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, brushing an errant strand of hair falling away from her loose braid.

“Sorry, I’ve just recently been thinking,” she whispered, a bit distant. “My sister is out there, somewhere. Sometimes I think it’s best to just give her her space, since she hasn’t reached out, either. Maybe she doesn’t want to see me ever again—after all, I’m a living, breathing reminder of the Red Room. The terrible things we were forced to do. I’m not too upset about it… it’s not like we were a real family, anyway. I don’t know. I guess I just miss her.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to tell her. Go find her sister? Forget about her? Tell her to think about it some more? Natasha rarely ever spoke about her past, much less her temporary ‘fake’ family.

A frown crossed over your lips, brows divoting. “Nat, if your sister really wanted to see you, she would reach out. You’re an Avenger—it’s not that hard to find you. You can’t really say the same about her… you don’t know a single thing about where she might be now. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Natasha sipped on her coffee, blowing out a tired sigh. Tears warbled over her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, sniffing slightly.

“Do you think she remembers me?” her voice broke just a bit. “Because sometimes I forget what her face looks like. Did she have blue eyes, or were they green like mine? How blonde was her hair? What did her smile look like? I… I’m scared I’ll just completely forget and I won’t ever see her again to—”

“She remembers,” you murmured in response. “You were her sister. She’d remember.”

Another sniffle. Natasha wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand. 

“God, sorry. I’m such a mess,” she croaked, laughing bitterly.

“And I love you anyway,” you told her, kissing her just below her watery eyes. “Come on—let’s go watch some TV.”

SEPTEMBER.

The wedding was a small, quiet event. 

You, Natasha, and the rest of the Avengers family were once again gathered in Clint’s expansive yard—though, this time, everybody was dressed much more formally than they had on Steve’s birthday. The ceremony was full of tears and sniffling, tissues and running mascara. 

The vows you had written for Nat were long and nearly ramble-y, whilst hers were perfectly short and to-the-point.

Once Bruce had officiated the two of you (having learned how to do so online), you had embraced each other with a watery kiss, grinning against one anothers’ lips. The rest of the group had burst into raucous applause, Tony and Steve the loudest of them all, the two of them being the best men of the wedding.

Then came the food and the dancing, which lasted well into the night.

She was glowing the entire time. Your wife was glowing.

And when you told her so, she smiled, all wide and toothy. “It’s just nervous sweat,” she replied with a laugh as you gripped her waist tighter, before twirling her around in your arms.

“God, I love you,” you murmured, pressing your forehead against hers. 

The green of her eyes sparkled with your words. “I love you, too. I can’t believe we’re married now.”

“Take your time,” you hummed. “You’ve got the rest of your life to get used to it.”

OCTOBER.

Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, tongue poking out the corner of your mouth. The table was a mess, covered in orange mush, a dozen knives, and your phone playing a video on how to properly carve a pumpkin.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath when you messed up the shape, letting out a long, drawn-out groan. “Why is this so hard? It’s just a pumpkin!”

When you glanced at Natasha and her fruit, you weren’t at all surprised to see that she was well into carving an intricate, detailed design with wide eye-holes and gnarled teeth.

“It’s not that hard,” she replied with an easy smile, clearly amused at your struggling. “What’s going on with you? You’re usually really good with your hands.”

Heat flushed up your neck and spidered across the skin of your cheeks at the hidden insinuation behind her words. “I don’t know,” you huffed, wiping down your hands on the apron you were wearing. Usually you weren’t one to give up so easily, but you had been tinkering with several new task-droids, and there was no better time than now to test them out.

“What are you doing?” she curiously asked once you slid off your seat, reaching into one of the cabinets to pull out the little cuboid robots. “God, it feels like I’m in a Black Mirror episode,” she murmured, watching them come to life and start carving up your pumpkin for you with tiny microblades after you input a design for them to work on.

“San Junipero Black Mirror or Metalhead Black Mirror?” you replied, propping your face up on an elbow as you watched the small bots diligently work. 

Your wife scowled, her sharp brows divoting. “Definitely Metalhead.”

The both of you shuddered, before you dipped forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’m gonna make us a batch of cookies—at least that I know I can’t mess up.”

NOVEMBER.

A wince, a frown, an uncomfortable shift. Natasha was used to pain, and was taught from a young age to steel herself, but the wounds usually never got this bad.

There was a deep slash across her stomach, dark blood dousing the entirety of her abdomen, dripping down her sides and leaking off the lab table you had set her on. You tried to be gentle while you cleaned her up, tried to be quick with the stitches to lessen the pain—but the wound was tender and wide, and you had to slow down to be careful.

The entire time, your face bore an expression of pure worry and concern.

“I’m sorry,” she hoarsely whispered, lips twisted into a grimace.

“For what?” you quietly mumbled, focused on fixing her up.

She blew out a pained sigh as you started another stitch. “For making you worry. I shouldn’t have gone on that mission, I know.”

“Well, you did,” you lightly replied, teeth gnashing together. “No reason to dwell on it. It’s okay, Nat. I’m not mad at you.”

There was a beat of silence. She laid back, fists clenched by her sides as she endured through the pain.

“Just disappointed?” she asked, gingerly laughing, despite the pain it brought to her chest.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I am. I just don’t like seeing you pointlessly throwing yourself headfirst into a suicidal mission, just to come crawling back in shreds. I also don’t like seeing you hurt because I love you, and I need you to be more careful for me.”

Natasha pursed her lips. Her green eyes flashed with pain when you wiped away the excess blood. “Okay,” your wife croaked. “I love you, too.”

DECEMBER.

“Open it!” you goaded, nudging Natasha to the suspiciously unwrapped box. 

Her green eyes were narrowed as she shot you a warning look. “I swear to God, if a fake snake is gonna come flying out like last time—”

“It’s your birthday, I would never!” you interrupted impatiently, gesturing to the box once more.

With a huff, Natasha peeled back the loose lids of the cardboard box, making a noise of surprise upon seeing a little black cat curled up inside, snoozing contentedly. 

“Oh, my God. You got us a little kitty,” she crooned, slowly picking the cat up. The black-pelted feline purred at the contact, nuzzling her dark nose against Natasha’s face. “This is literally the best thing you’ve ever gotten me. It beats anything you’ve ever made for me!”

Clearing your throat, you toyed with the collapsible motorcycle you had hidden in your pocket. “Well… don’t say that too quickly. You wanna name her?”

Natasha stroked the cat’s dark head, her hazel eyes happily blinking shut. “Liho. It means misfortune in Russian—black cats are bad luck, right? She’ll have to prove her name wrong.”

“Liho,” you parroted, smiling so wide it was a wonder your face didn’t split into two. 

With a grin, Natasha placed Liho back down on the ground, who took to weaving between both of your legs, her fluffy tail curved around your shins. 

“God, I love you,” your wife suddenly announced, cupping your face between her palms and littering several chaste kisses all over your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re gonna love me more after this,” you told her, brandishing the small black cuboid from your pocket. “Come on—I’m gonna have to show you this outside. Let’s go, Liho.”

The three of you made your way out of the house, Liho silently following along like a shadow. You beamed brightly at the small cat, then at your wife, who was squinting against the sharp sunlight, smiling nonetheless. It was all so perfect, nearly too good to be true.

Until the collapsible motorcycle burst into flames while you were trying to uncollapse it, which had Natasha yanking the curious Liho away from the growing fire as you ran into the house to grab the extinguisher.

Alright—maybe not entirely perfect… but amazing nonetheless. 

“Happy birthday?” you sheepishly said as you doused the flames away. “That was, uh… that was supposed to do that.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, setting Liho back down before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You can clean that up later. Let’s go cut the cake—maybe we can skip on blowing out the candles this year.”

As the three of you made your way back inside the house, Natasha glanced down at the little black cat trotting in front of you. “She’s living up to her name so far. God, I can’t believe you got me a cursed cat for my birthday.”

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Don't Scream

Prologue

Yandere!Norman Nordstrom x Younger Female! Reader.

Movie: Don't Breathe. Stephen Lang and Reader Chan. Setting: America, 2024.

Retired and lonely Veteran of the US Navy, Norman Nordstrom rolled his icy yet beautiful blue eyes in boredom as he scrolled around his new and latest phone his oldest nephew bought him for Christmas.

Norman wasn't sure why he needed the latest model of a mini computer. He liked his old phone just fine. Out of politeness, Norman accepted the weird and modern gadget to not hurt his Nephew's feelings.

Norman hated to admit that he was an old man. Past his prime. He regretted his life so far. He was always partying and hooking up when young. Then he went to join the Navy Branch once he turned eighteen. After Boot Camp, he went to college and other more years of education to be a weapon mechanic.

His past of drinking and womanizing caught up with him. Now, Norman was eating his father's words. To settle down and fall in love.

His pride ruined him.

It's too late.

No one wants a wrinkly old man like him.

Even if he did fall in love, she wouldn't love him back. He had nothing to give. Besides money.

Norman sighed and was curious.

Most beautiful woman in the world.

He typed it up and it revealed you...

Norman's eyes widened in awe. There was a lady no, an outer world beauty with everything effeminate and delicate. Graceful and elegant was what described you. A fragile looking princess. Your skin was glowing with freshness and healthiness. Your lips were plump and fat like a fish and red like the color of blood. Natural. Norman knew you were not wearing makeup. The pictures he scrolled down on Google images had made it known you were followed by paparazzi.

Wearing casual and both fancy clothes as if going to an outing. Best of all, you were followed by those pesky reporters in a beach. Your beautiful and healthy weighted body that was revealed in a bikini gave Norman a weird feeling. Sexual awakening. He never felt this horny all his life

Even as a teenager.

He looked around the Internet to see you were a college student in California and takes selfies and have an Instagram and Facebook.

Your Facebook was private. But, your instagram was public. You posted mostly pictures of your pet cat, a horse and a parrot. Then sometimes pictures of yourself.

Norman liked that. You didn't seem conceited with yourself. He wanted to know more of you.

Norman decided to make an Instagram account. Right after his scheduled eye exam with his doctor.

He looked up to see your name.

Name and Last Name.

He never heard of that name before. Sounds like a foreigner language. Like your effeminate features, your name suited your exquisite and elegant face.

You were destined to have that beautiful name.

But, first, Norman rolled his eyes.

That damned doctor. What does he have to tell him that is so important?

