#//teach her how to sew and mend

[cringe-but-proud]

Could you possibly write headcanons for Wonka meeting a girl who works as a seamstress but truly wants to design her own clothes despite not having much time to fufill that dream with how overworked she is?

As the shop she works at is understaffed while her boss is highly demanding, the seamstress has kind of given up on "silly dreams" to focus on work to make sure she can keep food on the table.

Cuteeeeee. I gotchu.

Willy Wonka x Fem!Seamstress! Reader (Wonka 2023)

A/n: All of this takes place AFTER the movie. I LOVE WRITING HEADCANONS ❤️❤️❤️ My requests are open 🙏

You guys probably met when he came in to your workplace to get a tear in his coat sewn up

You tell him the tear will only take a few minutes to fix up, so he sticks around while you work

Talks to you while you work, which is nice cause customers usually don't say much to you.

He ends up coming in a lot just to mend small tears in his clothes (and cause he likes you)

Insists that YOU have to be the one to mend his clothes. If any of the other seamstresses offer to help him, he declines (politely, of course), and asks for you.

Since he's always in the shop asking you to mend small tears, you offer to teach how to sew, so that he'll be able to do that himself.

He comes to your house after work and you teach him some basics in sewing (you probably have to guide his hands at first 🤭🤭🤭)

At one point, you gift him a new coat cause you know he only has one

He tells you it's the nicest thing he's ever worn and gushes about how good you are at sewing.

You end up telling him about how you'd always wanted to start your own clothing line, but gave up on it and settled for your current job.

He tries convincing you to do it. Goes on his whole "every good thing started with a dream" speech, and it does motivate you a bit.

If you do choose to pursue your dream, he's cheering you on every step of the way.

He's literally your biggest fan. Tells everyone he knows about your work, and buys clothes from you all the time (even though you offer him free clothing a lot)

You ask for his opinion on your designs a lot, sometimes even put on little fashion shows for him.

Though, he might not be the best guy to ask about that, cause he thinks you look gorgeous in everything (AJDBDJJDN)

Overall, very supportive of you and your career and the sweetest guy ever 😽

[agent00ani]

Ok it’s been too long since I’ve spoken about BG3 headcanons. Instead of talking about my Tavs though I’m gonna talk about the companions!

POTENTIAL SPOILERS BELOW!

No Minthara because I have yet to recruit her in one of my games, sorry!!! I love her I just haven’t had the ability to play with her and all that.

Halsin

Halsin does not have sculpted abs. He’s got a stomach. I mean come on he’s literally a bear.

He loves talking about the ecology of the various environments you visit. He knows so much about so many plants and animals and fungi.

If you ask him to, Halsin will braid your hair for you. Social grooming is very important to him.

He loves to play with scratch and the owl bear cub in wild shape. He takes the shape of a wolf most often so he’s not too big.

Halsin keeps a nature journal! It’s like his own private version of inaturalist. He tracks the species he sees and where he sees them.

Gale

Gale is skinny and a bit toned during the start of the game, but as he is encouraged to take better care of himself he puts on some weight.

He is constantly asking Halsin about various creatures and Druidic magic. The man’s a nerd, he’s got so many questions and Halsin is kind and patient enough to actually enjoy answering them. They’re great academic buddies. When Gale becomes a professor he invites Halsin to give lectures on ecology and Druidic magic.

Gale has created spells that allow him to make a magic kitchen while on the road. This way he can use more than a campfire to cook.

He loves to stargaze and will point out his favorite constellations if you ask to join him.

Astarion

While he’s good at mending and sewing, Astarion enjoys making perfume far more. He eventually develops perfumes based on each of the traveling companions.

Astarion teaches the entire camp how to wash blood out of clothing and gear because someone has to. Also he refuses to do everyone’s laundry for them.

He often goes with Halsin to forage for herbs and flowers. It’s a chance to stock up on supplies for his perfumes and also to manipulate bond with the Druid.

Him and Shadowheart often discuss poisons together. They have a secret game early in the adventure where they say how they would poison each member of the group, what poison they would use, and why. When both of them start to feel accepted and cared for they switch to talking about what poisons best represent the group members instead.

Shadowheart

She spends a lot of time at camp by herself, even after rejecting Shar. She values alone time. It also allows her a chance to process what has happened to her and what she has lost.

Scratch sleeps with her most nights after he joins the camp. At first she’s annoyed by it(a ‘pet’ distracts from her mission) but it’s not very long before she’s cuddling with him.

Shadowheart collects trinkets after converting. She wants to surround herself with things she enjoys.

Lae’zel

Since she travels with a grindstone, Lae’zel helps everyone maintain their weapons. Not out of kindness at first, but because her allies being weak and having subpar gear makes her weak. Eventually tho she teaches everyone how to do it themselves to help them be stronger(and because helping people care for their weapons is a friendly gesture).

She develops a special bond with Gale and Shadowheart, as all three were manipulated/used/abandoned by their deities. She doesn’t exactly know how to support the others as the process things, but she is Faerun’s greatest hype man and constantly reminds them that the gods were cruel and foolish for what they did.

Lae’zel and Halsin help each other maintain their braids. Hers are more intricate and decorated but Halsin is more than able to put them in properly.

Wyll

Wyll spends a lot of time with Karlach after he refuses to kill her. At first because he wants to apologize for hunting her and prove he can be trusted, then after the transformation for advice on how to live life with horns, and finally because he just loves to spend time with her.

While he wasn’t exactly “shy” before his transformation, Wyll starts bathing last because his own body has become unfamiliar and he no longer feels comfortable being seen without at least a shirt and some pants on.

When the others realize that he’s struggling with his body more than he lets on they do their best to help in their own ways. Karlach teaches him how to care for his horns properly, Halsin helps him learn how to braid his hair around them, Astarion finds clothing that is not only comfortable and modest but also makes him look really good, Lae’zel helps him adjust to the change in his center of gravity by sparring with him, and Gale tracks down books about teifling/fiend anatomy for him to read.

He’s really good with children. When Arabella and then Yenna join the camp he spends his evenings keeping them company, telling them stories, playing with them, etc. Karlach often joins him.

Karlach

She makes use of her unnatural heat to help with as many things around camp as she can. Drying clothes, cooking, heating water for bathing, being cozy when it’s especially cold, etc. because if she can do good things with the engine it feels less like a curse.

Once she can touch people safely, she spends almost an entire evening just cuddling with as many people as possible. It starts with just Scratch and the owl bear cub. Then Halsin joins. Then she goes to find the others for hugs. Astarion jokes about how the two of them could probably reach normal temperatures if they just hugged for long enough.

She and Lae’zel bond quickly through their sparring. The two joke back and forth in their own ways and it confuses the other companions at first, because basically no one else has had a chance to learn Lae’zel’s sense of humor.

Karlach collects the various teddy bears and plush toys they encounter on the journey. Having nice, soft, cuddly things to curl up with makes her feel safe.

Jaheira

She knows how to get you fucked up beyond your wildest dreams. Smoking with her is an ORDEAL.

Jaheria speaks to the younger party members like they’re her kids. This doesn’t become clear until they visit her home, however, at which point said companions have various reactions(Karlach loves it, Lae’zel does not).

Minsc

Minsc quickly joins the sparring sessions. He also starts wrestling matches.

He can often be found having seemingly one sided conversations in camp, apparently talking to boo. The topics of these chats are vast and varied. Gale once heard him discussing the various meanings of different flowers in bouquets according to flower language.

[blues824]

Helloo!! Greetings! Could I interest you in making a request? It's about Ciel with a seamstress s/o, if that's ok with you of course.

Female Reader. We’re also gonna say that Lizzie isn’t his fiancé.

Ciel Phantomhive

He had met you when Mey-Rin was trying to do his laundry but stepped on one of the tails of his suit and ripped the fabric. He had heard from his aunt, Madame Red, that you were her go-to seamstress and that you could repair any tear, rip, or hole perfectly.

So, he had Sebastian escort him to your home. He obviously didn’t show up uninvited and wrote a letter to you beforehand. When you opened the door, the young master was taken aback at how young you looked. From his aunt’s words, he had thought you would be much earlier.

As you worked on his tailcoat, Sebastian had poured the two of you tea and you were all talking about what you did and how long you have been doing it. You explained that you mended clothing for every social class and how you made quite a lot of money from doing it. 

Ciel actually appreciated your company because he felt as though he could really talk to you in a more unprofessional way. Like he didn’t have to remain within the confines of societal standards of the rich and noble. No, you were simply Y/N, a seamstress who knew how to get people to act like their true self.

He invited you to the Phantomhive Manor on multiple different occasions, and you invited him to your humble abode many times as well. You chose not to flaunt the wealth you have accumulated since you would lose your poorer customers.

Eventually, once you both begin courting each other, he would express his desires about you moving in with him so that he could make sure you stayed safe (and his). After all, he does work for the Queen and that means he is a target for a lot of corrupt people who want his power and influence.

He would take you to the market you frequent with your arm in his as you both shop for things you need. You try to refuse but Ciel insists, stating that a lord should help his lady. That statement just made you flustered, so you changed the subject by teaching him how to tell if the material was of good quality or not.

You often take over the chore of laundry to save Sebastian an ounce of the headache, and you’ve even helped the others with a few other chores as well. Since you had to be careful while sewing, you figured that you needed to apply that to carrying fine china around the Manor.

The young Phantomhive Lord said that you should be by his side instead of doing the chores that he pays the staff to do, but you kindly remind him that they need assistance and you are not a lady, so you are under obligation to help them under societal standards.

