[The standard disclaimer that this is all fantasy and that everyone’s identities should be protected and respected. Also, if this reads like a 3am fantasy, it’s because that’s exactly what this is.]
C/W: Orientation play, kinda rapey, gaslighting
I’d love to try to get a lesbian to try cock. I’d love to befriend one of those softer, more femme lesbians. The types that are quiet and sweet. The pushovers. I’d wheedle my way into her life, and act the gentleman. I’d attend her rallies, and wingman her with her crushes. I’d jerk off to the thought of them together, late at night. Imagining her soft body naked in the moonlight. I’d imagine her and her crush making out, my cock sliding between their lips.
I wouldn’t last long like that. I’d need to change. I’d slowly become more open about sex with her. I’d crudely suggest porn for her to watch and read, my language growing more foul with each passing week. I’d place the idea of dick in her head. I’d send her porn with men involved. I’d do anything and everything to subtly grow her awareness. That beneath the pants of a man lies a cock that she might like.
She’d resist at first, asking me to stop while I gaslight and manipulate her. She’d be far too sweet for her own good.
I’d invite her over to watch a movie or to play video games. The usual. I’d pour a few glasses of wine and we’d spend the evening buzzing. A drunken dare would lead us onto the couch, loud, sloppy straight porn blaring in front of us. I’d wear sweatpants that wouldn’t hide my throbbing, aching bulge… and she’d notice. I’d make her notice. Slowly, under her eyes, I’d pull out my cock and wordlessly start stroking myself. She’d ask me what the fuck I’m doing but I’d lean my head back, close my eyes and jerk off faster. I’d tell her that I need to get off to the sights of a beautiful woman being fucked. I’d tell her to do the same. Wouldn’t it feel good for once? It’s not straight if we’re just masturbating together, is it?
We’d sit there, the sounds of nasty, disgusting fucking filling our ears while we pleasure ourselves before one of my hands trails to her thighs, squeezing it gently.
“Show me,” I’d say, quietly. “Please.”
Neither of us would look at the TV screen anymore. I’d be stroking my cock furiously, my eyes plastered to the wet slit between her legs. Her eyes would be closed while her pretty little fingers soothe her aching pussy. I wouldn’t last long. The taboo. The soft friend whose perfect body I never thought I’d see. It’d be too much.
I burst, spraying ropes of cum across her lesbian pussy, coating her fingers with my jizz. She’d barely notice, her own orgasm seconds away. I’d sit there, cock still in hand, watching as she spasms and trembles, her fingers buried in her perfect, pink entrance.
The first step of many. The first betrayal of dozens.
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silly low effort Velvette x reader headcanons —
If there’s one thing I love, it’s evil, malicious, terrifying, bitchy woman. Anyways, that’s why we’re here.
LOOK AT HERE SHES SO EVIL AND BAD!! I LOVE HER!!
I feel like to date Velvette you have to have such genuine patience because she is very difficult all the time.
Like she’s the type to ask what outfit she should wear and hold up two different sets. And then when you give her an answer she goes
”What, you think I can’t pull the other one off, or something?”
And you’d be like “dude, no that’s not what I—“
Then just to spite she’d go “Well fuck you then, I’m going to wear that one.”
I don’t think she does it in a serious way though, she just likes escalating things. I mean, you guys all listened to respectless, of course she does.
I think she loves those shitty reality tv shows unapologetically and with all her heart. And yes, she will make you watch them with her and you will not have a choose.
You’d be curled up on the couch together and she’d be laying on your chest with one arm extended out to point the remote at the tv and flip through channels.
She’d be like “What d’you wanna watch, you think?” and you’d say “Not that reality tv trash, that’s for sure” and she’d go “Mmmm, okay!”
And then she’d turn on one of her dumb shows immediately and laugh to herself when you groan.
Speaking of laughter, I have this silly headcanons where she snorts when she laughs. But she thinks it’s sounds ugly so she literally hates when you say something that provokes a laughing fit.
Well, she doesn’t really hate it, not when you always comment on how cute her giggles are. They are not cute and they sound like she’s dying all over again.
She also really likes when you give her massages and rub her shoulders like after a long day of work. Because it’s stressful stuff, the fashion industry.
So she also appreciates softer quality time. Like just cuddling up on the couch in one of your t shirts.
Also sometimes she fully cleans out your closest and puts everything she hates in one big pile that she calls the ‘burn it with fire’ pile.
”Hate the yellow, it’s hideous and makes you look infected. Oh and this red would literally only go good with one of your bottoms. It’s a waste.”
But she thinks you’re beautiful and gorgeous and so obviously you deserve better clothes?? Like duh.
She’s a big fan of princess treatment, too by the way. Like opening car doors for her, breakfast in bed, flowers for every anniversary (even the ‘8 weeks since our first kiss!’brandom milestone. Yeah, she just wants flowers.)