[thatsexcpisces]

Random things I associate with each rising sign 💌

Aries rising:

Confidence, sharp eyebrows, being outspoken, lots of tattoos, prominent forehead, going to the gym, frat parties, short temper, courage, impulsive decisions, taking control of a room, finishing in first place, blasting loud music, trusting yourself, traveling

Taurus rising:

Sophisticated taste in restaurants, natural beauty, good food lovers, jewelry, small but full lips, taking good care of plants, healthy hair, clear skin, comfy blankets, offering things to others, bakeries, peace, round faces, soft voices, singing, sleeping in all day

Gemini risings:

Working on a podcast, expressive eyes, funny facial expressions, talking a-mile-a-minute, being the most charming person in the room, thin yet long eyebrows, glasses, being able to talk to anyone, finding the positives in a negative situation, youthful appearance, gossip, Saturday brunch, fairies, pats on the back

Cancer risings:

Pastel-colored clothing, being the support system of the family, gentle hugs, sensitivity, big round faces, glossy eyes, calm voices, hot cocoa, bringing sweet energy to every gathering, empathy, loving animals, silver jewelry, mothers, bright smiles, spring, nice boobs, being kind to outcasts, the ocean, comfort

Leo risings

Self-love, theatre & acting, creativity, baby lions, siren eyes, good taste in fashion, vibrant personalities, gorgeous hair, taking you out for drinks, open to being with anyone, orange & white, cherry-flavored drinks, the beach, karaoke, fancy mirrors, feathered boas, sharp nails that are always done

Virgo risings:

Routines, to-do lists, cleaning the house every Sunday, massages, spa days, ‘clean’ makeup look, soft eyes, face masks, stomach problems, good cooking skills, maturity, color-coded clothes, sunset shades of orange, plants, lavender smells, fresh laundry, delicate jewelry, animal lovers, smooth hair

Libra risings:

Solving conflicts, flirting with everyone, the color pink, smelling good, tulips, easygoing characters, cinnamon rolls, flashy clothes, designer bags, hidden anger issues, carrying snacks everywhere, luscious hair, Regina George, chic flicks, angelic eyes, pearls, long legs, white cats

Scorpio risings:

Living a secret double life, intense stares, red-bottom heels, black eyeliner, purple flowers, heightened intuition, seeing messages in dreams, cigarettes after sex, long hugs, watching movies before going to sleep, headphones on all day, strong perfumes, powerful voices, Halloween, quick comebacks, dirty minded jokes, lace clothes

Sagittarius risings:

Being the funniest person in the room, bright smiles, loud laughs, liked by everyone, elephants, pop-out colors, wisdom, studying at night, traveling the world, defined teeth, strong bodies, dark sense of humor, stylish accessories, not caring what others think, bold lipstick, skiing, reading books to children

Capricorn risings:

Classy & elegant style, hardworking, black sweaters, the newest computer, coffee, nice teeth, tied hair, gold rings, playing golf, money in an envelope, marble tables, hard life, strict parents, gardening, setting rules in every environment, writing down goals, post-it notes, the color green and brown, beautiful houses, poodles

Aquarius risings:

Technology, good social skills, Star Wars, electric blue, individuality, protesting all day, new gadgets, defined jaws, being bored of everyone, writing a blog, music festivals, holographic-themed outfits, reading books, ranting about your favorite show, know-it-alls, hiding how you really feel, Twitter, healthy diets, car dates

Pisces risings:

Painting, sad yet sweet eyes, rewatching the same movie over and over again, sleeping for a long time, reading minds, trauma, taking a walk in the woods, doodling in your notebook, taboo topics, picnics, astral projection, baking on a rainy day, kissing your loved ones, skirts, pretty hair clips, piled up journals, wind, comfy living rooms

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: December 1, 2024

Reworked Character #3: Eri Kasamoto

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to abandonment, abuse, underage drinking, crime, an unhealthy romance, death, and SA.

Real name: Chizuko Utsunomiya

Alias: Memphis Bomb Princess

Occupation: Staff Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., one of Ptolemaios’ deputies (formerly), and the leader of a street gang (formerly)

Retirement plans: Open up an inclusive orphanage in Hiroshima and get the necessary requirements to become a pyrotechnician and swim instructor

Special skills: Orchestrating stealth missions and suppression operations, proficiency in explosives, survival techniques, lock picking, and seduction

Hobbies: Swimming, kickboxing, building and testing out explosive gadgets, thinking about her past mistakes and what she could’ve done better during her solitary nature walks, and playing card games with her friends that include some sort of money-related bet

Likes: Fio, pyrotechnics, aimless walks, a keychain that was gifted to her by Emily, and having the swimming pool all to herself on a hot summer day

Dislikes: Missing out on chances to put her kickboxing skills to the test in combat, riding in vehicles she isn’t able to drive, overly mischievous, lazy, and hot-headed people, being touched without permission, and cults

Favourite drink: Vodka (preferably Spirytus)

Sexuality: Homoflexible sapiosexual

Gender: Female

Age: 16 (in 2022), 22 (in 2028), 24 (in 2030), 26 (in 2032), 28 (in 2034), 35 (in 2041), 37 (in 2043), 38 (in 2044), and 41 (in 2047)

Blood type: B-

Weight: 126 lbs. (57 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 6” (167.64 cm) Japanese ectomorph with an athletic, sylph-like build, broad shoulders, sand-hued skin, a black mole under her right eye, and top scars. She has dull chestnut eyes with visible bags beneath them and fingernails that are painted a metallic green. She has jet black hair with choppy bangs that has been bleached dirty blonde and is styled in a mid-back shaggy wolf cut, often worn up in a ponytail.

Eri has a jarring diagonal scar that runs from the left side of her temple, across the bridge of her nose, to her right levator scapulae muscle. She also has self-inflicted stab scars on the palm of her right hand, cut marks on her right forearm, the skin on her arms and shoulders have been picked at, and her legs are riddled with scrapes. She lost her left forearm in a traumatic incident, later receiving a metallic silver prosthetic replacement from Ptolemaios during her training. She dons green gold snake bite and silver jestrum piercings, and her makeup features a glittery artichoke green smoky eyeliner, light brown mascara, and coral pink lips.

Eri’s military gear consists of an olive green bandana on her head, a metal dog tag necklace with her name, and a black headset for communication with her snipers. She wears a black bra, myrtle-hued sleeveless button midriff, and a satin crimson sash. She wears a purplish-grey unbuttoned coat with ripped sleeves, four pockets, and a hidden strap compartment that holds her electrical baton. On the back of her jacket is the logo of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., which Fio kindly embroidered for her. Her purplish-grey army cargo pants were tucked into black combat boots and held up by a silver-buckled dark teal belt around her waist. She has a sheath for her combat knife and a drop leg holster for her handgun with a silencer.

She wears a black gas mask with red-tinted lenses, olive green gloves, black knee and elbow pads, and sage-streaked silver tassel earrings. She wears a keychain necklace, a gift from her late girlfriend Emily, featuring a fiery comet encircling a reddish-purple amethyst stone carved into the shape of a human heart. Eri is adorned with two black steel armlets, one on each arm: the right armlet has a circular green crystal at its centre, while the left armlet has a red one. The green crystal grants her the power to unleash grey lightning, while the red crystal, forged from a fragment of Sol Dae Rokker, can summon deadly, wolf-shaped spirits that dive-bomb enemies.

Over her midriff, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. She carries around a sage green load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, grenades, fire bombs, mines, hand-crafted explosive gadgets, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, three canisters of gasoline, a rocket launcher, and a bottle of vodka. Her olive green waist pack, secured at the back of her belt, holds a silvery flask of vodka, a matchbox, and a compact makeup kit containing her eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss.

The pockets of her coat contain a pack of fruity bubblegum, a navy blue lighter, a rainbow-coloured bouncy ball, a deck of playing cards, and her lucky gold Kaiki Shoho coin. Meanwhile, her cargo pants hold lockpicking tools and three boxes of cigarettes. She has worn gauze wrapped around her right forearm, a gun holster for her handgun, and a sheath for her machete. She's still in possession of a Ptolemaic Army-commissioned scoped bolt-action rifle, which is often draped over her left shoulder.

Character summary: She's a vengeful, sarcastic, cynical, and tomboyish leader who will stop at nothing to brutally hurt anyone she perceives as a threat to her comrades and friends or have caused them genuine harm. She has a sadistic streak, evident in her peculiar habit of smearing her enemies' blood on herself to intimidate others. When focused on her military duties and protecting those she respects and cares about, she tends to neglect her own needs. Eri's outspoken and crass demeanour shows no fear in speaking her mind, telling others off, and using profanities.

As a self-reliant and lonesome individual, she’s bitter and aloof towards those she dislikes and strangers. She has a tendency to engage in dishonest behaviour and manipulate situations to her advantage. When confronted about these actions, she often responds with aggressive language and contradictory arguments. She holds immense respect for the deities, particularly Sol Dae Rokker, and will go to great lengths to worship and make sacrifices to them, often ritually sacrificing the remains of her enemies and indulging in orgies with her team of Ptolemaic rebels.

She fearlessly rebels against anything she deems morally wrong or a life-threatening risk. She shows no mercy towards her enemies, and her military missions showcase her exceptional resourcefulness, cunning, and tactical prowess. She’s capable of sympathy and offering wise advice, but her willingness to do so greatly depends on the situation and her personal connection with the individual. She has immense compassion for those who endured a difficult childhood and does her best to offer comfort and support.

She becomes deeply distressed and depressed if she discovers someone she cares about has attempted or died by suicide, believing they had the potential for happiness and a meaningful life. She finds narcissism, toxic masculinity, and attention-seeking behaviours utterly distasteful, and is particularly sensitive to being misjudged or perceived as a "bad person”. Lacking formal education, she takes initiative to educate herself on a wide range of subjects from fundamentals to practical, real-world issues.

Eri considers her team of Ptolemaic defectors and select members of the Regular Army's elite forces to be like family, including Ralf, Hyakutaro, Tyra, Alisa, and Red Eye. She's overly protective of Fio, whom she regards with sisterly affection, Marco, whom she admires as a courageous leader deserving of comfort and sympathy, and Walter, whom she treats like a younger brother with endearing curiosity. She harbours significant animosity towards Tarma, seeing him as a hot-headed idiot who only causes trouble and can't take things seriously. Despite her best efforts to tolerate him, she can't help but snap at him when his silly antics go too far, he inadvertently ruins a plan or he gets too flirtatious and physically close to Fio. She longs to understand why he left her all those years ago and can't shake the feeling that he was only interested in a fleeting excitement, violating the trust she once had for him. She's eager to reach out to her younger brother, yet worries that acknowledging their biological tie might lead to rejection, and she'd miss the opportunity to connect with him face-to-face.

She deeply appreciates the unwavering loyalty and obedience of her team of Ptolemaic Army rebels, who show remarkable kindness and respect towards her friends and comrades. Their well-being is paramount to her, and she'll stop at nothing to ensure their safety, driven by a profound fear of losing or failing them. Although she hesitates to acknowledge it, lest she hurt their feelings and/or diminish their sense of worth, she does harbour a special affinity for certain members, with some holding a closer place in her heart than others.

Her top favourites are Mikuláš, Dezső, Zanokuhle, Amilcare, Efterpi, and Radovan. She holds them in high regard due to their unwavering support, exceptional expertise in guerrilla warfare and stealth, and efficient completion of tasks. On the other hand, her least favourite team members are Harvie, Souma, Jaroslavas, and Anuradha. She finds them less impressive due to their tendency to slack off, often distracted by gossiping, playing card games, taking frequent smoke breaks, admiring nature, playfully teasing their comrades, coercing others to do things they shouldn't be doing, and engaging in flirtatious behaviours.