That is when Ciel decides to pull a very cheeky move and pulls you into a room, where he asks if you would like to become his fiancé and eventually his wife when you are both old enough. You were surprised, but said yes after tears started falling from your eyes.

[sunsetcougar]

Soo assuming Rosie's Emporium sells clothes she makes I think she'd teach Vaggie how to sew, or at least let her watch her sew

So I can imagine her making Charlie duck pajamas ir smth cause she's missing her dad and she had them when she was younger; maybe making a matching set for Theo

Vaggie definitely has some sewing skills. No where near Rosie’s skill, but she can mend and make simple things. I love the image of her making Charlie and Theo matching pajamas, and she’d probably end up making a set for herself to so they all match.

[applejuicebegood]

My Home, My Heart - Platonic!141 x Reader

Fem!reader Summary: Y/N has two younger sisters named Emi and Marigold. Y/N has invited her teammates to her farm relax after their deployment, they enjoy an early morning together with Y/N's younger sisters. Masterlist

Cw: Mentions of an absent mother, mentions of alcohol, very cringe writing

Word Count: 2232

The morning air was cold and thick with the scent of brewing coffee and dusty curtains. You winced, pulling yourself from your cocoon of quilts and comforters. You reached for the knitted sweater you left on the floor with a yawn, still tasting last night's bourbon on your tongue. You scratched the back of your head, tangled hair falling down your back. A pleasant sting in your muscles drew you further into consciousness. The intricate tattoos stretching over the scarred skin was a prideful mapping of your stories and ancestry. A permanent reminder of what you cherished most. 

You made your way across the familiar path of your bedroom, your socked feet creeking across the worn wooden floor boards. You thumped down the stairs to squint away the morning light shining through the fogged windows. Tracing your nails across the scratches in the wooden railing as you did when you were little. Your farm house was quaint, nestled into a vast, rich, valley that was folded into the ocean cliffside. If you were lucky and the morning mists parted in time, you could see the sun kiss the churning waters golden. The property had been in your family for decades, the imprint of different generations found in the old oil-stained recipe books stored over your stove, the tablecloths and plaid quilts your grandmothers had sewed together by hand, the worn-in farming tools that you had been teaching your sisters to use, and in the welcoming promise of security you returned to after every deployment. You cared for this home, the same way it had cared for you and your sisters. So when money grew scarce and your mother abandoned the property, you joined the military, trained as a combat medic, and sent the majority of your checks back to the farm and into your sister's schooling. Little did you know that in joining the army and eventually qualifying as an SAS soldier, you would find yourself under the command of Captain John Price along with the other chosen candidates for the coveted 141 squad. In which you had managed to find the comfort of home far away from it. 

You had found it in their smiles and their hearty laughter. In Johnny's jabs at Simon for his British mannerisms and in your conversations with Gaz regarding his nightmares surrounding the night he first met the captain. You found it in your Price’s encouraging rants about bravery and in his habit to always make sure you had eaten at least one thing that day. You found it in random bars and around a deck of cards, in the bottom of cheap beer bottles and the barracks of the different bases you were rotated between. When you first joined, you believed that you had only two goals, make sure none of these men die, and if they do make sure they don’t die alone. It was only through the many bullets you had to dig out of their muscles and the frantic stitching of open wounds did you begin to see these men as your brothers rather than colleagues. You cared for them with disciplined tenderness, never treating them as broken but always ready to help fix and mend their wounds. And as your first year on the team stretched into three you eventually had invited them to spend a few nights at the farm. Before, only Gaz, Roach and Johnny found time to make the trip. It was only now that you had convinced everyone to come up for at least one night, with Price and his wife meant to be driving up that evening. It was meant to symbolize how far you had come as a team but also a merging between your two homes. A celebration of your camaraderie and friendship, or that's what you told yourself as you stocked up on ibuprofen for the inevitable hangovers you would have to deal with. Your sisters were ecstatic, to have someone else in the house to talk and play with other than you. You couldn’t blame them. In your phone calls with Marigold in the days leading up to your flight back, she couldn’t stop talking about how happy she and Emi were to see their uncle Johnny and to finally meet the mysterious Simon Riley you talked so much about. 

Your lieutenant was someone you knew didn’t have a home like yours to return to. You had never forced Simon into feeling obligated to accept your offer, even if you told him every holiday and summer season that he was welcomed in your home and that your sisters would love to meet him. So, when you made your way to the kitchen and saw from across the tiled counter that your youngest was sitting at his side, asking feverish questions about his tattoos while tracing them with her small chubby fingers, you felt a mixture of relief and pride bloom in your chest. ‘Morn’in… you sleep well?’ Gaz asks who stands at your coffee maker, pouring himself a cup. You smile, realizing that the tension that held his shoulders back and his jaw tight had finally dissipated. The cream cable-knit sweater was pulled up to his elbows so as to not get the fabric dirtied with coffee grounds. 

‘Of course.. How could I not after last night?’ He smirked, dumping fresh grounds into the machine. You were referencing the long card game you had played the night before. All of you finally went to bed when Roach’s slurred speech was entirely indiscernible, elated from the bottles of Geniuss Johny had brought from his trip into town that day with Simon. 

‘Well, you are still the only one who has managed to stay sober, that might change tonight once captain gets here’ Gaz says, you snickered as you pulled the fridge open, finding the coffee creamer. You handed it to Gaz, knowing he is the only one who likes the stuff, you stocked up. In a trade, he handed you a cup of coffee of your own. You took a generous swig, the dark liquid burned down your throat, waking you up. 

‘Y/N!’ The squeal of your little sister's voice made you smile widely, giggling at the way she perked up from Simon’s arms, finally noticing you. Her bright red hair was messy and tangled. Your old shirt she had chosen to sleep in hung from her small body with the tube socks bunching down her calves. You set the cup down before crouching down to pick her up and swing her into your arms as she ran into the kitchen, peppering her freckled cheeks and forehead with kisses. After coming back from every deployment, you tried to give your sisters as many kisses and hugs you think they missed when you were away.

‘There’s my little lass! What were ya do’in with our Simon there lovie? This early in ‘da morn’in?’ You cooed, brushing back the frizzy strands from her bright round face. Her arms pat your shoulders in her built up excitement. ‘He- He was tell’in me ‘bout the dwa’ins on his a~arms.. It’s like yours!’ She said pointing back at Simon, who sat idly on your couch. The one requirement you gave him was that he wasn’t allowed to wear his ski-mask in the house. You wanted your sisters to know the real Simon, not the soldier. You chuckled, looking back at your lieutenant, his lips drawn upwards as he looked down at his hands. Gaz reached over and ruffled your sister's hair before kissing her head and turning back to switch on your old stove and pulling out a large pan from your cupboard. ‘Was he now? That is just… huh’ You said fake-surprised. Only your baby sister could have gotten Simon to smile so easily. Gaz softly chuckled as you set your sister on the island counter. You heard Simon scoff, leaning back on the couch. You winked at Gaz, realizing that you and him now had the best blackmail for when you were back on base. ‘What do you want in your pancake’s Emi?’ Gaz asked you sister, fishing out the carton of eggs, fetched yesterday by Marigold from your coop. 

‘Chocolate please.. And blueberries!’ Emi said, swinging her feet ‘Is Roach and Soap up yet?’

You ask both of them, fetching another mug and pouring a cup of coffee for Simon. Carrying the fresh cup over to your lieutenant. ‘Kid’s knocked out cold.. really can’t handle his liquor. Johny’s up though.. Took Mari out to chop would I think’ Simon said, nodding as he took the steaming porcelain cup into his large hands. ‘Did he? We should fetch them in a few.. wanna get started on dinner prep after Gaz finishes up’ You say, looking out the window expecting to see your sister and Johnny with arms filled with pine logs, trudging through the thick build-up of snow. You sip your coffee, fat lazy flakes of white drift lazily from the hazy sky. In the distance you can see the plump black bodies of your cows stomping through the blanketed fields, swaddled in their winter coverings. The soft crackle of the wood stove in your living room blended together with the muted conversation struck up between Emi and Gaz. Emi asking him if he had cows and chickens in Birmingham like we do here. You turned at the shuffled Simon standing beside you. One of his hands in his sweatpants pocket with the other wrapped around the rim of his mug. You smiled, hoping that Simon felt the same collective comfort you felt any time you would look out from this window. ‘My sister would never! She.. Sh-’ ‘Oh but she would! She’s an absolute menace lassie..’ You groaned, leaning your head back. Johnny’s voice carried from the back porch. Only now did you realize that having your teammates and your sisters in the same room meant they now had every reason to share the many embarrassing stories of you they had collected over the years. You took another swig of your coffee, smiling at the sound of Marigold's high-pitched laughter as Johnny recounted one of the nights he had to drive you home from the bar with you entirely shit-faced, trying to grab hold of the steering wheel from the backseat. You smiled down at your cup, downing the last of the hot liquid. ‘I’m really glad you're here Si’ You say, just loud enough for the two of you. Looking up at him, you couldn’t tell if the softening of his eyes was from the coffee kicking in or your comment. Either way, to see your Lieutenant so relaxed was rare and welcomed. You were proud that you could give this to him. Repayment for all of the times he had listened to your rantings about your mom’s non-involvement in your sisters lives. For the late-night walks around the different bases after one of you had a nightmare. For the constant reassurance that you could stick behind him and the rest of the team for protection and certainty. He turned to you to say something, only you had turned away at the crack of the porch door opening and snowy boots being kicked off.