BUT DO NOT do the throwing your coat over a puddle of mud thing for her because “Why the fuck would you do that to an innocent coat. Are you completely daft?”
Just pick her up and carry her over the puddle, fucking obviously.
Also she loves doing your nails, hair, or dressing you up in general. She’s actually weirdly such a mastermind when it comes to this shit because all of it is catered specifically to your style and vibes, while also purposefully complimenting whatever her fit is that day.
I think she also likes very fancy dates where she gets to show you off to the public. Especially when you let her pick the outfits, she’s ecstatic and very very excited and equally proud of herself.
Also I said this on a previous post but I love the idea and no one has brought it up for a while but once you make your relationship public, she watches edits that her fans make of you two.
a/n — Bottom Velvette request came in and lowkey i’m hyped. Princess treatment to the max, for real for real.
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Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Creating Trouble Part 1. ||Kidnaping Scenario
Being a human was a taboo in hell, all the words you never herd you herd, everything you never felt you felt, and it got you a lot of attention from the different residents.
TW- Trigger warning, Mentions of molestation, mild language.
You couldn't scream or utter a single cry of desperation. These demons were much stronger than you could ever imagine, your worst fear was just about to come true.
"Just spray that perfume or whatever boss gave, before the radio demon comes." One muffled voice ordered.
Then you blacked out before they tied you up in constraints.
Everyone had been going nuts about the new extermination dates which had been scheduled much earlier. Everyone was creating havoc in hell during that time,
You came across a page, when you were with Alastor one of those days there was some tension and beef between Alastor and the top face of Vee.
"Oh, that's nothing, my dear! Just a little resident here who thinks he owns all of hell." Alastor said with a big grin,
"Your voice is really nice you know? Can I have those old records of yours that you were going to broadcast but never did?"
"They are just drafts my dear, it's useless."
"If they are so useless, why did you keep them?"
"Maybe I should show it to you someday my dear, I think you'll quite enjoy them. Now go to sleep while I finish some business with some co-workers of mine." Alastor instructed you had a habit of always neglecting your bedtime and sleeping the whole day.
That particular incident flashed before you were woken up with someone kicking your leg and splashing some water.
"I really thought that was some messed up shit you know. You think Lucifer's brat would?"
"Miss Bleeding Heart would probably be dead by now if it isn't that stupid radio demon watching her back all the time."
"Oh, speaking of the radio demon, did the brat wake up already? She sleeps too much; I'll just give her to one of the cannibals."
You woke up but instantly flinched when someone tall, wearing heart-shaped glasses, and a pink coat, type of soul came in front of you.
"How cute." He said amused, "Hey how much money do you think the brat can make?"
"Oh, shut it, Valentino, I didn't ask my henchmen to kidnap her so you could strike some business deal or some shit like that."
"So, listen here bitch, everyone here is horny assholes and if you want to keep that body of yours in peace, you better suck it up and answer all my questions one by one."
"OH, Kinky!" Valentino squealed.
Your heart raced rapidly, it felt like your diaphragm couldn't relax anymore and your mind had gone blank with fear, you would think with those comedic looks they would be good for a few hearty laughs.
But All your friends and you knew they were rivals.
"So did Miss Bleeding Heart and your little boyfriend ever strike a deal or something?"
"M... Miss bleeding heart?" You softly called out,
"Yeah, Lucifer's brat."
"I.. I don't know." You simply said just to be met with a harsh slap, shocking you. "I'm only a human I don't interfere with these things!"
"So, you're telling me, the radio demon has not gone soft after meeting you?"
"How is my personal status of any relevance?" You questioned,
You lay unconscious down below, struggling to get up you took a look around your surroundings, it was dark but a little dim blue light from the TV alerted you; you were bruised, and it hurt to breathe, how did you even survive?
It looked like the corridors were locked, and you were just left discarded here, with your remaining strength you hurried to the T.V., and it was the same page when Vox and Alastor had that little tension.
Could you reach anyone from here?
Judging by your injuries you must have been out at least for two to three days.
Back in the hotel.
It was Husk who noticed that you were literally not anywhere in the hotel, it further confirmed his suspicions, when Sir Pentious and Niffty asked about you, "Where did the goody two shoes go? She's acting like a bad girl!" Niffty huffed.
Everyone had been in a panic, at last when Alastor came back from one of his trips, he would always usually bring you a little trinket or something,
"My dear, sorry I got so caught up--" He realized you were not there.
Two days had passed when no news of your disappearance was updated, but it was getting busy as hell in the hotel and it angered Alastor when he was told to do something that didn't involve tracking you.
One day when Valentino had enough of your refusal he declared, He would ravage you if you didn't open your mouth.