She lives with claustrophobia, mild generalised anxiety disorder, insomnia, atypical depression, and borderline personality disorder. To cope with her mental health struggles, she often presents herself as highly intelligent, serious-minded, and seductive. However, when anger takes hold, her emotions can be difficult to contain, although she strives to maintain some self-control. Notably, Eri prefers not to be called by her old name as it evokes memories of her past trauma, which she’s trying to desperately forget. She's a hardened pessimist, often appearing mentally exhausted and emotionally unfazed, yet she consistently demonstrates resilience and stubborn determination. She can't help but feel jealous towards those who have loving parents and weren't abandoned by them. When she's had too much to drink, she becomes prone to argumentativeness, physical aggression, and melancholy, and often sleepwalks.

She has a deep-seated distrust of Christianity, believing that many people hypocritically exploit God and Jesus' teachings to conceal their true intentions. She also thinks that certain Christian teachings clash with the harsh realities of life. Furthermore, she believes that God seems apathetic to humanity's well-being, watching them suffer endlessly, letting evil to continuously flourish, and restricting the potential for salvation. She holds that morality is culturally relative, and therefore, there are no universal moral laws, making it challenging to distinguish right from wrong.

In her view, human societies construct their values based on their distinct beliefs, customs, and practices, which are also influenced by social and emotional pressures. She believes that right and wrong are simply labels and nebulous concepts that nobody can fully grasp because they’re obscured by cultural influences that shape morality to control individuals and prioritise personal comfort. She believes that individuals have a moral obligation to protect innocent lives and uphold the goodness inherent in justice. Regarding war, she thinks it can be justified if it meets certain criteria: it’s openly declared by a governing authority, has a just cause, and aims to establish a lasting peace. She acknowledges the coexistence of life and death but does not see a clear connection between the two.

Backstory: Chizuko Utsunomiya was born on June 6, 2006 in Hiroshima, Japan. She was abandoned as an infant at the entrance of a Christian church by her parents, who had wanted a son instead of a baby girl. Her name was discovered on a piece of paper tucked inside her baby carriage. She was raised by the Christian church where she was sent to live, an institution with a strict religious environment. There, children who misbehaved were subjected to psychological reprimands. During Chizuko’s younger years, she acted out as an attention-seeking troublemaker, but was frequently punished through humiliation and isolation in a dark closet.

She would be frequently bullied by children who were considered to be well-behaved and good in the eyes of the church staff. They targeted her for her perceived sinfulness by spreading false rumours about her, belittling her, and vandalising her toys. She endured occasional physical abuse and emotional manipulation by the church orphanage staff who used the threat of eternal damnation to control her behaviour. This treatment had a profound effect on her, making her quiet, nervous, and obedient. As a result, she grew to resent the church, finding its teachings to be at odds with the harsh realities of her own life. She eventually lost faith in God, feeling that He seemed indifferent to human suffering, allowing it to persist without genuine intervention or care.

At the age of 6, Chizuko met Tarma and quickly befriended him after building a sandcastle and searching for worms under a heavy rock. This chance encounter taught her that there were kind people outside of her church community, and she had opportunities to form new connections and discover herself. She met up with Tarma a few more times until he stopped visiting Hiroshima, leaving her feeling alone and sorrowful.

Once she figured out the ways of the world, she escaped from the sanctuary of the church at the age of 12, alongside a small group of friends, eager to taste the forbidden fruit of the world. Seeking vengeance, she and her friends burned down the church orphanage in retaliation for the abuse they had endured. Most of her early life remains private. However, her invigorating and tomboyish nature lended her as a capable leader, founding a gang of street kids. They engaged in criminal activities, primarily petty theft, drug sales, weapon trafficking, and murder.

Details about this period are scarce, but it's known that Chizuko developed a fondness for vodka during this time. She narrowly escaped being taken into custody by the police through financial bribes, avoiding a potential juvenile detention. She would also go through a couple of romantic relationships with girls. Her first relationship was short-lived after she quickly discovered that her girlfriend was using her for financial gain. Her second relationship seemed to be going well, but it ended when her girlfriend's parents found out about her being a delinquent and forbade their daughter from seeing her again.

At 15, she reunited with Tarma after he ran away from home, inviting him to hang out and drink beer and vodka. As they caught up on each other's lives, she began to flirt and get physically close, seeing him as someone she could trust. However, Chizuko’s desire to escape the past and run away from her problems clouded her judgement. They spent many nights together, engaging in erotic activities, and she even convinced him to participate in a few crimes. But everything changed when Tarma abruptly ended things and returned home to Hokkaido. Devastated, she felt betrayed, despite having used him to fulfill her own desires and advance her gang interests. This experience explains her lingering animosity towards Tarma.

Her leadership skills and her gang had continued to grow successfully, but that success was short-lived. Two months before she turned 18, Hiroshima was suddenly attacked by multiple bombings from a mysterious group, resulting in the loss of thousands of lives, including her entire gang—her first true friends. This incident sent the Japanese populace into a deep state of panic and uncertainty. In the chaos, she also suffered a devastating injury, losing her left forearm. With quick thinking, she managed to improvise a tourniquet by tearing the sleeves of her medium-sleeved shirt and stemming the bleeding.

While treating her injury, she was approached by a brown-haired, grey-eyed woman wearing the attire of a Ptolemaic guerilla. This guerrilla fighter didn't want to leave Chizuko behind, knowing she would feel terrible if left alone. So, she convinced Chizuko to come with her to meet up with Ptolemaios. Chizuko was hesitant at first, but with no other options, she took the opportunity. The guerrilla introduced herself as Emily Kuznetsova, and Chizuko decided to adopt a new name: Eri Kasamoto.

Unbeknownst to her, Ptolemaios had been observing Eri for some time, recognizing her potential as a valuable asset for his army. She was first showered with excessive attention and affection by Ptolemaios' most devoted followers. Afterwards, they subjected her to an initiation ritual where she was forced to consume the heart of a deceased baby goat in the name of the Dark Lord and drink Ptolemaios' blood. He arranged specialised training for her to enhance her espionage skills and expand her militant capabilities, focusing on shock tactics and demolitions.

Once she received sufficient training, he appointed her as one of his deputies, sparking jealousy among a few of the other deputies in the Ptolemaic Army. On his behalf, she was responsible for multiple stealth missions to further the technological advancement and tactical plans of the Ptolemaic Army. She would also carry out targeted assassinations of traitors on Ptolemaios' behalf, which would often result in him rewarding her with bottles of premium vodka and, notably, her two prized black steel armlets.

During this time, Emily's compassionate and courageous nature won Eri over, and she developed a strong romantic attraction towards her, which would eventually blossom into a full-blown relationship. Ptolemaios viewed Emily as a potential obstacle to his objectives and sought to eliminate her, motivated in part by his suppressed and secret sexual attraction to Eri. Emily's death was staged to appear as a suicide, with her disemboweled body found in a dumpster, however, the circumstances surrounding her death remain unclear.

Two deputies—Elite Special Forces Commander Zoilo and Lieutenant Colonel Macba—observed Eri's struggle to cope with Emily's death and offered her superficial comfort. However, in a devastating and traumatic turn of events, Eri was brutally sexually assaulted by the three deputies, driven by resentment over her close bond with Ptolemaios and the favouritism he displayed towards her. Eri's experiences, including the loss of Emily and the traumatic assault, had a profound impact on her, fueling her feelings of grief and anger, and prompting her to re-evaluate her involvement with the Ptolemaic Army. Memories of Zoilo, Macba, and Ptolemaios’ cult ignited intense anger and a desire for revenge against the Ptolemaic Army as well as self-loathing for her own complicity. Conversely, thoughts of Emily would intensify her longing for vengeance while also filling her with profound sorrow and existential despair.

She formed an alliance with like-minded individuals who shared her vision of opposing Ptolemaios' regime, recognizing that his ambitions posed a significant threat to global stability and universal security. They also sought to prevent Ptolemaios from summoning the Avatar of Evil, fearing its awakening could trigger a catastrophic apocalypse. The group consisted of six guerrilla troops: Mikuláš (Czech), Hye-Jin (Korean), Konrad (German), Dezső (Hungarian), Zanokuhle (Xhosa), and Harvie (British); four snipers: Amilcare (Italian), Efterpi (Greek), Souma (Japanese), and Gerasim (Bulgarian); and eight special forces operatives: Kemalettin (Finnish), Jaroslavas (Lithuanian), Dermot (Irish), Anuradha (Bengali), Shelomit (Jewish), Franjo (Croatian), Yohanes (Indonesian), and Radovan (Macedonian).

During their fight against the Ptolemaic Army, they caused significant setbacks on the enemy's military advancement, hindering weapons development and army growth, while also eliminating numerous soldiers and cultists. As Eri clashed with Macba, she uncovered a stunning revelation: he, along with Ptolemaios, Colonel Hilde Garn, and 1st Lieutenant Wired, were behind the terrorist bombings in Hiroshima. As she attempted to take Macba’s life, a seemingly malevolent presence intervened, halting her progress. Ominous whispers echoed in her mind, cautioning her that it wasn't yet time to end the Ptolemaic Army’s reign of terror. Uncertain and intimidated, she and her rebel Ptolemaic soldiers retreated from Ptolemaios' Osaka compound, fearing the consequences of defying the mysterious presence. This decision would become a deeply regretted moment, one that she tried to suppress by viciously stabbing the palms of her hands.

Shortly after this event, she ripped off the sleeves of her purplish-grey coat to use as makeshift tourniquets for Yohanes and Efterpi. She then intentionally acquired her top scars as a symbol of empowerment, seeking to erase the past, defy societal expectations imposed on women and girls, and embody her true identity. Around this time, she pledged loyalty to Sol Dae Rokker, harnessing his vengeance-fueling abilities to drive her determination to overthrow the Ptolemaic Army when the opportunity arose. Following this allegiance, she and her team of Ptolemaic defectors renounced their former loyalty, removing their armbands bearing the Ptolemaic Army insignia and dedicating themselves to just causes and the worship of Sol Dae Rokker.

Although she harboured resentment toward her parents after learning from a church orphanage staff member that they had abandoned her for selfish reasons, she was curious to learn about them. She conducted research into her heritage and made some intriguing discoveries. She learned she has a younger brother, Masahiko Utsunomiya, who works as an electrical technician. Additionally, she uncovered information about her extended family: her biological father had passed away and her biological mother had remarried and had two more sons. Her research also revealed a notable ancestor, Tsuneo Rokumeikan, her great-grandfather, who designed the Murder Model-1915 .38 Mk.1Am handgun and worked as a mercenary for the Intelligence Agency.