‘Y/N! is it true that you were captured by yanks and..and Johnny had to save you? Your sister asked you, her face flushed red from the bite of the cold and the swinging of your axe. Between your two sisters, Marigold looked the most like you. The gentle swoop of her freckled nose and chocolate brown eyes always was a surprisingly reminder that you shared her beautiful features. You took the pale bucket from her arms, filled with split cedar logs. Looking over her shoulder to glare at your sergeant, who winked at you as he unzipped his coat. Snowflakes falling off of his shoulders. ‘You go wash up lovie, breakfast should be done by then, Ya Gaz?’ You asked into the kitchen, receiving a muted ‘yea’ from Gaz. You gently squeezed your sister's icy cheeks. You kissed her hairline, her darker red curls peeking out from the green headband she tied her hair back with. She hurried up the stairs with a hum. You sighed, placing the pale on your hip. You watched as Johnny ruffled Emi’s hair as he got himself coffee before taking his place beside Simon, who still stood watching your snowy farm through the fogged window. You sighed, crouching in front of the wooden stove and opening the hatch. The dwindling flames licked your arms as you placed the fresh wood over the coals. The ambient shrill of laughter and the warm buttery scent of Gaz’s pancakes settled you. You shut the stove with a harsh click. You picked up your baby sister from the counter and set her on your hip, tsking at the chocolate smudged around her mouth. A clear indication that Gaz let her get into the chocolate chip bag. You smiled, looking out over your home. Realizing that the people you cared for the most were all here. Tucked away in your warm, hidden paradise. There would be no surprises, no alarms or sirens, no uncertainty and panic. For once, you were certain in the safety of your team and certain in your care and appreciation for them. You just hoped that they felt the same.

[frozen-waters]

General Johnigail/Marston family hcs?? <3

ofc ofc yay yay yay!!!!!!! sorry for making John a little lover boy whenever I write johnigail and there are also a few angsty-ish hcs in here

More Johnigail and Marston Family hcs!!!

• John loves when Abigail plays the piano (canon but it makes me giggle)

• John also watches Abigail sew new clothes or mend old ones. I don’t mean this in a weird way but he likes watching her sew without her knowing. in like a sweet way. she looks peaceful to him

• I’m not sure how to explain this but the Marston family (or mostly Jack) is a few The Smiths songs to me

• speaking of The Smiths modern Jack would listen to them

• after Abigail died, Jack wished he had read to her more in his tween/teen years

• even as Jack gets older, he still laughs sometimes at the stories Uncle tells

• Jack also kept all of Abigail’s dresses that she had after she died. he didn’t really know what he was gonna do with them but he couldn’t stand getting rid of them. he did the same with John’s clothes but he kept them so he could wear them

• in modern when Abigail has to go to work in the morning or something John will wake up before her and turn on the car for her so it’ll be warm by the time she’s gotta go

• John and Abigail dancing together!!!!!!!!!!!!!! idk when but maybe if Uncle still plays the banjo or overhearing music is Blackwater!!!!!!!!!!

• modern John had a gamecube when he was in highschool but the only games he played were like. sonic, eternal darkness, and resident evil. dug it out of Hoseas garage or attic when Jack became a teen and "gifted" it to him -> has it in the livingroom and John plays it and Jack will watch him sometimes -> John also thought Jack was insane when he didn't know what he was supposed to do w a gamecube. to him its The Gift

• in modern when Jack was like 7-10 he'd infodump for an entire dinner about a book or show he read or watched in excruciating detail

• Abigail loved dressing up Jack and his sister

• the Marston daughter used Johns shirts and basketball shorts as pajamas for like. five years straight in modern

• mosquito's were Jacks worst enemy in his tween years

• Abigail loves the horses they keep on Beechers Hope. she likes keeping them all pretty and clean

• John buys Abigail jewelry sometimes. it takes all his brainpower to find something that will look nice with an outfit of hers but its worth it when he sees her get giddy over a necklace he got her

• John bought Mary-Beth's books for Abigail since they were mostly romance and he would read them to her. after John died Jack would read the books to her on her and John's anniversary along with taking her to the movies. or he'd read them to her if she asked

• in modern I know deep in my bones John had some weirdass senior quote

• in modern the Marston daughter was afraid of the dark and had a horrible habit of going into John and Abigail's room and accidentally scaring them

• modern Jack wants to have a bunch of little nick-nacks and cool stuff in his room but everything he finds he feels like it doesn't fit the "vibe" he wants

• John does recognize Jack's empathy towards the animals on the ranch. not that he knows what to do or say about it. tried sugarcoating some sickness among the animals to Jack once but eventually had to tell him what was actually happening and Jack was very sad about it

• Abigail did teach Jack to sew a tiny bit

• John would give Jack "relationship advice" (as if he fucking knows anything) when they'd go into Blackwater to sell the ranches goods

• every year for John and Abigail's anniversary he'd take her into Blackwater and take her to see a movie

• Abigail always notices when John wears a gift she got for him no matter how long ago its from

• when Abigail's sick John tries to keep the house nice and tries to cook for her even though they're both fairly bad cooks

• Jack absentmindedly tells Uncle about the book he's reading when they sit on the porch together and Uncle comes up with some story he witnessed similar to the book

• John also takes Jack to see a movie for his birthday. the first time he did Jack does that thing where he gets excited and cant really talk straight and John was proud of himself

• Jack does occasionally like helping Abigail cook or gather things in the garden

• as Jacks hair gets longer he braids little pieces of it without thinking sometimes

this wasn't as long as the last one whoops

[cethlyarlo]

Imagine this with me for a sec, I'm here to break your heart with this silly little headcanon:

Baylan and Shin made their outfits.

When Shin was young and living with her family, she learned to sew because it was something commonly taught to all people within her community (like driving or riding a bike in ours). This means she grew up with the craft and is familiar with how to both sew by hand and with a machine. She knows how to darn, mend, and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if she knew a thing or two about embroidery, crochet, or knitting.

(oh my golly, imagine Sabine finding out Shin can crochet)

Anyways, fast forward to the first few years she and Baylan spent together on the run. Shin is officially an apprentice and they work together to survive, take contracts, teach, and learn. They do everything together, and because of their profession, they feel like they need ✨outfits✨ to appear more reputable to potential clients.

Now, if you look at the stitching on Shin's tunic compared to Baylan's, it's a lot neater. The color of fabric is uniform and overall, it's looks like it's held up fairly well to the abuse it's been through. Baylan's is... a little less neat, but still durable and it serves it's function.

Here's where I'm going with this:

Shin, in this scenario, is a relatively experienced seamster, or at least more experienced than most. This means that she probably had to teach Baylan a thing or two when it came to creating their outfits respectively, hence why the craftsmanship in Shin's appears a tad better than in Baylan's.

Now just imagine Baylan's pride towards trying to learn this new skill from his apprentice and inevitably succeeding after many failed attempts. He knows his handiworks isn't the best in the world, but he did it and it was his own apprentice that taught him how. It made his apprentice smile and that's really all that mattered in the end. It was probably a defining series of moments/activity in their relationship and it probably brought them closer as a Master and his Apprentice, or more like, a Father and his Daughter.

That's all 🙃

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Joker head cannons

He definitely knows how to sew more then that he knows how to make clothing and he's really good with mending and making dresses if he feels like it

He's bisexual with a preference towards men like he has some attraction to woman but I feel like he more so views woman as easier to manipulate and control then men, tho he does have to find the woman attractive otherwise there's no real point for him to be with them, but even when he has a female partner hes still flirting with men any chance he gets and not just Batman but just some rando mobster he meets at one of the many bars in Gotham

He's definitely borrowed one or more of Harley's dresses and has had to make or order her a custom dress because he got blood on the one he borrowed and she's destroying his layer and killing his goons because it was her favorite and if he doesn't remedy it he'll have no competent goons to do his bidding..

Just like he hates Nazis he hates homophobia even more he can't be bothered with other things like abuse or domestic violence or murder but homophobia no he's hunting you down like a dog if he catches you on his turf dating to be homophobic god help you if you make a homophobic comment about him... I just imagine he just smiles and laughs and then kills you the most brutal way possible and then takes your body and starts parading it around Gotham as his date and even goes so far to go into a restaurant with the body orders dinner for both puts it on your credit card and opens a bottle of champagne like would you like more my love and starts cackling while the rest of the staff are horrified, I feel he'd even go so far as to carve words or something into your flesh and then finally dumps the body as a warning..

In that same vain if he's out and about enjoying a day off or day off adjacent for him and he's at a bar hell definitely be the life of the party mans will be flirting hardcore with any man he finds mildly attractive would definitely shoot you for not laughing at his jokes though

He has a whole warehouse full of custom dresses he's designed and had made and suits and other various costumes

He's a really good cook witch no one expects especially with cooking on a budget he can make like a five star meal out of the cheapest ingredients but if he has a choice hes a bit bougie, also I feel like he'd host a cooking class with his goons because they keep fucking up his breakfast and as he's teaching the class one of the goons burns the egg and he goes "oh sweetie that's not it at all", then grabs the goons face and holds it down onto the burner till a circular burn mark is on his face while saying, "I dont want to punish you but if i don't how will you ever learn". He releases him but and tells him to try again the goon surprisingly gets it right..