Vox didn't want the entire image to get threatened by the media.
"So how are you, Alastor? Saw the sudden stop with your regular updates."
"Well, you see I'm in a bit of a dilemma myself, a dear friend of mine has been missing."
"Friend?' Vox laughed, "I thought it was more of a plaything?"
He pushed your tired form to the counter, as you barely managed to stabilize yourself.
It was Valentino who grabbed your collar and made you look at Alastor,
Alastor's eyes darkened, a threatening aura had befallen him, which made you nervous. Even if none of the anger was directed towards you.
When he left the remaining support you fell down again, "Exceedingly weak!" Valentino urged, kicking your frail body.
Charlie burst into tears, and Angel instantly bombarded the two with questions, "Did you piece of shi--"
"Anymore and she'll be of good use to me." Valentino warned.
Before the screen was shut.
"That was good don't you think?"
"Now we have to be wary of that Radio demon."
"I'll fucking kill them." Alastor's eyes widened when he recalled your body being manhandled, and thrown with such disregard,
He grew into his demonic form the more he thought about it the more, sadistic the punishments he concocted in his head grew.
"You worry about not letting the hotel fall into shambles, I'll make the Vee wish I'd stay gone."
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Sleepy Baby Part 6
a/n: It’s a little less fluffy.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1500 ish
Summary: Jake and Kisses talk about their pasts.
Previous Masterlist Next
Netflix’s ‘are you still watching’ screen had long since timed out and was now flashing through images of the various shows on the streaming service. Tucked under Jake’s arm and wedged between his body and the back of your couch you watch the changing light from the TV flicker across his face. He is gazing down at you as he runs his fingers up and down your back
“You know, I’ve been with you every evening for the last two weeks,” Jake said, breaking the silence. “When did you stop going to your therapy mandated one hour weekly bar socializing sessions?”
“When some weirdo I met at a bar three months ago tracked me down at work two weeks ago.” you grin up at him as his eyes light up.
“He sounds like a creep, you should stay away from him.”
“Yeah I should, but unfortunately he is really good looking so I went and gave him my number and my address.” You shrug, “I can’t get rid of him now.”
“Good looks are a blessing and a curse.” Jake sighs dramatically and you lean up to kiss his chin.
“It’s ok that you stopped, though, right?” Jake looks down at you, “I don’t want to… I don’t know, impede your progress, or something.”
“It’s ok, she wanted me to go out and meet someone.” You grin up at him, “When I see her tomorrow she will probably be more excited than you were when I gave you my number.”
“Not possible.” he declares. “That was the best day of my life.” You snort at his response.
“Do you want to know why?” You shift so you can rest your chin on his chest. “You can ask, you know.”
“You’ll tell me when you are ready.” Jake shrugs, “I’m in no rush and you’re worth waiting for.” He goes back to running his fingers up and down you back.
“I want you to know. Long story long?” You ask, “or long story short?”
“Long story long,” he replies. You take a deep breath. You want Jake to know, but sharing always gives you a weird feeling, like you are looking for pity. Part of you wants to just info-dump the story and move past it. You are also unsure of how he will respond.
“I started dating my high school boyfriend, Ian, at seventeen,” you tell him on your exhale. “We lived outside Seattle and almost our whole friend group ended up moving there for university.” His eyes are searching yours and you turn your head so your ear is pressed against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is soothing and it is easier to talk without looking at him.
“We got engaged at twenty-three and had the whole wedding planned for when I was twenty-five.” Your breath is shaky as you inhale again. “My mother got really sick about four months before the wedding.” You blink and a tear hits Jake's shirt. “Breast cancer, it was already Stage 4 when they found it and she died about two months later.” You sniff and wipe your eyes. “My father was devastated. He had a heart attack and died about a month after my mom.”
“Oh, Kisses,” Jake wraps both arms more firmly around you and holds you close. “I’m so sorry.”
You relax into his arms, allowing yourself to be held. “They were pretty good parents as far as parents go.” you look up at him. “They had rules and all, but everything was done with humor.” You smile in memory. “Every rule had some kind of dire and completely unrealistic consequence if it wasn't followed. They would tell me to wear my coat in the winter or I would freeze solid and they would turn me into a Christmas lawn ornament and leave me out there until spring, stuff like that. There was a lot of laughter growing up.”
“Must be where you get it from," he says.
“Yeah,” you say sadly. “Not gonna lie, you brought some of that back.” You put your head back on his chest. “We postponed the wedding for a year. The vendors were surprisingly good about it.”
“Ian and Beth, my best friend since the second grade, got me through their deaths.” You laugh humorlessly. “I remember feeling so lucky that my fiancé and my BFF got along so well.” I started seeing Jenn, my therapist, and I was doing a lot better.