At the age of 20, she and her team decided to apply for military service, working under the Intelligence Agency as a formidable group of agents. Eri made a name for herself in numerous missions, earning a reputation as a vengeful leader amongst the Regular Army. She was known for eliminating numerous individuals, including treacherous soldiers and corrupt politicians, with some of her most notable assignments involving strategic seduction that lured her targets into vulnerable positions. However, she began to feel increasingly disillusioned by the constant assassinations and conspiracies that weighed on her conscience, reminding her of her time with the Ptolemaic Army. She applied for a transfer to S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., which was specially approved due to her exceptional record, indispensable skills, and intimate knowledge of the Ptolemaic Army's inner workings.

As the demolition and stealth expert of S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., Eri led her rebel Ptolemaic soldiers with immense success. She befriended Fio and felt an instant, deep connection after a few interactions, viewing Fio as the younger sister she never had and vowing to protect her at all costs. She vividly remembers the time when she and Fio took Tarma's custom-built motorcycle for a test drive in the desert, only to have Fio, who was behind the handlebars, lose control and crash. Fortunately, they escaped with minor injuries, but the incident profoundly heightened her protective instincts towards Fio, leaving her with a lingering fear of losing her. Ever since, whenever someone else is driving, she's gripped by uncontrollable anxiety, haunted by the possibility of another accident.

She played a crucial role in the Great Morden War by providing Marco's team with explosives, emergency rations, and valuable intel on Rebel Army positions through stealthy infiltration. Eri showcased her advanced combat and leadership skills by helping to thwart Morden's second coup, which was aided by her team, Fio, Tarma, and Marco.

[galactic-glamour-girl-posts]

And now, an essay about Dot Warner because I have nothing better to do

In the series bible for Animaniacs, Dot is described as:

"everything that all animated female characters have never been"

Was that true at the time?

I think so, and Here's Why

Before I begin, I'd like to mention this is mostly gonna revolve around western animation...and by "western" I mean "not anime". Okay? OK.

Part 1 : Her design

I'll start by comparing Dot's design to the design of many other female animal cartoon characters that came before her, because a lot of them are...not great. For context, Animaniacs (and therefore Dot herself) debuted in 1993. At the time (and after) when it came to animal cartoon characters, guys would often be designed as "the default" or "the norm", and girls would be given extra visual signifiers to make it clear that they are, in fact, girls. Stuff like human-like hair, and/or really long eyelashes, and/or human-like body parts such as hips and breasts so they needed to be fully clothed, and/or smaller noses and mouths than the guys to make them look "cuter", and/or permanent makeup, etc.

Let's take The Chipettes for example:

They barely look like chipmunks! They're basically human girls with chipmunk noses! Their-I guess it's probably fur-looks pale enough to pass as white skin, they have human lips, even human hair. Their hair doesn't even match their "fur" colour, which makes it look like skin even more. I know it's a cartoon, I don't expect them to resemble real chipmunks completely, but I should still be able to recognise them as chipmunks, shouldn't I? Just look at them compared to the boys, it's jarring:

Although at least in their case, both the guys and girls are in full outfits rather than just the girls.

Gadget's probably another one of the best examples (pre-1993) of what I'm talking about (she has human hair and a more human-like body and hence needs a full outfit, meanwhile Chip and Dale do not), but Toodles is also a pretty good example (she has smaller, more human hands than Tom's, permanent makeup, really long eyelashes, and her figure even more human than Tom's). Even if they weren't in full outfits they usually were made to look more human:

Female animals were constantly given more human attributes than the guys, usually just to make them look "prettier". Honestly a lot of female animal characters are still designed this way.

Meanwhile guys can look as cartoony as possible and go around in half-complete outfits no problem, because they were drawn to be funny talking animals, not conventionally attractive human/animal hybrids:

Then in some cases they'd just take one of the pre-existing male characters, add a bow or skirt or eyelashes or something, and BOOM! A "new" character:

Yeah they have no human hair and have cartoony proportions, just like the guys...but they didn't have to make them look just like the guys to do that. I prefer these over the previous examples but...actually creative designs would be nice.

Now let's look at Dot:

See this? This is nice.

She has no human hair (the hair on her head is just more of her fur), no permanent makeup, no eyelashes needed to signify "she's the girl" (she's only drawn with eyelashes for comedic effect or when she's trying to look extra cute), no curves or hips, and isn't fully clothed and goes around with no shirt like Yakko, because she's a funny talking animal and should look like one, not a human girl.

Now let's compare her to her brothers:

She's a different height, has no whiskers, a slightly different head shape, and has longer but not human-like hair. She looks similar enough to look related to them, but she's not just Yakko or Wakko in a skirt.

For this section I'm mostly just talking about animated animal characters, but I also want to mention that even with human characters male leads often were allowed to look round or blocky or basically any body type, and didn't have to look conventionally attractive; but female leads were almost never designed to look as cartoony, and were often drawn to look as conventionally attractive or cute as possible by being given more (even if just slightly) realistic proportions, and were usually of the same body type.

Now, the three human examples I showed aren't actually bad designs. Honestly, on their own, they're good designs! But they're once again showing that there was a clear difference regarding how guys were drawn vs how girls were drawn.

Dot's cute but they don't draw her anymore realistically than they do her brothers nor is her cuteness over-exaggerated by giving her more human attributes than necessary to make her as conventionally pretty as possible. She's anthropomorphic, but no more so than her brothers.

Part 2 : Her personality

Now, there were of female leads before Dot where the tropes I mentioned don't apply and whose designs are unique, like for example Olive Oyl, who's allowed to look wacky (stick thin and not curvy, lanky with noodle arms, circular head, large hands and feet) and Penelope Pussycat, who's allowed to look like an anthropomorphic, but still cartoony cat and not too human. So what I talked about before wasn't the case every time.

But then you have to consider their personalities (or sometimes, lack thereof).

Many animated female leads were flat characters compared to the male leads, often because they fell under cliché tropes.

Some of the most prominent being: the token love interest, the eye candy, the damsel in distress, or the sensible one because "girl", who would often mostly just exist to set up punchlines the male characters would deliver.

Of course this didn't apply to every animated female lead, especially not by the early 90's, but it was still the norm.

Even Babs Bunny, who predates and is similar to Dot whilst being a good character in her own right, falls under the token love interest trope (also her design is basically a pink Buster in bows, although in her case that was intentional given that their "No relation" catchphrase was meant to poke fun at the "male and female love interests look and are even named suspiciously similarly" trope, so for her it works). Basically in some cases they'd just staple these tropes onto decent characters who didn't really need them.

However, Dot doesn't fall under any of these categories. She's the younger sister so obviously she couldn't be a love interest, I just went over the fact that she wasn't designed to be eye candy, just cute but not in an over-exaggerated way, and she wasn't just cute to look appealing. Her cuteness benefited her character; either by the shock value of seeing a cute little girl swear or scare Satan or something like that, or by Dot using her cuteness fool foes (or at least make them look bad). She could hold her own in any situation and although both her and her brothers were captured a few times on the show, they escaped pretty easily each time. The one time she alone got kidnapped she basically saved herself, so I wouldn't count her as a damsel in distress because it never really feels like she's in real danger; the audience knows she's got this.

Most of all, she was definitely not the sensible one of the group. Sure she'd get annoyed when Yakko and Wakko did the Hello Nurse bit, but she was just as bad, and would react the same way whenever she came across a cute guy. She was of course written this way on purpose, she is very bit as wacky and silly and chaotic as her brothers. It didn't matter that she was the "cute one", she would go off-model if it meant she could make a funnier face. She'd gladly join in on tormenting their "special friends", without worrying about if their feelings got hurt or preaching that they should all try to get along. She'd gladly indulge in excessive violence. She'd gladly mess about and wreak havoc just as much as her brothers. I'm all for smart female characters (Dot is smart after all), but in a main group of guys and at least one girl, a girl doesn't have to be the sensible one every time.

It's no secret that Dot was written to be feminine. At the time, characters that were written to be very feminine often were written to fit within gender norms, meaning many were: passive, demure, soft-spoken, gentle, wide-eyed and innocent, and/or sensitive, etc; or at the very least more so than the masculine characters.

But Dot just wasn't any of those things. She was assertive, confident and acerbic, loud and outspoken, often acted more violent and angry then her brothers, witty, is as lustful and dirty-minded as her brothers, and doesn't get her feelings hurt easily and will instead pretend to be extremely upset/hurt for sympathy or for dramatic effect.

Before and around about the time of Dot's debut, if animated female leads were given personalities that broke many gender norms (and that already wasn't too common), they'd usually be tomboys. Now let me be clear, there is nothing wrong with tomboys. They're just as valid as girly girls and deserve to be and should be depicted in a positive light in animation, but this perpetuated the idea that to be tough and/or wacky, you had to be masculine, which just isn't true.

Dot was wacky and tough but still feminine and was by no means a tomboy, and I think that's important! She liked to look pretty, she liked pink and dresses and flowers, but she also made silly faces, liked to play rough and was more than willing to beat the living daylights out of someone who was asking for it.

Female characters in cartoons often either had decent personalities but their designs were lacklustre, or vice versa. Sometimes both their designs and personalities were lacklustre. Sometimes neither was a problem but their character was held back by having some trope forced onto them because "girl". Dot was a (at the time) rare case of none being the case whilst not having to sacrifice her femininity to be wild and strong.

Part 3 : Her role

By 1993, even if a female character had a good and unique design that didn't come with double standards and had a well-written personality that didn't submit to too many gender stereotypes, they were often:

A - An antagonist

I'm not saying these characters aren't bad people, but a lot of the time when we did get a fun female character, she was a villain.

Also (for this next point I'm not really talking about the three examples above), sometimes they were the only female characters in their show/movie/etc to go against gender stereotypes, which just perpetuates the idea that female characters breaking gender norms is wrong.

B - Essentially a clone of a male character

They'd act exactly like one of the male leads with minimal personality differences (those differences usually being more gender stereotypes) between the two, if there were any; again perpetuating the idea you had to be masculine to be wacky and/or tough.

Basically a distaff counterpart, or a half-identical twin, stuff like that.

C - Less important

Even when we did get a well-written, well designed female animated character who didn't fall under tropes associated with gender stereotypes, chances were she'd be a side character, or at the very least perceived as less important than the male leads.

I'll just use one example for this section since it's a lot more broad in terms of scope; Granny from Looney Tunes. She's one of the most well known female Looney Tunes characters, but even she was never really the "star" of the cartoons she was in. They're not called "Sylvester, Tweety, and Granny" cartoons, they're called "Sylvester and Tweety" cartoons. Even the show that was about Granny solving mysteries, what was it called?

But Dot doesn't fall under any of these categories. She's not a side character, she's not even a tritagonist, she's a protagonist. Yakko may have been the leader, but all the Warners acted as a unit and were presented as just important as each other. We call them "Yakko, Wakko and Dot", "The Warner Brothers, and the Warner Sister", etc.