NOTE: Now this next one it really depends on what iteration of joker but I'm gonna put this around bronze/silver age era where he's less violent and psychotic and in this little thought Harley still exists yes ik she wasn't written till the 90s this is my head canon shut up also this is canon things mixed in with my headcanons so

But I imagine mid fight with one of the bat kids one of them pauses and is like joker can I ask you a question and joker is kind of like thrown off a bit and a thousand percent expects it to be a trick or sucker punched but he goes along with it and is like sure what's your question and the bat kid is like... "Soooooo your not straight right"?! And joker just fucking starts laughing then pauses and is like "kid what about my outfit makes you think ah yes that's a straight man do you think a straight man would flirt with Batman or go out of his way to arrange such lovely dates for batsy if I were straight ". And joker is absolutely laughing because this is the funniest joke he's ever heard to think anyone ever thought he was straight even harley who he was involved with for years knew this about him the moment she laid eyes on him.. the bat kid just kinda staring at him awkwardly ajd joker just is like why do you ask there's gotta be some reason for this question.. the bat kid is like uhh so then your bisexual right so like how did u know you were bisexual what were the indicators you were the first villain I kind of thought of I could ask and also the most available.. joker just pauses and is like alright I'm putting a pin in this plan and calls Harley and tells her to bring a white board and markers witch leads to an hour long lecture on the different genders and sexualities and what they all mean as well as an explanation that not everyone will be an ally

He also goes on to explain that when he was young it wasn't really a good time to be gay or bisexual so a lot of people were repressing part of themselves due to fear of what others would do to them if it got out and how the kid is lucky that the world is more accepting now then it was then he also explains that he and Harley had different experiences in that regard as they grew up in different times seeing as Harley is younger then joker

To put in perspective when Harley was a freshman in college Bruce was already three grades above her and on the cusp of graduating before dropping out

He's secretly a wine drinker

At some point he went to college and graduated with honors

He doesn't like animals views them as filthy and not worth his time

Hes neutral towards children definitely would beef with a child actually does beef with children (the batfam) I feel like he neither likes nor dislikes children like yeah he killed Jason but that was on a whim

[suzukiblu]

For the random word prompts have some crafty words: knit, crochet, sew, mend, needle, thread and scissors. I gave you a lot because I don't think many people use enough craft Hobbies and skills in fics and I love reading about my favorite characters using skills I love.

Tbh I don't really have much prose-wise for craft stuff at the moment, I'm pretty sure everything craft-related on my docket is still in very loose outline form? Like ALL my uses of "needle" are ethically-dubious-lab-related, for SURE.

Buuuuut I can give you this very professional outline excerpt from a crack AU where Kon gets turned into a small and adorable puppy and things get ridiculous and cute and low-key emotional from there, if you want a little bit of crafting, lol.

Krypto picks puppy!Kon up by the scruff and takes him home to Metropolis lol 

Clark is puzzled, Lois is amused, 10yo!Jon is DELIGHTED because Krypto had a PUPPY!! 

Clark: Krypto didn't HAVE a puppy, Jonno, he just–

Kon, actively floating through the living room 

Clark: . . . uh. 

Jon: :DDD 

Clark: h o w . 

Lois: . . . well, WE had JON, sooo . . . 

Clark, panicking juuuuust a little: Oh my GOD how did this never occur to me as a thing that might be a thing?! Oh my GOD!!

And then Kon is Doomed because now they all think he's KRYPTO'S BABY lol 

meanwhile Jon is bonding with the new pupper/fellow hybrid who he wants to grow up and fight crime with and Krypto is trying to teach Kon how to speak Kryptonian Dog and also dadding the hell out of His Puppy/bestie hahaha 

And Damian sulkily resents that Jon's dog likes DRAKE better than HIM

Jon talking to Ma about maybe making "Scout" his own lil' collar-cape like Krypto's and Kon like, DIVES into her scrap basket and comes up with some black scrap leather and like, BARKS over it in an attempt to get them to realize HE'S NOT ACTUALLY A PUPPY DAMMIT

Jon, a little embarrassed: . . . do you, uh, think Kon would think it was dumb if we made Scout a little leather jacket like his? Since he's a Kryptonian hybrid like–us?

Ma, fucking CHARMED by both that idea and Jon's cuteness: Well I think we're GOING to so he'd best just be flattered. 

Kon like . . . very confused as to why Jon even wants to do that, but also GDI JON AND MA COME ONNNNN 

Kon so, SO grudgingly getting measured for an S-shield pupper-jacket which of COURSE Ma immediately makes and Jon helps by sewing the embroidered El crest patch she makes onto the back 

Jon may or may not bedazzle it

Lois is destroyed by the c u t e 

Kon, internally: what is my life.

[snapeaddict]

Ooh prompts! How about albus handling the post-lily year a bit too heavy-handedly, it goes south, and minerva is LIVID :3

Minerva focused

Loved this prompt, such a thing had been on my mind for quite a while as a continuation of one of my fics - I'll be posting it as the next chapter too. I have just changed the timeline, as I do not imagine Minerva vehemently defending Severus in their first year as colleagues. This is the beginning of his third year. I suppose I could write one where Severus gets furious too, but I am sure this would not work in his first year as a teacher; rather ten years later ahah

Power play

Well, let’s see. There were five essays left to grade, including that one still soaked in black ink – that is unfortunate, she had told Mr Longbourg before picking it up with the tip of her fingers. She lowered her gaze. Bugger. They were still stained.

Then there was patrolling to do for an hour, and some sewing to tackle, because her right sleeve was in dire need of mending – ah, and before that, a short meeting with Albus, to get the updated list of next year’s young recruits. She sighed heavily and turned around, heading towards the headmaster’s office. She hoped that this time, he would be mindful of his handwriting. Albus Dumbledore was a talented wizard, but he wrote as neatly as a muggle doctor when he was in a rush, and she spent enough time already trying to decipher her student’s poor attempts at calligraphy.

“Truffe au chocolat”, she said in a dry voice as soon as she stepped in front of the gargoyle. She felt a tinge of regret at the thought she was the one who had encouraged Albus to go back to Savoie in the Summer when two students behind her glanced over their shoulder, and started sniggering.

She climbed the flight of stairs quickly. The door to the office was opened. She was about to get in when the echo of a voice stopped her in her tracks: it was Albus’.

His voice was cold, almost menacing, unusually low. Her mind, still infatuated with the image of the adorable, foolish old man who had not ceased to speak about Chambéry chocolates since the beginning of the term two days ago, did not quite comprehend how that voice could be emanating from the same person. She froze completely.

“I expected better from you. Do you not see how Mr. and Mrs Sweeney will be valuable assets to us when the time comes, Severus? Is there any need to treat their son this way? Do you take pleasure in belittling children?”

“I don’t understand what you mean, headmaster. I have... told you before that your definition of a “harmless prank” differs from mine. Mr Sweeney deserves the detention, and I stand by my decision.”

“You are hounding the boy.”

“No. He is neither special nor important, and I intend to teach him so. You usually do not meddle with my decisions, headmaster. Am I to understand Mr Sweeney deserves special treatment?”

Minerva raised her head. That is bold of him.

“Mr Sweeney deserves equal treatment, Severus – all Gryffindors do. You will call off this detention at once.”

A pause.

“I cannot do that, headmaster. With all due respect, this would embolden the students to -”

A chair being pushed back.

“This is an order, Severus. I am not leaving you a choice. I am tired of your methods, and tired of the parents’ complaints. You cannot rule by Terror alone.”

“I have no other choice, headmaster”, Severus replied. It was subtle, but even Minerva did not miss it: his voice was trembling slightly.

There was another pause. She thought of clearing her throat, or perhaps turning back – but Albus’ voice rose again.

“You have a choice, Severus. You always do, and yet again you take the easy way out. You do not try. I don’t know what I am to do with you.”

There was no reply.

“Do not forget why I have taken you in, Severus. We are building a network. I will not have you jeopardize the school’s reputation or my plans because of your personal vendettas.”

“Headmaster-”

“Do not disappoint me again, my boy.” A pause, clearly planned. “You owe me as much.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

Both men turned their heads towards the threshold of the office, taken by surprise. Minerva, herself only half-conscious of her movements, made her way towards the desk.

“What, Albus, is the meaning of this?” she repeated, stopping right next to Severus. The young Potion Master was hunched in an armchair, his shoulders down in defeat; the headmaster, standing tall, was on the other side of the desk, his hands clenched on the edge of the wooden surface. He was looking at her with slight confusion.

“Minerva”, he greeted her. He took a step back from the desk. “I apologise; Severus and I had not planned for this meeting to last this long. Please, have a seat.”

The Potion Master immediately rose to his feet, his face a mask of complete indifference.

But his eyes, there was something in his eyes, pain, anger perhaps– Minerva caught his arm.

He froze, his gaze locked on her hand.

“Albus,’ Minerva said slowly, still peering at Severus, “of all the vile things I had to hear in my life, what you have just said to Severus must be one of the worst.”

There was a slight change in the headmaster’s countenance. He frowned, and his face contorted – it was both sudden and disconcerting.

“Minerva, please”, he told her quietly. “This only concerns Severus and I.”

“Severus was right to punish Mr Sweeney”, the deputy headmistress replied, still refusing to let go of Severus’ arm. “And I will make sure his parents pay for the acquisition of his classmate’s new cauldron. I often complain about Severus’ methods, they are rather harsh, I must admit – you have consistently insisted on each teacher’s right to their own modus operandi. You know that I disagree with that.” She paused. “You cannot speak like this.”

“This does not concern you”, the headmaster repeated blankly.

Severus’ face had turned as white as a sheet. He did not dare make eye contact with either of them, and looked obstinately at something in the far distance.

“But it does concern me, Albus”, Minerva replied, thin-lipped.