“A month before the second wedding date Ian and Beth were killed by a drunk driver when Ian was driving her home one night.”
“Oh, Kisses–” Jake goes to speak but you cut him off.
“That's not the best part.”
“The best part?”
“I mean you could also call it the worst part,” you sit up and look at Jake. “She was giving him a blow job when they were hit.” Jake’s jaw drops and he is staring at you with a horrified expression. “Yeah,” you say wryly. “It turns out they had a little thing going on since high school. All our friends knew but no one told me; I don’t talk to anyone from home anymore.”
“How did you find out?” Jake sits up too, arm resting on the back of the couch.
“The police told me. I was with his parents when I found out and I just started laughing hysterically. They were so mad at me for laughing. I just stood up and walked out of their house. Didn’t help cover the funeral or anything, just left and cut contact.”
“Is that when you moved here?” Jake's eyes are searching your face.
“No, I stayed in Seattle for about a year.” You tell him. “The really funny thing is that it turns out I was the sole beneficiary for one hell of a comprehensive accidental death insurance policy, and since the other driver was speeding and three times over the legal limit when his truck hit their car it paid out in full.”
Jake whistles under his breath. “At least you got something out of it.”
“That’s the way I choose to see it. His parents were upset that kept it all, but I feel like I've earned it.” You shrug, “Money doesn't buy happiness but it did make me feel a little better, it paid for lots of therapy in any case.”
“So after a year of me complaining about Seattle, Jenn asked me why I didn't just move. So I applied for every library position I could find in the country and got hired here and moved to San Diego. We do video call sessions now.”
“For what it is worth, I am so happy you ended up here.” Jake takes your hand in his, kissing your palm.
“Me too,” you grin shyly at him. “I was here for four months before Jenn talked me into going out to bars to socialize. I had been going every week for about two months when I met you. And I played our song.”
Jake makes a face. “In the Navy is not our song, we can’t dance to In the Navy at our wedding.”
“Wow…. You are jumping the gun a bit there with your wedding talk, but we can dance to any song we want at our wedding, if you are not a coward.” You tell him with a grin.
“I’ll find a better song for us,” Jake assures you.
“What kind of experience do you have picking out songs for your relationships? I want to make sure I am trusting an expert.” You tell him.
“I’ll have you know I picked Taylor Swift's Our Song for me and my high school girlfriend.” Jake says smugly. “I’m practically the authority on relationship songs.”
“That song’s a little on the nose. How did that relationship end?” You ask, “Did the song play a role in the downfall?”
“No, with Stacy and I, it was very amicable.” Jake smiles fondly. “She was my neighbor and we started dating when we were like fourteen. We broke up after graduation when we realized that what we wanted from our future careers would not fit together. She is a professional barrel racer now and happily married to a team roper.”
“Did you grow up on a farm, Jake Seresin?” You're grinning ear to ear, trying to picture him in a cowboy hat. Maybe holding a calf.
“No, we lived next door to Stacy's parents' horse ranch.” He says, “Our families are pretty close. I even went to her wedding where we danced to Our Song for old times sake, proving that I pick good songs.”
“Then I shall leave our song choice to the professional,” you tell him dramatically.
You stretch and check your watch, it reads 2:30AM. “It’s too late to drive,” you tell him. “Do you wanna stay the night?” He looks up at you in surprise, it's the first time you have invited him to stay over.
“Yeah,” his voice sounds hoarse and he clears it. “Yes, I do.”
“Then come on,” You take his hand and lead him to your bedroom. You try to hide how fast your heart is beating, but when his fingers shift over the pulse in your wrist and stay there you are sure he knows.
“Do I get to finally see those PJs you described to me the other day?”
You laugh, “No, I’ll save that mystery for another day, you will get to see the sloth PJs. though.”
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AITA for not wanting to wear matching Halloween costumes with my younger sister?
So my little sister (5f) is OBSESSED with the tv show Miraculous Ladybug and wants to dress up as Ladybug for Halloween. The issue is she also wants someone to dress up as Cat Noir (Ladybug and Cat Noir are a superhero duo and love interests for each other for those unfamiliar with the show). My sister always makes someone pretend to be Cat Noir when she plays pretend and I usually go along with her shenanigans. My mom suggested that I dress up with her as Cat Noir, an offer I turned down. Not because I don’t want to dress up at all or anything like that. I really love dressing up for Halloween and it super important to me to make the most of it!