I've already mentioned that's she's not designed as a clone of Yakko or Wakko, but she also had a distinct personality. She was more anger-prone than Yakko, she was wittier than Wakko, and she had a way bigger ego than both of them combined!

Dot's definitely not an antagonist, she wasn't a saint and she may have been chaotic, but you're meant to root for her. The people she and her brothers would go up against in their cartoons were often jerks, bullies, pompous, etc. Meanwhile the Warners had a strong sense of justice and morality. They weren't malicious (to people who didn't bother them at least), they just liked acting silly. When viewers saw Dot unapologetically being herself without conforming completely to how society thinks a cute little girl should act like, they weren't meant to hate her or love to hate her or anything like that, they were just meant to like her and laugh.

Part 4 : Today

There will probably always be room for improvement when it comes to female representation in cartoons, I mean, a lot of the tropes I mentioned are still commonly used (although I must stress that not all of them are inherently bad). However, it's better today than it was back then. We've gotten tons of well designed female leads over the past 30 years with three-dimensional personalities, ones who are gender non-conforming but still heroic, or who are strong but still feminine, or who are allowed to look and act as wacky as the guys on their show (if not more so), you get the idea.

I'm not saying Dot is the first good animated female character (or that her character was handled perfectly in the original Animaniacs-it wasn't), we all know that's not true, but she defied many tropes that so many animated female characters before her fell under, through her design, personality AND role. Notice that a lot of other animated female leads that also do that (both the examples I gave and any extra ones that you can think of) most likely debuted after Dot did.

To be 100% honest, you could argue that, even as of 1993 (or I guess 1991 considering that's when the series bible was written), describing Dot as "everything that all animated female characters have never been" is debatable, but I do think there was some truth to that statement at the time. I can't say for sure that she was a trend setter when it came to how girls in cartoons were handled, but I'll always appreciate the fact that her character turned out the way it did in spite of when she was created.

[luffyvace]

MACHI RELATIONSHIP HCS CUZ I LOVE HER

i’m doing this with female reader in mind but i have absolutely nothing against if someone wants a machi x male reader!! (plus i haven’t done female reader yet)

in troupe reader!!

this probably won’t be spoiler free btw

machi as a s/o is very caring and cautious about your safety

even though your in the troupe and she knows you can handle yourself she’ll keep an eye out for you

no matter how strong—stronger than her even

thats just how she is, if she gets a hunch she’ll come running

not literally—just to seem collected- but she would definitely internally worry if you don’t come back way after the time you were supposed to

if were talking after pakunoda died that’ll definitely heighten

she’ll be slightly more paranoid for you

if you’ve been in the troupe a long time you’ll notice these things

but if you were a replacement for a founding member you may or may not notice depending on your skill

its highly likely you do though, since all the troupe members are above average strong, whether in nen, resources, intelligence, gadgets, whatever!

machi would make sure you eat, drink & sleep properly

she’s a very caring lover

shes also the type to be very blunt though

dont take it to heart she means well by it

i feel if your in a relationship with her she trusts you a lot, so you probably own a apartment somewhere together

she’s decent at cooking

but if your a terrible cook she won’t mind because of her living conditions growing up

that doesn’t mean she won’t judge and give criticism though

how else will you improve? in her eyes

she’ll eat it but she’s still picky about it

teaches you what she knows about flavoring/seasoning (or whatever she doesn’t like about it)

i know she would be good at giving massages

but she will expect some in return

she keeps the house clean and expects you to, too

she’s used to living in clutter from childhood but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like cleanliness 🙄

if your a slob she’ll scold you but still clean the place up herself

she gets up early

like at the crack of dawn

she’s a get things done woman

when she goes to bed varies depending on your troupe missions, how tired she is, etc

she’ll probably wake you up early too but won’t care much as to when you go to bed

unless your health starts declining because of it

then she’ll start forcing you to go bed real early

like 7-8 pm

she doesn’t care if your a grown woman or not

she’s not loosing you all because you refuse to sleep 😒😑

as for dates it won’t necessarily be dates

she’ll just consider it as quality time

stargazing

indulging in your hobbies

her teaching you how to sew your own socks with holes back together

(she rummages through your drawer to find your socks with holes and if they’re dirty she’ll throw them out. if they’re clean they’re now sewn back together)

the troupe knows your together but thankfully it doesn’t put a elephant in the room

especially since y’all don’t do pda

if you try she’ll stop you

shes protective of you though

not really toward the troupe unless they tried to flirt with your fine and dine behind

even then she’d still expect you to handle it yourself and be loyal to her

if a stranger hits on you she be slightly more annoyed

she’s not hot headed though

if they get the message after you say your in a relationship, fine.

but if they keep harassing you?

slice and dice my brother

on another note

at the end of long days she would rest her head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat to lull her to sleep

or vice versa depending on who had a more stressful day

dont talk about it out loud though—especially in front of the troupe. she’ll stop doing it for weeks on end out of embarrassment. with enough time (and stress that built up) she’ll come back to doing it though

if your girly and like to do makeup and hair/skin care routines she’ll do it with you but not every time (skin care more than anything)

and don’t make a big deal or show out of it

but if you wanna sing your favorite songs she’ll have a soft smile on her face

wont sing with you though

also

she’ll shower/bath with you—but in a comfortable n casual way yknow?

no funny business just genuinely showering

scrubbing each other’s backs and scalps

massaging each other’s muscles

rubbing lotion into each other’s skin

then passing out early after changing into some comfy pajamas from the aroma of said lotion

life as her girlfriend is very domestic and relaxing really

[eris-snow]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, they don't get together at the end, angst, undercover

"Hero/n, Dynamight, your job is to infiltrate tonight's gathering as newlyweds find evidence of his crimes, and apprehend him swiftly." Oh, no.

The door to the limousine opens.

You take one step in, see a flash of blond hair, crimson red eyes and a surprised scowl before you backtrack 5 steps away.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Bakugou scoffs, folding his arms. "Fucking nice to see you too, Shortie."

"Get in, Hero/n. Lives are at stake." Aizawa says glaring at you from the shotgun seat.

Grudgingly, you took your seat beside the blond, dipping your head gracefully as you slammed the door shut. "I thought you were in America this weekend." You mumble, fidgeting with your dress's helm. "For that Top 10 Hero gala thing."

"That's what everyone else thinks." He mutters, facing the window on his side. "Thought you'd be able to distinguish real from fake news, Y/n. Quit fucking around."

Your hands clench into fists as the car starts to move. "Couldn't help but hope." You reply through gritted teeth.

Bakugou and you had broken up nearly 3 years ago, and you'd never expected to see him like this. No, not when you were on an undercover mission to potentially die.

Being trapped with Bakugou in a single car is going to kill you much faster.

"Eraser, why is he here?" You hiss, glaring at the underground hero. "I thought you were gonna pick someone who was part of the agency. Not the flashiest, most wanted hero on this goddamn planet!"

Bakugou glares at you with those piercing eyes. "Look if I knew I'd be working with you for this assignment, I'd never have taken the job either, okay?"

Bakugou hasn't seen you in years. Yes, he knew that you were somewhere on the planet, kicking ass, but with his life-long goal of claiming the title of the Number 1 Hero, your hidden disappearance and the area you'd chosen to specialise in, it was almost too easy to let himself get buried in work to distract himself from you.

But here you are.

After being over several miles away from you, the both of you were now only inches apart.

"Shut up, both of you." Eraserhead snapped. "I assumed you've read the file, but I'll reiterate it for you as a reminder. The murderer, Kage Tanuki has escaped America's security and fled to Japan to flee his death sentence. His quirk, as you might be familiar with is called Truth. It allows anyone he comes into skin contact with to believe anything he tells them to. Your job is to infiltrate tonight's gathering as newlyweds-"

"Oh my fucking god,"

"-find evidence of his crimes, and apprehend him swiftly." Aizawa notices you staring at Bakugou unblinkingly and reads your mind.

"Hatsume has designed Bakugou a gadget that prevents anyone from recognising him as the Number 2 Hero, but it's tailored to only his body. That's why we still had you wear contacts and go in with a disguise."

Eye contacts. No wonder your eyes look weird. You still look great, beautiful like a rose, but he misses the old you under those layers of makeup.

A rose still has thorns, though.

Aizawa's strong stare from the rear-view mirror has the both of you sitting up straighter. "Hero/n, you are undeniably the best in the underground heroes' department. Dynamight, you have talent and skills that allow you to adapt quickly. I expect this mission to be conducted with nothing but utmost professionalism. Understood?"

There's a beat of silence before you utter words back to your teacher, "You still haven't told me why he's gone and replaced Monoma."

Bakugou does a double take, finally whipping his head to face you.

"I replaced Copying Bastard?"

You rolled your eyes, looking up to meet his. "Yeah. He was supposed to be my partner this evening if he hadn't gotten himself nearly killed in his last assignment."

Eraser sighs. "The both of you have had a prior relationship. Agency's said that they wanted it to look more natural. Not to mention Monoma's untimely injuries had us scrambling to find a suitable replacement. Thanks to Bakugou's swift response, we managed to change the documents in time before the fiasco got noticed."

"THAT'S PRECISELY WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE SOMEONE ELSE TAKE THE DAMN JOB," Bakugou booms, slumping down in his seat with a groan.

Aizawa raises a quizzical eyebrow, before his eyes narrow. "What did I say about professionalism?"

"Fine," You spit out, as the car pulls over into a beautiful mansion. "We'll do the damn job. But I want compensation for the lack of communication on my end."

Aizawa smiles cryptically, "Don't worry, I'm sure the agency will plan many compensations once they know how badly they fucked this up."

--

It's almost comical how awkward Bakugou feels about you. His arm is looped around your waist intimately, firmly pressed against your body as a sign of protection even though he knows you don't need it. Your body is relaxed, eyes soft and sparkling prettily at him with a warm smile he hasn't seen in years.

It's only when he touches your back that he can feel the rigid tension you keep hidden as you beam at the doorman, who identifies you two with a nod of his head. "Ah, yes! The newlyweds, correct?"

You don't even flinch.

Fucking shapeshifter.

The party inside is loud and jarring, making Bakugou curse internally because he doesn't like the noise. He never did fancy parties. He lets you do the talking, the socialising, the mingling. It's almost too easy to fall back into this routine of your broken relationship.

The arm around your waist.

The glare he shoots people when they start to get too overbearing.

God, he wants you back.

"I might need to head to the toilet soon," You sigh, smiling up at him as you place a delicate hand on his bicep. Bakugou knows you too well to know what that actually means.

We should slip away soon.

"Of course, love," He responded, affirming your decision. That sleazy murderer had barely given you two a glance. It would be easier anyway to raid his house for evidence-

"Ah, the Bakugous," A voice interrupts his thoughts, and immediately he feels you straighten up to greet whoever strikes up a conversation with you. "Tanuki!" You greet, "Thank you so much for inviting us here."

Bingo.