Her tone was hard to describe, many-layered and, or so it would seem to the careful listener, surprised at itself, respectful still, perfectly certain of its legitimacy.

Albus’ gaze made direct contact with his colleague’s.

“It does”, she went on. “Aren’t you the one who told us last year that the boy’s well-being concerned us? That this whole situation requires collective effort? Or does this only apply to us? Enlighten me.”

The headmaster was looking at her gravely. He had recovered from his surprise, regained his natural charisma: one glance from him and Minerva felt herself wavering, for a second incapable of justifying to herself why, out of the two men present, her enemy wasn’t Severus.

It should have been natural. She and Albus on one side of the office, the boy on the other. It should have been natural.

Was there something new?

“My dear professor, please be mindful of your tone”, Albus told her politely, though his voice was firm and low. “It is my responsibility to keep the staff in line, as you know.”

Minerva pursued her lips.

“I am aware. And does that involve humiliation? Power play? Albus… I have seen you do better.”

He flinched, and once again she felt her assurance falter – but she was right, and she wanted to tell him acidly, to mutter angrily, need I remind you that the boy is fragile?

And there was more. An awful feeling of discomfort, the uncovering of something truly vile that terrified her.

“As my deputy, I ask that you follow my lead, Minerva. I assure you there are no hard feelings between Severus and I.”

As if the mention of his name had broken his trance, the Potion Master finally freed himself from Minerva’s grasp, taking a step back. He cast a defying glance at Dumbledore, he could not help it – the headmaster raised an eyebrow. He lowered his head.

“There is no need for this, profess- Minerva. This is nothing serious”, he told her drily.

For a moment, the deputy headmistress looked as though she was going to burst out. Her jaw contracted painfully as she closed her mouth tightly, at a loss for words. She used a few precious seconds to calm down, careful for her silence to not last too long. She did not want to look upset: it was not the kind of person she was. She was composed, and grave, and rigid, and that was how she would handle the matter.

“Like I said before, Mr Sweeney deserves this detention. As his head of house, I insist on it.”

Dumbledore took a deep breath in. He, on the other hand, did not bother to hide his growing frustration.

“I have already established that this detention is not justified, Minerva. You will handle the matter accordingly.”

A pause.

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have heard me, Albus.”

A longer pause – one filled with tension, almost electric, terribly heavy. It was the first time Minerva was opposing her superior, her friend, so frontally; never before had any of their many disagreements turned into a violent confrontation.

Under his scrutiny she felt like a little girl, like the young teacher that had cried in his arms after the marriage of Dougal. He had been there too, when Dougal had died. The boundless empathy he had shown, the strong and reassuring hand he had extended to her each time - she had thought, vaguely, foolishly perhaps, that it had been extended to Severus also. Albus had taken in him, had defended him, had nursed him, and this all was genuine, she could swear it.

But there was something foul. A sort of… a repulsive kind of submission that Albus demanded as payment.

He liked the boy. But the boy was complicated: he was defiant, and stubborn. She had thought that, like her, when he showed signs of frustrations, he could simply not understand this behaviour. She had shared his annoyance. She had complained about the Potion Master, confronted him, called him out sometimes even during staff meetings. And this had been carried out, always, on equal footing. There had even been some cup of teas shared afterwards, in her office. But Albus did not expect to argue. He did not expect Severus to yield before reason. He expected him to yield, because he had been brought to the castle under such condition.

Was it servitude? When Severus had lowered his head just a moment ago?

“Severus”, Albus said slowly, “you are excused.”

The Potion Master was looking at Minerva, a strange expression on his face. It seemed as though he was going to say something, his muscles contracted in contradictory ways.

Finally, and not without violent struggle, he seemed to decide against speaking, nodded confusedly, and turned back.

He disappeared in the staircase. Albus’ gaze lingered on the threshold for a moment. When it returned to Minerva, he looked furious; still, when he spoke again, his voice was calm.

“What has gotten into you, Minerva?” he asked simply, his tone exaggeratedly casual.

He was looking at her intensely. She looked back; he held her gaze. For a moment she felt as though he was going through her mind, looking for clues – then, slowly, he sat down.

“Do not patronise me, Albus. This is not about me.”

“Indeed. And yet we have not closed the subject.”

She squinted slightly.

“You gave the boy a second chance. I thought it was generous of you. He does owe you his life. But you, of all people…” she was lost in thought for a second, searching for the right words. “Why do you hold this above his head? Why do you… expect him to bow before you for that reason alone? We have always spoken. Argued, even. You listened. Why do you not extend this favour to Severus?”

Albus smiled.

“I am glad to see that you now care for the boy, Minerva.”

“That is not what this is about!”

She was livid. Albus tilted his head, searching for her gaze once more.

“Answer me”, she said sternly.

He sighed.

“The boy needs to be disciplined, Minerva. For his own good.”

“Perhaps. But even when you disagreed with my choices, even when we held vastly different opinions, Albus; I was never, in all these years, under the impression that I could disappoint you.”

He frowned.

“You could never disappoint me, Minerva”, he replied, and for the first time since they had started talking there was a slight trace of weariness in his voice. “I care about Severus. He is important; more than he knows. I need to bring him in line.”

“You had countless colleagues – employees – that proved to be more or less insubordinate. It never really mattered. But Severus… he is different, is he not?”

The older man did not reply. He handed her a long parchment, which she recognized to be the list of addresses she had come to retrieve. She did not move.

“Indeed, Minerva. He is different.”

She put the parchment under her arm.

“I have disagreed with you countless times tonight, Albus. I have shown myself to be defiant, even insolent at times. You listened to me. You replied. You expected reason, and not mere hierarchy, to settle this matter.”

She glanced at Severus’ empty chair.

“You will extend this courtesy to the boy, Albus.”

_

It had been both an order and a plea.

Minerva McGonagall held on to a strict, crystal-clear image of Albus Dumbledore, one that comforted her even when her own moral compass wavered. She was brave, intransigent, heroic; but she was not fearless. One thing only could trouble her, and it was the disturbance of her strongest beliefs, of the pillars of her soul. For her sake, Albus Dumbledore needed to conform to the idea she had of him.

Severus had not. Severus had changed everything.

Her mind, her neatly ordered inner-self could not afford to be derailed again.

[asgardianhobbit98]

Never Alone - Boromir X OC

relationship: Boromir x OC

fandom: Lord of the Rings

word count: 1421

story summary: alerted something bad might happen to his love, Boromir attempts to soothe his anxiety by ensuring she knows no matter the distance, he will always be there with her. His actions might just save her life.

inspired by Bram Stoker's The Chain of Destiny.  

notes: this was written for @heilith to try and cheer her up a little bit <3 she prompted me to publish it and I’ve finally gained the courage to do so too! It’s my first Boromir fic and on top of that, I haven't written anything in AGES o.o please be gentle with me

Made a little AU, hope you all enjoy it! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

tag list: @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @knittastically @heilith @lathalea @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms if you'd like to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know

As the only female soldier in the ranks, Elydia had her own private room to get dressed in. Chainmail rattled as it poured over her bosom, before crinkling together around her waist as she put her belt on. She let her hands slide down her thighs a bit, for no reason really other than the fact she knew she had an audience; an audience, mind you, that liked the sight of his strong woman.

Grabbing a gauntlet, Elydia turned to offer a knowing look to the man whom had attempted to sneak in, but had failed incredibly due to his squeaky boots.

Boromir, son of the steward of Gondor, stood leaned against the doorway to the small room. He didn’t look surprised upon being caught, but he also did not reciprocate her smile.

Starting to tie her gauntlet so it sat taught against her arm, she tilted her head in a silent question to him. His continued silence prompted her to voice the question: “What has my beloved warrior looking so pouty?”

“I do not pout.”

Smirking slightly at succeeding to cut through his silence, Elydia focused her green eyes down at the gauntlet once more. “Mm… I did not want to say you were ‘brooding’. It gives away too much of my thoughts on you. After all, brooding is the sexy man��s pout.”

Boromir looked away from her only to try and contain a chuckle. This was not a time for light-hearted conversation. “I wish to talk to you.”

“What of, my love?”

“I had a disconcerting dream.”

Gauntlet finally tied as tightly as she liked it, she turned her gaze to him once more. “Disconcerting? How?”

“It was of you. You did not make it back.” He stepped inside the little changing room fully, and reached out to her waist, calloused fingers moving over chainmail shakingly. “You fell. You were alone, no one near to offer you courage to keep fighting. And you did not return home to me.”

“We promised each other we would not have these conversations. That we would trust in each other’s abilities. That is what you said when I worried for you last time.”

“I know.” His fingers stopped shaking as they grew heavier on her waist, trying to offer a gentle gesture of reassurance. She understood, and nodded her head to let him continue. “It was not your abilities that failed you. It was your belief of whether you could make it out. And…” He pulled out a little handkerchief embroidered once by a far smaller Boromir. His initials were in the corner – a rough job meant only to teach him how to mend clothes should he need it when out and about. The fine skills were usually only taught those seeking work within the artistry of sewing. This was the work of a warrior, and a precious gift to offer.

But the imagery…

Elydia could not help but giggle at it.

“Are you offering me a lady’s favour?” she joked.

“Please be serious.” The heaviness of his words shocked Elydia into letting her smile fall. “I wish for you to have it, so you know you are not alone. So you know, you are fighting to come back home.” He shoved it into her hands and then backed up as if to avoid her shoving it back at him.