Part of this comes from when I was younger and didn’t get much (if any) choice in my costume so I desperately try to make up for it when I’m older. For context here is a list of costumes I was made to wear and still bother me; any other years were my choice of 2 Costco on sale costumes that my mom and grandma liked best (never included my first choice and alway looker weird because my parents made me cram them over a thick set of pajamas to stay warm, sometimes with a coat of top)
3rd grade: matching with my toddler (at the time) sister, hella glittery and extra Rainbow Dash dresses, including bright blue face paint that stained my face 4/10 made the nursing home we trick or treated in super happy (fond memory) but made me super embarrassed at school
6th grade: neon pink one piece pajamas that had a neon purple tail and a raccoon face on the hood. 1/10 Got me made fun of, i literally didnt have any choice my mom brought them home from the clearance section at target and made me wear it, i got called a furry and my middle school banned hoods so it was practically useless, was too hot to be comfortable.
I had begged to dress up as a Hamilton character and have my 2 little sisters match (one also loved Hamilton and the other was an infant) i even found costumes online and stuff but my parents rejected it because they dislike the fact Hamilton had hip-hop music and were annoyed at my obsession (understandably annoyed but still hurtful)
7th grade: my moms old cat pajamas, a clip on tail that was all bent out of shape, and a uncomfortable cat headband, all covered in cheetah print and pink sequins on the seams 6/10 still got made fun of, got forced to take off the tail at school because it didn’t fit in the chair properly
In 8th grade I compiled a collection of things to dress up as a newsies, all from my grandma’s closet or my own. 8.5/10 I loved it at the time, looked bad because i did my own makeup to look dirty and like i had been beaten up.
In 9th and 10th grade i wore the same elf costume that i begged for 6 months for to match my friends, 10/10 it was pretty and I love it, wasn’t too stoked to have to wear it twice tho bc my favorite part (the corset) didn’t fit last year.
This year i want to choose something different and new, and something I wont be made fun of for and feel confident in. I’m 16, almost 17 and have bad self esteem issues. Halloween is like my favorite holiday because i love being all dressed up and being like a character i enjoy. I usually pay for part of my costume and do my own hair and makeup.
BUT my mom is dead set on the idea that I match my little sister because “i’m getting too old and should just be nice instead of being selfish” or “had plenty of years to have fun, that i should make her Halloween memorable”. When my dad or other sister (11f who also like the show, not to the same degree but does enjoy it) hell even SHE could do it with her but she insists that I should.
AITA for not wanting to? For potential messing up my little sister’s Halloween?
What are these acronyms?
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Here are my first thoughts after finally having watched the 2023 Christmas Special for the first time:
Positive:
Baby Mia is absolutely adorable and Alison and Mike are wonderful parents. They've grown and matured so much throughout the series and it's lovely to see that in the way they are with Mia and take care of her
and speaking of growth: I think it's lovely that in the end, the ghosts are ready to let Alison and Mike go. They've really come full circle from trying to get them to leave in the beginning to begging them to stay in series 5 and finally, to encouraging them to leave because that's what's best for Alison and Mike's family
I love that Alison looks like the tired, exhausted mum she is. These days, characters often look picture perfect in film and TV, no matter the situation, and Ghosts has always felt like a breath of fresh air because people are allowed to look normal. It's little things like Alison's yellow coat that she's worn throughout the show hanging by the door, her wearing Mike's flannels or having bags under her eyes that make it feel beautifully real down to Earth, and I'm glad the downsides of having a child didn't get glossed over
one of my favourite moments was the shrug Humphrey's body gave when everyone was looking for its head. That genuinely made me laugh because of course the body would not care whether the head would get exorcised or not
and omg, the exorcism scene was so well done! I love the music in the background (I so hope we'll get a soundtrack one day), the panic on Mike's face when he quite literally runs to warn Alison, the panic on Alison's face when she's faced with the possibility of losing the ghosts, the fear when she can't find them (which parallels 5x01) and finally the relief and smile when she hears their voices. That whole sequence was just perfect
I love that it's Thomas who says, "Because they just can't help being who they are," because it's not an excuse for his behaviour but an explanation - and a recurring theme for him. Right in the beginning of the show, he said, "We stay how we die," and I think for him, those words have proven to be true. He is heartbroken and he'll stay that way. He can't help that. He does not want Alison to go ("Why did I vote for this? I hate it.") but in the end he knows it's what's best for her and for himself, even if it breaks his broken heart a little more.
seeing Button House in all its glory in the end. It still being called Button House. Fanny and Humphrey's portraits on the wall (and the third one might be Kitty's?). Higham Suite (which was the thing that made me tear up because my first thought was that it's meant to honour Isabelle and I love that (although I realise it's probably meant to honour Kitty but I'm choosing to ignore that)). Thomas still complimenting Alison even though she's grown old and thus making a point that his affections for her were never just about her looks
Neutral:
I would have preferred if Alison and Mike had stayed at Button House because for me, the show has always been about family and I don't think they had to leave the ghosts behind to find their own way. BUT the way the Idiots wrote and executed it - with the ghosts encouraging them to leave, establishing that Alison and Mike regularly come back to the house and with details like Higham Suite that clearly show that Alison and Mike had the ghosts in mind when they made the contract for sale - makes it okay for me.