"It's wonderful to see the both of you here tonight." He has the nerve to grin, a borderline deranged smile of a serial killer in disguise. Tanuki trains his beady eyes on the blond, "Your wife is absolutely stunning, I must say. You've picked a good one."

If that line hadn't ruffled your feathers, it sure got Bakugou to hate this guy even more. "Yeah? Well, this one's mine." He replies reflexively, tightening his arm around you. "Mind showing us the way to the washrooms? I'd like to freshen up in time for your closing speech."

He feels a surprised grip from your arm as he hides his smug smile. Yeah, fuck you and your pretty dress and makeup, he read the damn file. Just cause he doesn't do undercover missions doesn't mean he can't act.

He's the best at everything.

Tanuki nods his head, mindlessly waving his glass in a vague direction. "Of course. Just go up the stairs and open the 3rd door on your left. Don't be long now!"

You thank him again (while Bakugou does not) as the both of you walk in the direction he pointed you to. "Laying it on thick, huh," You say under your breath as you walk up the stairs together. "Thanks for getting us out of there."

Instantly, heat floods his cheeks as he replays what he had said earlier. Oh, God. The minute you reach the second floor and ensure nobody was there, you finally unlatch yourself from Bakugou's arm, eyes averted and cheeks pinked.

Oh, right. This is just pretend.

Bakugou swallows thickly, averting his eyes. He already misses the fact that you aren't by his side. "Let's find his office."

You find his workroom with ease thanks to the blueprint that was provided by your agency. Unfortunately for you though, it's locked by a card reader. "Let me have a go, I'll blast it open," Bakugou grunts, but one raised eyebrow from you has him backtracking his steps. "What?" He gruffs.

"Your quirk could set something on fire." You explained. "Just imagine what would happen if you end up blowing this entire place up. There're people downstairs too."

"Well then what do you suppose?" he bites back.

You roll your eyes, the soft, accommodating skin you wore downstairs already shredded and discarded. "By using this," you reach into a secret pocket in your dress, pulling out a slim keycard with a sly grin.

Bakugou almost gaps at you. "You shrewd pickpocketer,"

"Sticky fingers," You hum, swiping it across the keypad and swinging the door open with ease.

You're both greeted with the sight of files scattered across the mahogany table, warm, luxurious curtains, and a bookshelf stuffed full of documents. "Jackpot," Bakugou whispers. Stepping into the room, you take one of the files and scan it with widened eyes. "He's forging these files to make his victims' deaths look like an accident."

Bakugou's eyes narrow as he peers over your shoulder. You point at the dates and other parts of a paragraph. "He's making sure nobody knows that there's a connection between him and these esteemed people, that's why there hasn't been enough evidence of him so far!"

"Well, then we have what we need, then!" Bakugou says, gathering the files on the table and holding them close to his chest. "Let's get the hell out of here before anyone finds us-"

As quick as the wind, you lunge at Bakugou and pull him down to hide under the table. Scowling, Bakugou's confusion starts to dissipate in anger, "Oi, what are you-"

"Shh!"

Your hearing must be better than his, because it's only now that he can hear footsteps clambering towards the room.

"Shit," A voice says, slicing through the silence.

Tanuki.

"Someone's been in my office."

The both of you glance at each other, reaching the same realisation at the same time. He looks at you, and you look at him.

And then, you grin.

Bakugou knows what that smirk means.

It's go time.

Shooting to his feet, he held his hands in front of his face with an unhinged grin plastered over his face. "Surprise, Tanuki."

The fight doesn't take long, even though his Quirk was one that was annoying to get around. Then again, the both of you are in sync, the fighting almost looking as if you were dancing around your opponent without even uttering a word. You apprehended him in under 10 minutes.

"We've arrested the murderer." You say, voice strong and authoritative. "We're coming to the meeting spot."

And just like that, it's all over.

Part of him wishes that you could have just kept on going, playing along with the charade and believe that he still has you. But he doesn't.

This is real life and when he goes home that day, he remembers to catalogue every fucking memory in his mind because that was probably going to be the last time he would get to hold you like that.

What he doesn't know is that you too are thinking about everything too, kicking yourself over and over at the feelings that had resurfaced for him. The sensation of just having him hold you tight and feel protected is a feeling you'd buried under layers of suppression.

Sure, Monoma has pretended to be your boyfriend multiple times before, but it's never felt like this. No, when Bakugou did it, there was a spark of warmth that blossomed inside your heart, as if everything was authentic.

If only the night had gone longer, if only you could have talked to him properly.

If only you could just keep...

Playing pretend.

[minevn]

What would the li give mc for a christmas present

Minato: I think Minato would get you guys matching somethings. I personally like matching keychains, with his being a shiba, and yours being your favorite animal. But really anything matching with you would be fine!

Haruto: I think Haruto would give practical gifts, but something that still fits your style. An example being lets say you had cute animal themes gadgets in your kitchen, Haruto would get you another useful animal themed gadget that you didn't have. Also the type to gift you clothes, don't worry he knows exactly what you want.

Jun: Jun handmakes multiple outfits to give you.

Hoshi: Hoshi prefers to just make you food as a gift, that's what he would want as a gift afterall. Literally the way to his heart is through his stomach. But he'd also get you anything you want, even if it's something small or cheap or stupid in his eyes. His least favorite gift to give you would be makeup though, he doesn't care about appearance and thinks you look pretty no matter what. (Please either make him food, get him a new apron, or new utensils.)

Habiki: He'd make an entire spotify playlist for you, BUT NOT JUST THAT! He'd also compose music inspired by you and make an entire playlist of that music with the sappiest nickname you've ever seen in existence(Something you didn't even know was possible for Habiki)

Kage: I think Kage would prefer making a clay model of your favorite anime/cartoon/game character. Figurines are so expensive, why buy one when you can just make one?

Kei: Anything your eyes landed on while he was watching you.

Yani: Yani would give you a piece of itself. The hair in it's brush, it's yours now. A fingernail clipping(Or the entire nail, YOUCH), dried skin, a literal piece of their meat(not that meat), spit in a little container. Very very strange gifts. Would also probably gift herself to you.

Aki: Aki really likes giving nostalgic gifts. It doesn't even need to be from long ago, it could be a picture of a trip you two took that summer. Sometimes though she likes gifting things like familiar looking teddy bears or toys that you two used have and play with all the time. She likes gifting something memorable that you can look back of fondly, something that tells you she pays attention to you and remembers all of your moments together, that she cherishes you.

[topshopupusa]

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[titanorosa]

I’m genuinely curious about why Smoke would be a good fit for Wolfguard, considering he (in my opinion) doesn’t fit their narrative?

Okay I did not proofread this essay, so take it as-is. The essay will be below a readmore since it is a decent length at 766 words.

Also, sources: I have a Bachelor of Science in Chemical and Biological Engineering, and also I made all of this up for fun.

"Why Smoke Would Be A Good Choice For Wolfguard"

By Sarah Murphy

Since the beginning of Year 7 for Tom Clancy’s Rainbow 6 Siege, Team Rainbow has been split into smaller squads. These squads consist of Ghosteyes, Viperstrike, Redhammer, and most importantly for this essay Wolfguard, a humanitarian military unit. Five Rainbow operators left to join Nighthaven before the formation of these squads, including James “Smoke” Porter. While he is now with the PMC Nighthaven, I believe that if Smoke was still with Rainbow he would be a good fit for Wolfguard. His areas of expertise, along with his personality and psychological makeup would all make him a good choice for this team. Some may say that his gadget would make him more suited for a squad like Ghosteyes or Redhammer. However, I think he has what it takes to be on Wolfguard. Smoke’s specialty is chemistry, but based on his biography he has a large field of knowledge with a focus on biochemistry and toxicology. This would be beneficial for a team like Wolfguard whose focus is on medicine and humanitarian efforts. In the real world, when there are mass-casualty events that involve toxic chemicals and nerve agents, one of the main reasons that casualties tend to be high is that it can be difficult to figure out the agents that were used and then administer the proper treatment. Having someone whose expertise is in toxicology and biochemistry would round out the team in response to bioweapons and chemical threats, especially since groups such as the White Masks have been shown in-universe to utilize chemical weapons in attacks on civilian institutions (see Bartlett University). Wolfguard could benefit from an expert in toxicology, and Smoke would be a good candidate for this position. It is not just his skills, but also his personality that would make Smoke a good fit for Wolfguard. According to his biography and psychological profile, he excels in scientific fields and is able to handle tense situations. Some would consider him reckless, however if one were to look at the information that is provided with his elite skin (Sanguine Arsenic), this recklessness allows him to take risky actions for the benefit of others. The accompanying art for the elite skin shows him escaping a house fire after rescuing a child who was in the burning building. He takes calculated risks according to Harry’s psychological report, which can be beneficial during mass-casualty events where every moment counts. His innovative personality and breadth of knowledge would be beneficial for the variety of situations that Wolfguard faces, especially if they relate to his field of toxicology. Some may think that Smoke would not be a good fit because of his gadget. While the words “Geneva Convention Violations” are frequently brought up in relation to Smoke’s gas canisters, they did not disqualify him from being on Rainbow in the first place, so liberties must be taken in the Siege universe in regards to gas weapons. Also, the same argument does not seem to be applied as frequently to Frost, who is on Wolfguard. When it comes to gadgets, they are just not a very good argument about what is acceptable. There might be other arguments against Smoke being a good candidate for Wolfguard, but his gadget should not be taken as one of them. In conclusion, there are many reasons that Smoke would be a good fit for Wolfguard. His background in chemistry would be a good fit for helping during humanitarian military operations. While some may consider his personality to be a bad fit for Wolfguard, he does have what it takes to be a part of this squad. Also, when it comes to whether Smoke’s gadget would disqualify from Wolfguard, that doesn’t seem like a very sound argument. While it is unlikely that Smoke and the other Nighthaven operators would rejoin Rainbow, should that ever occur, I hope I have made it clear that Smoke would be a good fit for Wolfguard.

[hughiecampbelle]

Forgive me and my many asks about baby mattson and Roman I just have feelings oaky but back in like the mid 1780s this thing popped up called a ‘lovers eye’ pendants. It was a pendant painted with just the eye of a persons love so like no one but the wearer would know, who it is or what it’s for.

Baby mattson makes one of Roman’s eye for herself when ya know, they are all hiding there romance still and wears it on a choker and Roman has one of baby mattsons eye, that baby also made just

“If we can’t say we’re together yet, this can be our secret. It was big in the 1780s, a sneaky rebellious way to say you had a lover without saying who.”

Roman keeps his as a keychain almost, he looks at it a lot.

Babys is on a like choker necklace like one of those cool velvet ones that is very vampire aesthetic chic.

I like to think baby mattson is very into Victorian and Edwardian fashion and history and does lots of the tricks and art of those eras.