Despite finding it beyond silly as this was nothing but a dream, Elydia did not motion to give it back to him. Instead, she stared at the handkerchief for a while, then moved to tie it around her wrist, initials in facing outward for her to see. Without a word, she turned away from him and grabbed her other gauntlet, putting it on over the little favour he had offered her.

In silence, he watched her ready the gauntlet, then the rest of her armour, and lastly attaching her sword to her belt. Only then did she turn to him and smile. “Maybe I don’t believe dreams can tell the future, but I can tell this will calm your anxious mind.” Gently, she placed a gloved hand on his chest, fingertips over the white tree embroidered onto his noble clothing. “I will keep it. And I will come back.”

He took her hand in his to lift her knuckles up to his lips. “Be safe, my lady.”

“My lord,” she greeted back, smile and blush a heavy indication of her feelings for him and her appreciation toward his gentle gesture.

…

A village within the borders of Gondor had reported issues of Orc attacks at night. Of course Elydia, one of their greatest warriors, was tasked with going along with her men. It would have been foolish to send anyone else.

But this Orc pack was not like the others. They were smarter than expected, and having taken them for granted, Elydia was mortified to find herself in the exact situation Boromir had described he’d dreamed about.

One by one her men fell around her, the darkness of the night allowing for only their screams to reach her ears as they fell – which only amplified the fear this situation caused her.

Her horse squealed in fear, and she did not blame him for throwing her off his back and bolting to safety.

But she was alone now. Truly alone.

The last of her men’s screams had died out a while back.

Orcs were surrounding her, taking their time with the last soldier standing (or… lying down, really) for their own sadistic satisfaction. She could easily reach for her sword and fight as it was not far away, but one arm was definitely broken from the fall, and she had a nasty gash on her leg – there was no way she could make it out alive. There was no reason to fight.

With a sigh, she let her helmeted head rest in the grass, ready for the slow and agonising death these Orcs were going to give her… when her eyes caught sight of her wrist. There, underneath the gauntlet, a little piece of fabric was visible… a tiny sliver of white amidst the dark of her surroundings… the white city… Boromir…

The favour!

“I will keep it. And I will come back.”

She clenched her jaw to face the pain, before reaching out to her sword to fight.

Fight to get back home.

To get back home to Boromir, as she had promised.

…

For how long she had been unconscious, Elydia did not know. All she did know was that when she next awoke from a hazy adrenaline rush of pure survival instinct and dissociation so the pain would not stop her from fighting and walking, and moving home, fingers were brushing through her hair.

Not her fingers though.

There was pain, yes, but she was comfortably wrapped up in a warm sheet on a fluffy bed and pillow. The fingers running through her hair offered a calming sensation that dulled the pain for a moment enough for her eyes to flutter open.

The fingers stilled, almost as if in shock, before another hand touched her cheek and turned her head ever so slightly to the side – her eyes reached those of Boromir sitting beside her bed. He looked tired, pale even… knowing him, he’d stayed by her side since the moment she was rushed in to have her wounds treated.

“My love…” Elydia whispered through a dry throat. Relieved she had made it, she attempted to move in some way closer to him, but the pain stopped her and so did Boromir’s hushing.

“Relax… You’re home.”

“Thanks to you.” Boromir’s eyes flickered down to the handkerchief still around her wrist. Despite her half conscious state of mind, she’d refused to let anyone touch it, not even to wash it of filth and blood. It was too precious to her, now for two reasons. “I should have listened to your dream…”

“It is alright. You made it back. And you will recover.”

“I will.” Elydia’s words were filled with determination, her stubbornness not going to let her body do anything but recover.

It made Boromir chuckle a bit. His beloved Elydia.

“Good.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, but as he went to straighten back up, he regretted it halfway and instead leaned down to press another kiss to her nose… then her lips…

“I wasn’t alone…” Elydia whispered, sleepy once more. “That’s why…”

“And you will never be either,” Boromir promised before kissing her lips once more, lulling her to sleep...

AO3 link (limited access - only those with an account, sorry)

my carrd

thanks for reading. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment

[daisyisnotaflower]

A list of TMA headcanons that came out of a recent brainrot session with my cousin

Jon used to wear glasses but no longer needs to after waking up from his coma

they're small, square, gold glasses. he doesn’t start out with a glasses chain, but gets one eventually because grandma core

Jon damaged his glasses at some point so he taped m up. Then the skin on his nose got irritated because he kept pushing them up

the event that damaged Jon’s glasses may have been: the worm attack (MAG 39), breaking into getrude's appartment or the not!Sasha attack (MAG 79)

in s1 Jon cleans his glasses very often. He always has the little cloth with him, at all times. He cannot stand dirt on the lenses, but maybe more so than that, he thinks it makes him appear put together, important, smart etc. he will often clean them while in conversation with his colleagues, as an attempt to show dominance.

Jon stops cleaning his glasses regularly in s2

Jon does not handle it well if you put them down on his desk wrong

Jon gets a haircut the day before he starts as head archivist and then never again.

somewhere in s3 Jon starts brushing his hair less and less. it gets matted

somewhere in s3 Georgie tried to teach Jon how to sew. he stabbed himself a thousand times and gave up

during Jon’s coma, Martin would often come by and detangle his hair for him. he is so gentle about it. it takes multiple sessions, but when he’s done, he braids it. it’s a fancy braid, too

Jon does not redo the braid, he keeps it as it is. it gets floofier over time, with more loose strands

s2 Jon, Martin and Sasha all regularly put their glasses on top of their head and then forget them, but Sasha especially

Tim’s vision is pretty bad but he refuses to get glasses

Sasha’s glasses are big, gold wire and either octagonal or heptagonal, but with rounded corners. they have the type of lenses that turn blue in sunlight, funky stuff. She has a glasses chain

Sasha knows how to sew, knit, crochet etc. she makes a lot of her own clothing.

Sasha keeps fabric scraps and makes patchwork clothing out of them.

Sasha has a jar of buttons on a shelf. or maybe it's an ordered box with compartments. if it's a box, she made it herself.

Sasha has a shelf full of crafting supplies.

Sasha has a garden where she grows vegetables and herbs

Sasha makes her own strawberry jam.

Sasha loves cooking

Gertrude has those tiny little glasses that pinch onto her nose. they’re oval and silver.

Getrude knows how to knit, but only does it when she wants to look like a harmless old lady.

Elias also does not need glasses, but he wears them to be smug.

Elias’ glasses are small, half moon shaped and gold, He has a glasses chain with little eyes at the ends. they may or may not be prescription. it does not matter to him

Martins glasses are big, round dark blue wire.

Martin has some plushies

Martin mends his own clothes because he doesn’t wanna waste them

Martin is pretty good at knitting and crochet

Melanie dyes her hair blue

in s4 Melanie’s hair dye is faded and starts to grow out.

Melanie wears contacts. They are prescription, but also might be coloured, maybe to work better with her hair.

Melanie stops wearing her contacts in s4, because they are too much work to keep up with and she is not going to leave the archives to replace them, that’s too dangerous. Her prescription is pretty low, so it’s manageable.

as Melanie gets more and more affected by the ghost bullet, her irises slowly start to turn red.

Malanie has sewed some patches to her clothing. she’s also dyed some of it.

Melanie likes to tie her shoelaces in fun ways. She looked up some tutorials online.

Georgie loves sewing while listening to podcasts. the podcasts are mainly about true crime, media and art, and some political stuff.

Basira wears reading glasses. they’re rectangular, black, plastic glasses. they’re pretty cheap, she doesn’t wanna waste money she on glasses she only wears sometimes

[onegianthotmess]

Headcanons For Jane

I’ve been wanting to do this for a while so let’s go!!

Here is the post where I introduced Jane and showed what she looked like: Jane.

Also, I know that @queengiuliettafirstlady is a bit curious about Jane! I’d like to clarify that she is my OC as @natimiles informed you and that there will be a happy ending with her and Theo, just give me a little bit, please! But, in the meantime, you can enjoy these random headcanons that are canon because Jane is my OC/baby and I love her!!!

Jane is Comte’s first daughter, so obviously she’s a bit spoiled in the beginning

Not in a bad way, more so Comte just goes a bit nuts and almost buys all of the women’s clothing in Paris when he brings Jane home, but Leonardo stops him because he doesn’t want the mansion to overflow with gowns and take up his napping spots or for Jane to be overwhelmed

And yes, Leonardo also unofficially adopts Jane and gives her daily headpats because I said so

Jane is incredibly grateful to have been given a second life, but it has led her to question things

She was a devout Catholic while human, but she was confused on what to do with her beliefs when she’d been given an impossible second chance

So, after much contemplation, Jane did decide to remain Catholic in terms of beliefs, but not as devoutly as when she was human because her second life as a vampire has given her a new perspective on things

Jane is often compared to Vincent in personality and none of those comparisons are incorrect

Historically, Jane Seymour was actually called a peaceful angel while in court and was known to be one of, if not the most, beloved queen that ruled during King Henry VIII’s reign

So it makes sense her personality would stay the same even after becoming a vampire

In fact, the reason she wanted to continue living was to help children, even though she couldn’t raise her own son

So, yes, she is often compared to Vincent in terms of being an angel, but her and Vincent don’t see how they’re similar to each other and it’s so cute!!!