I'm a bit sad we did not get to see more of the ghosts interacting with baby Mia but what we saw - Pat and Cap especially - was very sweet
Negative:
the pacing. I am so sorry but I think they crammed too much into the episode. They either should have cut the exorcism storyline (as much as I loved it) or gone for a 60 minute special. There's just too much going on for 30 minutes, and too many time jumps (I wasn't a fan of them in the 2021 Christmas Special either) that sadly make the whole episode feel very rushed
and because it felt so rushed a lot of plots did not have the impact they were meant to have, at least not on me. Robin's feelings about Christmas for example.
also what was going on with Kitty and the baby at the beginning? Her being jealous is obviously not a new thing but the issue did not really get resolved, did it?
the latter also goes for Thomas's feelings for Alison which brings me to my biggest criticism of the whole show: he never got the character development he deserved (and, to an extent, neither did Fanny). The whole baby storyline would have been the perfect set up for him to move on from Alison (including discussions about different types of love and him realising that Alison does love him platonically and that that's enough) but it never happened. I feel like he was done dirty in that regard because every other character except him got to grow
I have probably missed a ton of moments - and I will rewatch the episode once I've rewatched series 5 - and likely repeated things here that others have said before. Since I had blocked all tags blocked when the Special aired I have no idea how the fandom's reaction to it was but if anyone still wants to talk about it, my asks are open.
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STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 3 MASHUP 1
Jadzia Dax (Star Trek Deep Space 9) vs Ema Skye (Ace Attorney)
Jadzia Dax is an Astrophysicist and Xenobiologist!
Ema Skye is a Forensic Scientist!
Why you should vote for each contestant:
Jadzia Dax:
"She does a lot of science in space — like xenobiology and physics — but is also the ranking science officer, so she covers a lot of fields. she is an expert in many scientific fields, leads a lot of other scientists, and is a badass starfleet officer who can f you UP in a fight. her alien species is a symbiotic set of species, so Jadzia’s got a worm named Dax in her and has access to all of Dax’s past hosts’ memories & knowledge, part of why she’s an expert in so many fields! but Jadzia, the host, also got multiple degrees in different fields before she was “joined” with her symbiote."
"She is a star trek science officer, so mostly space anomalies and stuff 😄 She is self assured and takes up space and just a joy to watch. All the bi girls love her 💜"
"First F/F kiss on TV"
"IMMORTAL WORM ALIEN WOMAN who has lived EIGHT LIVES and is GENDERFLUID but is CURRENTLY A WOMAN! She's great"
"She is the lead science officer on her space station! Got four degrees in astrophysics, exoarchaeology, exobiology and zoology. She is an amazing researcher! Jadzia is a Joined Trill, host to the Dax symbiont which has lived 300 years. Jadzia became a Starfleet officer and pursued her science studies before then becoming Joined, which means she also has the wealth of knowledge from Dax's multiple lives. She is an amazing scientist and also loves to have fun, and she's a genderfluid pansexual ICON."
Ema Skye:
"I love her a lot and she's very important to me. We get to see her story from being a high school student who's really into science, to becoming a detective, to then finally passing her forensics exam and becoming a forensic scientist like she always wanted. I cosplayed her before"
"Ema has been interested in forensics ever since she was a kid. She's extremely passionate about it. She works very hard and despite bumps along the way she does manage to achieve her dreams/career goal and get into forensic science. She is amazing and I love her enthusiasm and I love her :D When she was like 16 she personally had her own spray bottle(s) of luminol testing fluid, what a dork (in the best way!). Forensic science is practically her whole life. What an inspiration. The first thing on her wiki page is the quote "Yes! Isn't it amazing? Ah, the power of science. It's my life." Bless."
"this girl is so silly. Her favorite thing is luminol. You have an ace attorney pfp you know her. She is my favorite ever. She calls Klavier Gavin a "glimmerous fop" (accurate description). She wears a lab coat over her school uniform. She brings snacks to crime scenes.i love her your honor"
"shes like every enthusiastic autism girl with a science special interest who then gors to college and gets a job and is tired and a mean lesbian but still is a freak about forensics. i love her"
"SHE WORKED SO HARD TO GO INTO FORENSICS. SHE HELPS EVERYONE DO FORENSICS. SHE THEN FAILS WHEN IT COUNTS AND BECOMES BITTER BUT GETS OUT OF THOSE FEELINGS LATER ON. I love her dearly she's so silly and fun when she needs to be, and I think her failure is fascinating but I'm SOOOOO GLAD she was able to become a forensic scientist in the end :)"
"Showed up and gave Apollo random forensics supplies at just the right time. Not sure if this was authorized. Does not Mayte though she can do anything she wants. C’mon man you know her you know why she’s the best you get me right"
"She's fun and good at science and has pink lenses in her glasses and I like her a lot"
"She is so excited to be using her fun little toys to solve crimes."