Meaning she def makes mourning jewelry with hair or teeth, and has memento Mori rings and Victorian hair art pieces she sells all over the world for people. She sells recreation and safe for the skin beauty products that would have been made in the Victorian and Edwardian times.

She has the vintage dress down and has many vintage/Victorian home pieces in her apartment in both new York and Sweden. And Roman is both terrified and let’s her tell him all about the gadgets and hair tools and beauty powders.

I LOVE BABY MATTSON AND ROMAN A LOT OKAY okay.

No my love, I love all your asks!!! I don't mind at all!!! Yesss I've seen them on tiktok and I absolutely love them!!!! Those big brown eyes make Baby Matsson melt!!! He can't help but smile to himself whenever he looks at the keychain, reminded that he loves them and they love him 💞 HE LOVES TO LISTEN TO THEM!!!! You know Lukas just waves them off like idc about creepy jewelry and dead looking makeup but Roman has all sorts of questions and once, just once, lets them do his makeup lol. I LOVE THEM!!! Xoxoxo💜💜💜

[imsparky2002]

Batraculous: Macabre Bat

Character Name: Eri Tanaka

Miraculous Hero Name: Macabre Bat

Appearance: Eri, known as Macabre Bat, carries a striking and dramatic appearance. Her waist-length, straight black hair flows with an air of elegance. She has moderately pale skin that contrasts beautifully with her almond-shaped brown eyes, although she often wears violet-colored contacts to add a dramatic touch. Eri possesses a petite and slender build that complements her gothic style. She dresses in full gothic lolita attire, adorned with black and lace, and she's rarely seen without her signature parasol.

Bio: Eri prefers she/her pronouns and proudly embraces the label of "gothic lolita." Despite her gothic appearance, she is incredibly perky and energetic, exuding a loud and friendly demeanor. Her manner of speaking is dramatic, which suits her well for theater but can sometimes make social interactions challenging. Eri serves as Juleka's motivator alongside Rose, encouraging Juleka to embrace her gothic self and affectionately referring to her as the "Queen of Darkness." She also has a passion for special effects and dreams of working in CGI when she's older.

Batsuit Description: Macabre Bat's batsuit is a dramatic and gothic masterpiece, reflecting Eri's love for the dark and theatrical.

Cowl: Eri's cowl is designed to resemble a porcelain doll's face, complete with intricate gothic makeup and violet contact lenses. It adds to her theatrical persona and contains a built-in voice modulation system, allowing her to project her voice dramatically and command attention. The cowl also has high-tech optics that enhance her night vision.

Cape: Her cape is a flowing black garment with lace trim and intricate patterns reminiscent of Victorian-era fashion. It billows dramatically as she moves, adding a touch of eerie elegance to her presence. The cape can transform into shadowy tendrils that grant her limited teleportation abilities, allowing her to navigate through shadows with ease.

Armor: Macabre Bat's armor is form-fitting and adorned with gothic motifs, such as bats, skulls, and roses. It's made from lightweight yet durable materials, providing protection from physical and akuma threats while allowing for flexibility and agility. The armor includes retractable bat-shaped blades on her forearms for close combat.

Gadgets: Her utility belt contains gadgets suited for her gothic style and love for special effects. Eri carries dark smoke capsules that release an eerie, black mist to obscure vision and create a foreboding atmosphere. She also has a specialized holographic projector that can create ghostly illusions to confuse and deter akumas.

Macabre Bat's batsuit is a work of art that embodies Eri's gothic style and dramatic personality. With her passion for theater and special effects, she brings a unique flair to the Miraculous heroes of Paris, adding a touch of darkness and mystique to their ranks.

Thanks to ChatGPT for assistance. Make sure to reblog, reply, post and ask for more. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

[tss-grimmverse]

Prologue: Patchouli

tried to forget when i left this town but it takes me right back when i come back around

It was quiet in the tiny motel room.

Not a complete absence of sound; no shared human space could replicate the unique hush of a mushroom ring in a dark forest. Humans were noisy, restless things, forever surrounding themselves with distractions and gadgets to reflect their noisy, restless souls back at them. This room’s sad, gray air conditioner gurgled under the window like a hungry beast, exhaling icy air and dripping condensation. Distant car doors slammed outside; voices chattered; the parking lot buzzed with ambient road noise.

But it was quiet. The tiny TV on the dresser stood black and silent, its remote carelessly tossed on the bed next to a battered red backpack. The clock on the nightstand blinked teal numbers, cheerfully disconnected from anything resembling actual time. In the bathroom, the shower cut off with a squeak and a hiss.

Moments later, Roman stepped out in a cloud of steam, a white towel wrapped around his waist.

He shivered, gooseflesh prickling his bare skin. Cheap motel AC units never worked right; rooms were always either blazing hot or freezing cold. Usually the latter, bitter like lonely nights never spent in the same bed twice. Bleak like too many nightmares and too long running away from them. Cold like Bale territory and the regard of winter faeries.

Roman unfolded a white dress shirt from a shopping bag and spread it out on the bed. His nicest pair of dark wash jeans followed from his backpack, along with clean sneakers and, after some hesitation, his makeup bag. He combed fingers through his damp hair, grimacing at the moisture still dripping down his neck. Removing the towel from his waist, he dried it again before pulling on a pair of boxer briefs. 

He left his sword where it was: spanning the length of his bag, safely tucked away. He’d barely been able to look at the blade since killing Deceit, let alone hunt with it. For…reasons.

He’d get back to hunting one day. He would.

The starched shirt dragged stiffly across skin accustomed to simple cotton. He tucked it in, opened the first few collar buttons, and rolled up the sleeves. He could do fancy when necessary, but a hunter needed freedom to move. Socks, shoes, wallet, keys…and then there was only his makeup left to do.

He carried the small bag into the bathroom and studied his reflection with a critical eye. Messy hair, average brown skin, too-wide mouth, prominent nose, red changeling iris rings…spectacular eye bags.

You look tired, pet, a melodious faery voice whispered in his memory.

“Like looking in a funhouse mirror,” he whispered back, his imagination painting a mustache and ghoulish purple eye makeup. Roman leaned closer and glowered at those dark circles, the inevitable result of too many troubled thoughts and not enough sleep.

Well, that won’t do at all. Bad enough I remind myself of my fetch; at this rate I’ll start looking like old Panic at the…

Long bangs over snapping brown irises flashed through his mind’s eye; smokey eyeshadow against pale skin. A tiny smirk lifting the corner of a mouth, the one that always made Roman’s heart stutter… he pulled back his train of thought and ran a hand over his face.

He won’t be there.

Inhale.

He let out the breath in a huff, the hand over his eyes tightening for a moment, and inhaled again. You are going to this party to support Logan and Patton, and for no other reason. And if they see you like this, after not having seen you for months, they will worry.

He dropped his hand and straightened.

Lift the chin.

Eyes forward.

Focus.

Smile.

Roman forced up the corners of his mouth, seized a concealer tube, and set to work. A little foundation, a hint of blush for color, and only the thinnest of outlining around his eyes to finish the look. This was his friends’ engagement party; it would be rude to show up looking like he was going clubbing. Plus, if Virgil was there, he’d probably make some snide remark…

Roman capped his eyeliner pencil with more force than needed and stalked back into the room proper. No one in his right mind would subject himself to an engagement party between his best friend and his crush. He won’t be there.

Kate would be, though.

I should call her. She deserves a heads up before I crash back into her life at a public event.

Roman pulled out his phone. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d dropped off the face of the earth after killing Deceit, ignoring all attempts to reach him.

Even though Kate lied to him about his father…

Stop. Roman scowled. Deceit wanted to drive that wedge between us. Too bad it had fucking worked…but he wouldn’t be petty. He scrolled to her number and dialed. She was still his foster mother. It was time.

Kate answered on the first ring.

“Roman,” she breathed, sounding so relieved that Roman’s whole face grew hot. It had been weeks since he’d heard her voice, and he hadn’t realized until that moment just how much he’d missed it.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He paced the room, injecting a note of false cheeriness into his voice. “I’m, ah, in town. Was planning to crash Logan and Patton’s thing tonight.”

Silence. Roman could almost hear the gears turning in her head.

Will she lecture, or act like I never left? Sometimes Kate played the part of a stern parent; other times, a commanding officer. Most of the time, however, she was something between an eccentric, cool aunt and best friend. Her authenticity was one of the things Roman valued most in their relationship. He could always be real with her because she was always real with him.

Except, apparently, when it came to my parentage…

He shoved the traitorous thought down. That was not a discussion to be had over the phone.

“You know the party started ten minutes ago, right?” Kate finally settled on.

“You know you should always arrive fashionably late, right?” Roman snarked.

“Whatever, kid.” Her voice softened. “I’m glad you’re okay. I…I’m not gonna lie, I did worry.”

Roman closed his eyes. “Sorry for disappearing and not telling you.”

“You’re an adult; you can make your own choices. I know you needed time after everything.” Kate’s voice dropped. “But next time you feel the urge to vanish? A head’s up for your poor mentor and her poor worried wife would be appreciated.”

In a vain attempt to not show favoritism within her murder, she never called herself his mother. Roman was used to it. Actions spoke louder than words with Kate.

“Noted.” Roman sat on the bed, wondering if the rest of his murder had missed him. If they saw him differently now that they knew who he truly was…

But he’d called Kate for a reason.

“Um, Kate? Is, uh…is Virgil with…I mean, he’s doing okay?” Roman tried to sound casual, and knew he’d failed miserably.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Kate’s tone lightened to something gently amused. “You only called to find out if you were going to run into your beau tonight.”

“He’s just a friend.” Roman’s face heated, and he was glad she wasn’t physically in the room to rib him for it. “And maybe I wanted to hear the sultry sound of your voice as well!”

“I think you were hoping to hear someone’s sultry voice—”

“Kaaaaate.” Roman groaned.

“Oh, both of you are so easy to embarrass.”Kate chuckled. “You really haven’t talked to him in the last two months?” She sounded surprised.

“I haven’t talked to anyone.” Roman paced to the motel window, peeking out onto the depressing parking lot. “I…honestly don’t know if Virgil and I are still on speaking terms after everything that’s happened.”

Kate’s concern radiated over the line so hard he could practically feel it, making him glower.

“Was he thinking about coming to this party?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. He stayed with us to finish recovering and then left Philly a week ago, claiming he would make his own way down. You know how prickly he gets about people paying his way.”

Roman’s heart skipped so hard he missed a breath. “So…that’s a yes.”

“Well, he didn’t clarify if ‘down’ actually meant ‘Florida’ and ‘this party’. Rosa and I only got into Orlando last night, and we haven’t heard from him at all,” Kate went on. “He may show up, he may not. But Roman…I wouldn’t get your hopes up. After the hospital, and these last few weeks especially, he’s looked about one scowl away from hitting the road for good. If he was one of my hunters, I’d have expected to wake up and find him gone weeks ago.”

“Yeah, that’s…not surprising, I guess,” Roman said. He remembered Virgil lying in that hospital bed, bandaged and frail, tubes sprouting everywhere. Anyone would want to run away from that.