Jane only knew English while she was alive and had to learn Modern English from Comte, so when she started dating Theo, Arthur tried to learn Dutch swear words so he could tell Jane to say them to Theo as “terms of endearment”

But, before Arthur could do that, Vincent began to teach Jane Dutch without Theo knowing so she could surprise him

Jane is a very good cook and actually surprised Sebastian the first night she was there because she started cooking dinner way before Sebastian and was about halfway done with the meal when Sebastian walked in

Needless to say Sebastian was both bewildered and very interested by this and started scribbling in his notebook that Jane Seymour was an exceptional cook

Jane will also sit down and knit, crochet, or sew with Sebastian when he gets some downtime and she usually mends his suits if a tear is ever on them

Sebastian’s notebook is getting a nice section on Jane Seymour’s hobbies

Jane loves birds and her pet dove Enid was actually a gift given to her by Shakespeare as a thank you for her sewing some costumes for him for a play he was putting on

And Theo doesn’t like that Enid was from Shakespeare, but Jane loves Enid and sees Will as a nice person and good friend, so he stays quiet

Jane likes to watch Vincent paint and she usually tells him when it’s time to eat and when it’s time for him to go to bed

Jane is actually the only person King doesn’t knock over when he sees and is always gentle with Jane, which pisses Theo off a bit but he also thinks it’s cute as fuck-

When Jane feels restless, she will clean and organize things around the mansion

She’s reorganized the library so many times that it’s literally impossible to not find a book within thirty to sixty seconds, if you know what you’re looking for

Jane will occasionally go into town to help teach children with Napoleon and Isaac

It usually takes a minute for Jane to wake up, so Theo usually has to help her get dressed and occasionally has to help her with her hair if she’s that sleepy

Despite being a queen while human, Jane can be very naive and believes a lot of what Arthur and Dazai say if someone doesn’t immediately stop them or tell her otherwise

And yes, she’s fallen for this plenty of times

She’s the baby girl of the mansion, leave her alone-

Jane has days where she can faint very easily and she has done this while out helping Theo with his work

The first time this happened, Theo rushed her to the hospital and was panicking internally the whole time

And when Jane woke up with instructions from the doctor to go home and rest and drink a lot of water, Theo went with her and didn’t leave her side the rest of the day

When Leonardo and Arthur were asked to see if anything was wrong with Jane after multiple fainting spell days happening, Leonardo and Arthur eventually came to the conclusion that, because Jane’s death and final days had such a massive toll on her body, it affected her even after becoming a vampire

Leonardo and Arthur advised her to try and watch for signs of feeling weak or faint within herself to see if she needed to stay home so that her bedroom wasn’t too far to carry her to if she fainted and another resident found her

Luckily, these fainting spell days are usually few and far between and rarely even happen once a month most of the time

When Jane was dying of postpartum complications, she’d gotten an infection in her eyes from a remedy one of the doctors had given her and it damaged her eyes to the point of her needing glasses

For the first two to three months of Jane’s new life as a vampire, she needed to be guided around the mansion because her eyesight was awful and she needed to wait for Comte to take her to an optometrist to settle a prescription for her and get her glasses made before she could walk around the mansion freely

And during those first two to three months, Jane had broken a few things around the mansion while left alone and wandering the halls and after she got her glasses, she apologized profusely for the damages she’d caused

Occasionally, Jane and Arthur will mix up their glasses and Arthur has to go and find Jane to give her her glasses back as quickly as possible before she breaks something and feels guilty about it

All of the mansion pets have at least a slight fondness for Jane, but the birds, Brush, King, Vic, and Chérie all really like her in particular

Vic actually almost prefers Jane to Arthur and it makes Arthur really jealous because Vic is meant to be his dog and love him

But Arthur feels better after Jane reassures him that Vic still loves him before handing him his precious pup to go and play with King for a bit, who was getting jealous of the attention Vic was getting

Arthur and Jane are very good friends, with Jane almost acting motherly in a way towards Arthur and Arthur just being the flirt he is while also being nice and a gentleman to Jane because she’s a babie who must be protected

Jane actually has a great knowledge on the language of flowers and their properties, from medicinal uses to poisons, she knows almost everything about flowers, even some things Leonardo doesn’t know

Jane has always wanted to go to the beach, but she never really could in her life as a human due to being a lady-in-waiting, then a queen who was pressured to produce a male heir who eventually died after giving birth

Also, she can’t swim-

Jane makes Sebastian take breaks from housework and takes care of it herself

She will cook and clean and do the laundry and have it all done all before Sebastian arrives, thus forcing him to take a day off

Jane enjoys taking walks and usually has someone accompany her, which is usually Arthur and Theo

Arthur occasionally goes out to the bar alone with Jane and challenges her to a drinking contest, which usually ends in Theo being called down to carry his drunk wife back to the mansion and makes sure a tipsy Arthur is alright to be left by himself long enough for Leonardo to come down and eventually carry him back home

Jane gets unusually hungry while drunk and she’ll usually ask Theo if they can go get pancakes while he carries her back home

Jane is allowed to drink with anyone except Jean because of how they both get easily wasted and so they need someone else to watch over them so they don’t get themselves killed or do something worse while drunk

Jane and Vincent often go to Shakespeare’s villa together so that they can have tea with him and talk

They occasionally bring Brush and Enid along with them and both of their pets love both Shakespeare and Puck

Puck is a bit iffy on Vincent, but he LOVES Jane and doesn’t focus on giving Vincent half of an evil eye because he’s too busy getting pets from Jane when they visit

Jane has made winter scarves for everyone in the mansion, Shakespeare, and even the vampires in the castle

Jane met Vlad on the street as he was packing up his little flower cart one evening because she was waiting for Theo and Arthur, and Vlad took a liking to Jane and gave her a few free flowers from the selection he had left

Vlad thinks Jane reminds him of an innocent little girl and finds her cute, so he usually gives her a few free flowers whenever he sees her

And it makes Theo jealous whenever Jane tells him about “the very nice man with strawberry eyes” who occasionally gives her a few free flowers because….it’s Theo and Theo doesn’t like to share his precious and innocent little hondje

And Jane makes pancakes for Theo whenever he’s jealous to help him calm down and to reassure him that no one else will ever catch her eye except for him

Pancakes and a night of cuddling usually does the trick to make Theo feel better and Jane is always happy to oblige

Jane does try to limit Theo’s sugar intake, like giving him the option of letting her pour his syrup on his pancakes or having no syrup at all

It usually works, but sometimes Theo is sneaky and swipes the syrup bottle to put more on his pancakes when Jane isn’t looking

Jane usually instates herself as Sebastian’s replacement and caretaker whenever he gets sick, despite his objections

Even though Jane usually tries to take care of any one of the residents when they get sick because she doesn’t like to see them unwell

Jane loves going to the park and will take Enid with her so she can fly around

Jane actually met Charles at one of her visits to the park and asked if she could visit him at his home so she could get to know him better and meet his friends that he lives with

And that’s what led Jane to visit the castle and meet Faust for the first time and figure out who Vlad is

And Theo does not like Faust

Why?

Because Faust finds Jane interesting, very interesting and just gives Theo a bad vibe

Meanwhile Jane likes him because he doesn’t seem that bad and she finds him funny

Also everyone added Vlad to the “Don’t Let These People Drink Alone No Matter The Cost” list with Jane and Jean due to his zero tolerance for alcohol

Seriously, don’t let them drink alone together without at least one other person or someone is going to die or something weird is gonna happen

They all woke up hungover in Vlad’s flower garden once and flowers were on fire, there was a bear sleeping with them, Marshmallow was trying to get past Cherie to gnaw on Jean’s leg, Enid was asleep on Jane’s head, Vlad was hanging upside down in a tree, a pot of boiling water was in a rose bush, Jean’s eyepatch was missing, and Jane was using Vlad’s black cloak as a blanket

Yeah, Charles had to clean that up and Faust had to take care of Vald, Jean, and Jane while they were all hungover before Jean and Jane could go home the next day

Comte was freaking out about where his favorite most lightweight went for the three days they were gone

Vincent had to calm down Theo and assure him Jane was fine, but it didn’t really fully work until Jane was home

Jane has a mouse/kitten sneeze

The first time she sneezed at breakfast, everyone looked at her because they never thought she could get any softer or cuter, but they were very wrong

Children love her a lot, she’s like a magnet for kids

When she goes with Theo to take King to the park, children usually come up to her to tell her she’s pretty or to invite her for a game of hide and seek

And babies somehow calm instantly when she holds them

Jane is just really good with kids

Jane was worried about Vincent not having a bed and became even more worried when he said it was fine because he had his couch to sleep on

And Jane couldn’t let that happen, so she talked with Comte and made sure Vincent got a bed put in his room

She even set up some tarps to act as curtains around the bed so that the pillows, blankets, and sheets would be safe from any possible stray bits of paint that would possibly be splattered around in cast of an accident

Jane usually makes Vincent take breaks from painting because she worries about him and they usually make flower crowns together or they go and visit Shakespeare

They make flower crowns for Shakespeare and Puck, too along with their own respective pets

Jane has made flower crowns for Theo and King as well, which makes Theo embarrassed and shy and King very happy because he looks even cuter and eventually gets a snack when the flower crown falls off his head

For Christmas one year, Jane made everyone a special embroidered decorative pillow, even Shakespeare and the castle boys

Theo’s had a golden retriever on it, Arthur’s had a magnifying glass on it, Leonardo’s had tools on it, Jean’s had a tiger on it, Vincent’s had a sunflower on it, Napoleon’s had a sword/rapier on it, Isaac’s had a stack of books with an apple on it, Dazai’s had a book and pen on it, Mozart’s had a violin on it, Sebastian’s had a lamb on it, Comte’s had an hourglass on it, Will’s had symbols for his three most popular plays on it, Faust’s had a monkey on it, Charles’s had resurrection lilies on it, and Vlad’s had strawberries on it