"She’s a gosh darn professional in a house of fops. Is passionate about her work and was inspired partially by a murder case she was involved in as a witness. She’s really cute and really quirky, and ya girl knows how to snack. She accessorizes really well. I cosplayed as her once and found myself more and more impressed with her style choices as I was putting it together. We stan a fashionable yet practical STEM queen."
"she is literally everythingggg to me. she has wanted to be a forensic scientist since she was 16 y/o and introduces forensic investigation mechanics to the series like luminol and dusting for fingerprints. when she does not get her dream job, she becomes depressed and bitter, only cheering up when she talks about forensic science. later on, when she attains the job, she is much happier! science is her entire life and her career and she is tremendously autistic about it. also she's such a girlboss i love her <3 ema must go through btw. she is the ultimate woman in stem"
"Ema Skye has been interested in forensics for many years due to case that occurred when she was younger. Even though she didn't pass the test to become one at first she had still continued trying till she made it. She always lights up at the mention of anything revolving sciene. She gets so happy when she's able to work with her forensic tools and investigate the crime scene <33"
"Teaches Phoenix wright about forensics"
"she wears a cool lab coat and I don't really know what else to put here but she's neat"
"she is so autistic about forensic science. she goes against the police rules to take fingerprints. she infodumps to anyone who will listen about forensic science. ema is so special to me and I love her very much"
"Ema is a girlboss! She started using forensics and scientific investigation to help solve murders when she was just 15 years old. she autistic and bisexual bc I say so :)"
"Literally the only character in universe that uses hard evidence in trials."
"The skyentific detective…."
"Its literally her personality ok. Just listen to her theme(s). I just love her"
"She is literally me <33 I love her. I need to see her grow up happy and healthy and i need to tell my friends and family about her."
"Wants to be a scientific investigator and solve crimes scientifically, forced to be a cop. Goes from teen with a weird hobby to reluctant cop to everything she ever wanted and I am so proud"
"She’s just a little weirdo. And she keeps trying to be a forensic scientist, but she has to finish high school first. She solved the murder her sister was accused of "
"Forensic science fascinates her. She sure is a woman jn stem. I am sorry I am very tired i dn what to write"
"I need to actually finish AA but it’s her. You probably have more submissions with better reasoning but I like her vibes from what I did play."
"She's got all sorts of cool gadgets which utilize the DS touchscreen"
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Sleepy Time Mirio Togata
Showing that he was stressed out wasn't who Mirio was. Hero work took it's toll after a while, whether you were Endeavor or Hound Dog.
"Lemillion, sir?" One of the many assistants was peeking in his office, "It's after hours." She was right, it was after midnight and Mirio wasn't an overnight hero. Mirio sighed and thanked her for reminding him as she walked off. 1:30 in the morning for a man who was usually home for a delicious dinner and spent an hour watching tv with his beautiful wife was too late and too upsetting. Not only had he not eaten since midday, but he was also unable to spend time with the woman he loved before waking up the next day and doing it again.
The clanging of his locker opening filled the empty changing room, making him groan. If one more thing was loud and bothered his brain, Mirio was sure he would lose it. With his gloves tucked neatly in the bottom of his locker, he kicked off his shoes and placed them in with. An unanswered call home told him that Y/n was asleep, as expected at such a late hour.
Street lights revealed his way home. Mirio just wanted to be home, wished he would've been home hours ago instead of ever having woke up for work. Dark alleyways and brightly lit store fronts assaulted his eyes as he tried to stay focused on road signs and street lights.
He felt guilty, so guilty, for opening the door and dropping his keys loudly. A heavy sigh scratched at his already dry throat, but he could tell that Y/n had gone around and placed her hands on the very wallpaper. Mirio was eternally grateful for his wifes quirk, the way her simple handprint could exude calm like a lavender candle, no matter it's placement.
"Baby?" Mirio spoke softly as he walked into their room, slipping from his jeans. Waking her up wasn't really his plan, but he would love to speak with her for at least a little bit.
Y/n was laid on her stomach, soft snores sliding from her lips and reaching his ears. He loved her, more than he thought was probably healthy, but he loved her. Just the way she was laying, the fact that he knew she wasn't wearing any bottoms under that blanket, and her thin tank top was enough to make him stare. Groaning, he palmed his crotch as he thought about her body. Y/n shifted slightly as Mirio pulled the blanket from her, folding it out of his way as he settled between her legs, using his knee to spread one of her legs wider.