Technically, Roman had run away.

“After the party, are you—?” Kate hesitated. “Are you coming home? If you still need more time, that’s fine, but—”

“How can I, Kate?” Roman closed his eyes. “How do I walk back into Smile like nothing happened, after what Deceit said back in that castle? About me being…being—”

“Johnny Prince’s son,” Kate finished lowly. “I know. You want to know why I never told you.”

“You recruited me into an organization founded by my own father!” Roman burst out, stalking back to the bed. “How could you not tell me?”

So much for not doing this over the phone.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.” Kate’s voice sharpened. “Imagine growing up with everyone expecting you to live up to a stranger’s legacy. I was planning to tell you once you became a full hunter, Roman, because I wanted you to know you’d earned that on your own merit and not on Johnny’s reputation.”

“And Deceit ruined that,” Roman said bitterly.

“That Unseelie’s name doesn’t deserve space in your mouth,” Kate snapped.

“What are the others going to say?” Roman paced the tiny room. “Johnny’s a fucking legend, even if he did cut and run. I’m just me.”

“It doesn’t matter where you came from or who your father was. All that matters is the man and the hunter you’ve become. You know Smile will always be waiting when you’re ready to come home.” Her voice grew soft.

Roman’s heart pinched. He knew Kate meant he’d always have a home with her…but of course Smile would always be waiting for the son of Johnny Prince, he thought bitterly. How could it not?

“I’ll see you tonight?” she said.

“Yeah,” he echoed. “See you.”

He hung up and let out a long sigh. It does matter where I came from, Kate. Other people will care, whether you think so or not.

“Damn it,” he muttered, only just stopping himself from scrubbing his face and messing up his makeup. Maybe it was just as well he hadn’t been able to track down Johnny. Roman still hadn’t decided if he’d have hugged his old man or punched his lights out.

#

The motel he’d chosen wasn’t far from the park, so Roman elected to burn some restless energy by walking to the party. He stepped onto Woodland Avenue and prowled downtown, passing familiar buildings: the upstairs pool hall, the old yoga studio, that weird underground Christian coffee shop, their little grocery store. Every sight and smell in this town carried memories.

The Main Street diner where the four of them—himself, Virgil, Logan, and Patton— sometimes used to eat was gone, he noted; replaced with yet another generic copycat that would probably only last a few months. Their beloved Santorini’s lived on, thank goodness, loud and lively at this time of night.

Merlin’s Vision, the little witchy shop where Virgil used to work, had moved to a larger corner location. Even after hours, the musky scent of nag champa lingered and clung to Roman’s skin as he slowed, looking at the window display of wands, dragon figurines, and kitschy, stockinged faeries. There’d been a time when Roman associated nag champa with Virgil almost as much as patchouli. Smelling it now brought back a familiar wave of sadness and want.

“One day you will ache for something your stolen power can’t give you. And I look forward to cataloguing all the ways that will destroy you,” his former master crooned in his memory, eyes glinting bright silver.

Roman smiled at the sight of a particular figurine: a knight on a white horse, clad in silver plate, spear leveled at a green dragon curled around a tower. Like many captured changelings, Roman had learned to read in the Hedgerow: a scattered network of Arcadian adults and teenagers who’d taken it upon themselves to educate as many children in faery captivity as possible. He’d always gravitated towards tales of Camelot, of King Arthur and his brave, loyal knights questing for the Holy Grail—which, in Roman’s childhood mind, had been freedom.

“One day you will ache for something your stolen power can’t give you.”

Roman sighed, biting back the sting in his eyes, and tilted his head to stare at the October sky. Maybe coming back here after everything was a mistake.

But Patton made a point to give him the date and time of this party before Roman dropped off everyone’s radar. Patton would be hurt if he didn’t show up, all because Roman couldn’t handle being in a town where every little thing reminded him of one particular person.

I’m tired of running, Roman told himself. When I do see Virgil again…I want to be able to find some closure, whatever that looks like. For both of us. He’d been telling himself the same thing for two months.

He reckoned it was getting easier.

Chin up, eyes on the target.

Roman walked on.

He heard the party before he reached Painter’s Pond; an acoustic version of some vaguely familiar pop song spilled from the trees onto the sidewalk. Roman paused at the park’s edge, a smile pulling at his face. Streamers hung from trees, round tables surrounded one of the park’s open spaces, and tiki torches cast a warm yellow light on knots of milling people. The food table looked thoroughly picked over, but Roman hadn’t come with any expectation of eating.

He scanned the crowd, smiling when he spotted Kate and Rosa twirling each other on the dance “floor”; he remembered when they’d taken swing lessons together. Patton was, amusingly, dancing with Logan’s mother. He didn’t see Logan at all…until he did, and the sight made him draw in a sharp breath.

Logan sat at the table furthest away from the band, leaning back in a chair and talking to someone with long purple bangs, a hunched pose, and a heartbreakingly familiar patched jacket. Roman exhaled again, his heart thrumming into high gear in his chest.

Virgil.

He had to blink several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Virgil showed up after all. But…why?

The last time he’d seen his emo, he’d been stretched out on a hospital bed with his chest all bandaged up, unconscious. Now he was just…here, sitting with Logan like the half-faery hadn’t broken his heart into a million pieces.

Logan looked particularly sharp tonight: hair immaculately braided, gold tie nestled at his throat, his nicer pair of glasses perched on his nose. Roman hated to admit it, but his pansexual ass understood why Virgil had gotten his heart in such a mess over this guy. Logan was smart, poised, and annoyingly, effortlessly sexy, with those cheekbones, that posture that showed off his chest, and those soul-piercing, fae eyes.

He was also a know-it-all, stubborn, and more unforgivingly, an oblivious asshole when it came to other people’s hearts.

Roman ground his teeth when Logan laid a hand on Virgil’s arm, leaning close. Virgil twisted his head away, but to Roman’s surprise, he looked back and said something that made the nerd smile. Familiar, sour jealousy bloomed in Roman’s heart.

Even now, at his own damned engagement party to someone else, Logan just can’t leave Virgil alone, can he?

Logan got up to join Patton on the dance floor, squawking in protest when Patton grabbed his hand and spun him around. Roman took a deep breath, recentering himself, knowing he wasn’t being fair. As much as he hated what this had to be doing to Virgil, Logan and Patton made an objectively adorable couple. Honestly, Patton’s warmth and sweetness were probably exactly what Logan needed to work that metaphorical stick out of his ass.

Virgil remained at the table, alone.

He’d put his back directly to Roman now, making it impossible to see his expression. Was he still pining, even after all this time? Was he here just to torture himself…or did his presence tonight mean he’d finally turned a corner, put the feelings behind him for good? Roman bit his lip, abruptly unsure if he was ready to know.

Now, more than ever, he wanted to melt back into the shadows and pretend he’d never come, Patton’s Disappointed Dad face be damned. The thought of looking into Virgil’s cynical, piercing eyes with their mismatched rings…what would Roman even say to him? The last thing they’d done together was fight, which ended with Roman punching him in the face, and then they’d been too busy dealing with Deceit to even begin to reconcile.

He also remembered that claw, blossoming like a red thorn from Virgil’s…dying, he could have died…

Roman shuddered and covered his mouth, letting the trembling and redness in his vision pass. He couldn’t think about that, not even for a moment, or he’d never sleep tonight. He had to be brave, like Sir Lancelot and Bedwyr the One-Handed and poor doomed Tristan.

Inhale for four.

Hold for seven.

Exhale for eight.

When he could breathe again, he squared his shoulders, took a breath, and walked to Virgil’s table.

Patchouli: grounding

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[variousincorrectxreader]

hii ! i hope i'm not disturbing you or anything but i was wondering if i could get a male aot & arcane matchup ?? if you're not taking any requests or so, please disregard this hehe

i'm 19 ( turning 20 in a few months ew ), an architecture student, pansexual with a more male preference, libra, and my mbti is enfj if you need all that jazz ! hehe

appearance-wise, i have dark brown eyes, long layered wavy-curly hair that's dyed kinda like a golden-brown ( though my original dark brown hair is showing since i haven't dyed my hair in months hekhok ). i am short ( 4'11 - 5'0 😭 ), i have tanned skin, and long black nails as of the moment ! i also wear these transparent-rimmed glasses, though they're mainly used when i use gadgets or read.

for hobbies, i like to create art ( mainly sketch and paint using watercolor now bc of my major ), watch anime, do makeup, play video games, and read books ! i love anything horror, stephen king and junji ito are my favorites in the genre. i also love true crime and psychology ( would've prob taken political science or criminology if i didn't take architecture ) !

personality-wise, people would say i am very sociable, outspoken, and friendly. they also say that i'm funny and very loud ( in a good way! ). i join a lot of organizations in my school and my friends and classmates would always joke about me being the next president or vice-president of our organizations. i call everyone 'babes' or 'babe' and i can easily make friends or joining in the crowd/bond with someone because i am bond to have at least one similarity with the person, may it be from our likes, dislikes, or experiences. my friends also say that i am a 'motherly' type of person; someone who loves love, who is protective, who tries to help in anyway they can, and who will love someone with all of their heart.

ig my type would be nerdy people who can be your best friend HDKSJDKD i don't specifically have a type bc i tend to go from the soft and cute people to the shy or quiet mysterious people HDJAJDKDKS. though, i like the idea of someone balancing me out, so probably a mix of both where like they're my best friend who teases me but they're more quiet and less sociable than me with other people. behind closed doors or when there aren't that much people around, they're romantic and clingy though HEHEHEH

that's all ig HAHHAHA i'm sorry if this is long but i hope you have a great day, babes ! mwah 💋

- 📐 anon

Hi! First off sorry it took so long, I just put off writing shit bc im just so tired. Anyways, im so sorry but I sort of fell out of AOT so I just wrote the arcane one out :( your arcane match up... I pair you with....

VIKTOR

Hes a nerd as well dw.

bro whenever you’re watching a crime show, or anything actually he figures out the plot and he’ll ask you if you want to know all the plot twists 💀💀. Wont tell you if you say no. I feel like he would love watching romance animes with you, he thinks they’re neat.

wont ask you to draw him but will be really pleased if you do, loves watching you play around with water colors, he finds it relaxing.

when hes really busy with hex tech he’ll invite you into his office and let you sit in silence with your head resting on his lap.

you help him socialize, lord knows he needs more friends. Appreciates your outgoing personality bc that means he won’t have to talk much around people at social functions 💀.

wouldn’t mind if you called other people babe or babes but you have to give him a nickname that you call him and only him.

You make sure he isn’t overworking himself and makes sure he’s getting enough rest, specially with his illness :(

since Jayce mainly covers the public appearances he doesnt mind you being clingy since he doesn’t have as high a reputation to hold so he lets you cling to him

you two cuddle up and read your favourite books ranging from fantasy and science based ones (his choice) or horror books (yours)