Jane spent about a year and a half planning, researching, and gathering supplies for those pillows before she actually spent another year making the pillows before putting them in nice boxes with wrapping and bows and tags and a hand written card in each to everyone for how grateful she was to have them in her life and that they could do what they wished with their gift

Everyone was very touched by Jane’s dedication to just one gift and they all keep their handmade pillows out on display because they deserve to be seen

Yeah, needless to say that Jane is the queen of going above and beyond for handmade gifts, and just gifts in general

Any holiday involving the giving of gifts, Jane is on top of those gifts, which she planned months in advance for

She’s also the queen of arts and crafts, Sebastian being an extremely close second to her

Jane has made new collars and leashes for both King and Vic because she saw that the ones they had were getting pretty old and worn out

She even made a little harness and leash for Comte’s precious ferret, Thyme

When Jane told Theo she loved him in semi broken Dutch, Theo eased up as best he could on his swearing so that he had less of a chance of his sweet hondje learning any sort of bad language, especially from him

Arthur received many death threats just in case he decided to corrupt Jane’s pure and innocent, and definitely a bit naive, mind

Because Arthur is…well, Arthur

One time Jane accidentally broke her finger on a door and started crying, Theo nearly ripped the door she broke her finger on off its hinges and used it as firewood

He would have, too, if Vincent and Comte weren’t holding him back

Overall, Jane is a sweet babie who could make even the most stone faced serial killer melt with a single kitten sneeze and I love her

(A/N: I got the divider from @firefly-graphics, if you wanted to know or if they wanted to receive credit in this post because I used one of their divider graphics! Either way, go look at some of their stuff because the graphics are really nice!!)

[searchingforserendipity25]

Hi! For the worldbuilding prompts, Galadriel + weaving or fabric crafts? — @emyn-arnens

I am so sorry this too so long @emyn-arnens! I wrote a reply to this and was a bit bashful about it (I suspect crimes against fiber craft techniques have been committed), but I'm finally posting it. Thanks so much for the ask <3

nerwen was very young, when first she asked her father to teach her how to work the wheel. 

-

this is a child desirous of learning, earwën of the teleri had laughed, when first she beheld her daughter: little nerwen had eyes like an owl, colourless and wide, watchful as she was cradled, tracking every movement and every sound. 

so it was, as she grew; artanis, her mouth pursed, her eyes hungry. earwën held great mastery in the art of the needle, from the making of nets to the impossibly delicate filigree, so thin water gathered in fine drops along the curls and curves of her designs. 

nerwen learned lacemaking from her, and from her aunts and cousins, and most of all from her grandmother, the great master and creator of the art.

the queen of the falmari worked with a hundred pins and hundred bobbins at once, her mind a mathematical marvel; and from a very young age nerwen had been sat beside her, taught how to shape her own thoughts and hands to the creation of a design. 

but the noldor dwelt in far tírion, were beset always by the cool winds that rose from túna; and so too did earwën and arafinwë dwell there often. the garments to be worn in the high city were thicker than the shifting, patterned sea-silks and bold linens of alqualondë; for the weavers of the noldor worked with wool, in the fashion of serinde, the dead queen. 

sewing was a more ancient technique than lace-making, and weaving older than either. it was the way of the noldor, that every maiden go about with their satchel of flax over a shoulder, and at every spare moment be spinning or flashing their long, long needles.

nerwen learned all she could of it, and rhetoric, the arts and the sciences, those fashionable for maidens and those most unlikely. from her father, as well, she learned much - the saw and the varnish, how to speak with living wood and make peace with dead boughs, so they might be of use again. 

 arafinwë’s craft was of making, as most of his kinsmen; but he was a petty and whimsical maker, not taken with great seriousness by any quarter in particular. less learned than his half-brother, and content with his own unglorious projects, and with making certain the projects he showed the world were so few and without distinction that none would be very curious about his craft. 

that was as he preferred. arafinwë, it was said then even by the kind, lacked a great spark of brilliance. nerwen knew the truth, even as a child: her father was wise enough not to cast too much of himself as kindling to make it into a great fire.

his concern was with the things that existed already, and those he held dear; chairs for elenwë's rest as she nursed, clever games for his children. the repairing of old heirlooms and great pieces, and of small things besides: mending the cracks of miniatures, repairing the small link of a small chain. cleaning tarnish and rust, inventing new and simpler mechanisms to repair an old engine. 

from an early age, his daughter chafed at the pretense at humility, but even in her most high-minded years she did not disdain the small wonders he did build, sometimes, for those he loved.

nerwen’s spindle was of rosewood and gold, slow to warm to her touch, perfectly balanced, well-fitted to the hands her small fingers grew into, perfectly fitted to her grasp. her father had built it for her. so too he made her first wheel from the bare bones of new timbers, and metal he worked himself in the forge.

strange were the ways of the house of the king, even among the noldor. nerwen knew this, too - for there was no ancient machine, or spindle, or row of needles to repair, and pass down as inheritance. queen indis did not spin, or sew, or spin; and all the old wheels of the palace had belonged to míriel, crafted by the king to his first queen. none touched them that did not wish prince fëanáro’s wrath. 

in the evening, when her tutors sent her away from the books and evaded her endless questions, nerwen sat by the fountains with her friends. they spun fine wool as they chatted about their lessons and their first fledgling projects, flirting with new crafts and with each other, graceless and coy, laughing swiftly, trying to get the passing swifts and robins to sit on their heads and shoulders for a little while.

and at night, narwen crept through the narrow, secret corridors that bound her father’s house to the king’s palace.

upwards and onwards, through hidden places, reciting prayers to vairë as she went, and crept, and pried open the ancient doors to the closed quarters of the dead queen.

 she ran her hands through the strong frame, still as smooth and glossy as her grandfather had first made it, when the possibility of her life had been nothing in the rightful course of things. from her satchel she brought out the flax she always carried, and setting aside her father’s latest spindle, she sat herself in the bench.

míriel’s wheel was the best of such machines in tírion, but old-fashioned. much better did nerwen love her father’s work! 

but the wood remembered. indis was the best of dancers, and a great singer, and a fine painter, but she did not spin, and taught nothing of that art to the maidens of her house - and so findis did not spin, and lalwen did not; and írissë's craft was for leather and enchantments only.

artanis laid her hands and her claim upon míriel’s wheel. it spoke to her - lent her the cold feeling of cold hands on hers, teaching how to bind work and mind to the same end. the keen memory of mastery, guiding her movements in a small haunting.

nerwen was desirous of learning always, from all the best teachers. no prince would sever her from the perfecting of her crafts; fëanáro’s wrath never found her, but from a young age she loathed him wholly, for it was a thing judged foul and ungenerous, by the falathrim and the noldor alike, to hoard a great treasure away from any grateful eyes.

[rorywritesjunk]

Y'know what, let's have some headcanons about Miss Pins since I rewatched most of the Live Action and got some inspiration.

I imagine her being in her mid 70s. She had been a pirate captain for a short while,in charge of the fashionable Pins Pirates. They mostly raided merchant ships to steal fabrics and supplies.

Her crew was quite fashionable.

She only pirated for about 20ish years before deciding to put her skills to better uses, so she opened up her shop in a town frequented by pirates. Word got out and she became popular and decided to take on apprentices.

How do you become an apprentice under this fashionable former pirate captain? It's all in who you know. Sunny's mom had been a pirate, never met Miss Pins during her time as a pirate but she knew someone who knew someone and was able to get her daughter the apprenticeship.

Miss Pins often mostly had girls as her apprentices with the occasional boy coming in. And if anyone was nonbinary and/or trans? Hell yea. She loves all her apprentices equally (except Sunny is her top favorite)

Sunny is her absolute favorite which is why she puts up a fuss about Buggy. She still doesn't think the clown deserves her.

Won't hesitate to shoot someone being obnoxious to her apprentices.

While she teaches her apprentices sewing, mending, patterns, and alterations, she teaches them to run a business. Honestly if Buggy hadn't come along and managed to sweep Sunny off her feet, Miss Pins would have considered retiring and passing the business onto Sunny.

But no Sunny had to fall in love with a goofy pirate and disrupt her plans.

Dammit, Buggy.

[vaggietheangel]

Here is some episode ideas that might never happen:

Vaggie teaching Charlie how to cook.

Niffy teaching Angel how to sewing clothes.

Husker teaching Charlie how to gamble.

Charlie teaching Angel about different animals in hell.

Alastor teaching Pensious how to be intimidating.

Vaggie showing that she is a better dancer than Angel and showing him some moves.

Hey there hun!

Vaggie is a very good cook. She teaches Charlie how to cook traditional Salvadoran dishes. Charlie is not a good cook. She almost burned the hotel down a few times.

Niffty is a good friend to Angel. She mends his dresses for him after they get torn by handsy clients. She has no problem helping him, but teaches him how to do it for himself. She is very bussy after all.

Husk teaches Charlie how to gamble. She's actually quite good at most card games. But she dose feel bad about bluffing. She said it's lying with extra steps. Husk tells her that's the point.

Charlie and Angel bond over thier love of animals. Angel thinks all animals are adorable. Even the terrifying trippled headed snakes.

Alastor would be enemies to best friends. They don't get along but Alastor respects Pentious attempts to become an overlord. He teaches him how to intimidate others so he can have more respect. Right now he's just know as a dumb king pin who got lucky with some turf.

Vaggie is a ballet dancer. She teaches Angel some ballet. Angel also teaches her pole dancing. It's nothing sexual, just the art of it. There both pretty good dancers.