"Baby?" He pressed himself to her back, slipping his hands under her and groping at her breast, "Wake up, honey."
She hummed in her sleep, hardly a reply for the man who wanted to hear her voice, but he wasn't in a position to complain. He'd left her at home all day and missed their time together. The way she wiggled rubbed her bottom on his cock, making him hiss into her skin. Mirio couldn't take it and shoved his boxers off his thighs, "I'm sorry, baby, I know I should wake you up."
He hooked his fingers in her panties and moved the fabric aside, making her groan disapproval at the cold air that he didn't doubt was taunting her cunt as much as it was taunting him. "Just a second, baby," Mirio spit into his hand, rubbing it along his length, "it'll get warm again."
"Oh, hell..." Mirio rubbed his saliva coated tip through her folds, feeling the slight relief only her contact brought him. "Little wider, sweetheart." Mirio bent her knee, picking her up a little to stuff a pillow under her hips. Soft kisses were trailed across her shoulders, his hand gently rubbing his tip around her entrance. "God, I'm sorry, Y/n." Mirio grunted as he pushed all the way in, bottoming out as softly and quickly as possible. The way Y/n's brows knit together and her soft moans went straight through his body and twitched in his dick.
Slow, deep thrusts pulled silent grunts from the tired hero, his hands wrapping back around and groping his lovers breasts. Panted breaths blew heat onto her neck, whiny moans escaping her as a heat in her own body woke her. "M-Mirio?" Her breathy voice caused his grip on her tits to tighten. Mirio placed a chaste kiss to the back of her neck, "I'm sorry, baby."
She gripped the pillow under her head, "Fair trade, since we missed our movie." And Mirio laughed, thrusting deeper into her warmth, "Will you leave a handprint on me?" Fuck, Mirio was almost too far gone in her body that he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer. "Finish this and I will." She nodded, scooting her legs under her to raise her body into him. Mirio leaned back and squeezed her hips. "Hold tight." Was the only warning received before Mirio started pounding into her, his own whimpers joining in with her loud moans.
"Sorry, baby." Mirio panted, grabbing her wrists and holding her up as he went faster, eyes trained on where his cock was disappearing into her, "You're holding me perfectly, I can't take it."
"Oh, yes you can." Her sounds were honey. Mirio was always lost in her voice, but when it was breathy and tired and whining, it was like his dick took on all the thinking. He could feel his tip hitting as deep as her body allowed, her gasps confirming that he was hitting right where she needed him. "Gonna come for me, baby?" Mirio chuckled, dropping her chest into the mattress. Once more, her whines were enough of an answer for him, enough of a silent plea for him to go a little faster. "Shit, Miri!" She moved her ass to meet his thrusts, her breath hitching each time his cock kissed that sweet little spot that she loved. Mirio's eyes rolled back as she came, her cunt squeezing him and milking out his own orgasm.
"I'm sorry, baby, I should've woke you up first." Mirio rested his head on her back. Her giggles reached his ears and she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, leaving her print, "Apologize by making breakfast in the morning."
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Which characters would celebrate pride month and how?
I think all the characters would be happy for pride month, but
Sara Chidouin - Sara gets a few tiny pride flags to place in the pencil holder in her room. She gives a few of them to Joe and Ryoko.
Joe Tazuna - Joe wears all kinds of pride colored accessories during June. Sara doesn't even know where he got half of them. They seemed to just appear.
Gin Ibushi - Gin personally says "Happy pride!" to every LGBTA person he knows.
Keiji Shinogi - Keiji hasn't done much because he doesn't have much emotional energy for anything, but he did give a thumb's up to a pride parade passing by him.
Alice Yabusame - Alice wears his pride pins all month. Some are small and some are big but he's proud to show off who he is.
More Undercut
Reko Yabusame - Reko has plenty of songs about being LGBTA that she looks for any excuse to play. Thankfully pride month is a great opportunity.
Nao Egokoro - Nao paints a beautiful painting of two women in an embrace with saphic colors coating the sky behind them.
Kazumi Mishima - Mishima reads up on different sexualities so he's better informed about the world.
Q-taro Burgerberg - Q-Taro goes out for drinks with his LGBTA friends.
Kai Satou - Kai is happily watching all the LGBTA shows and movies that play on tv. It's a nice to watch while he does chores.
Kanna Kizuchi - Kanna tries to find flowers for her sisters that have the same color as a pride flag. It's harder than it seems but Shin helps her find some in the end.
Shin Tsukimi - Shin participates in rainbow capitalism and sells a box of pride pins at the counter of the convivence store. He's queer and therefore he feels like he should get extra money in June.
Dolls
Ranmaru Kageyama - Ranmaru paints his nails (insert pride flag here that you headcanon them to be) colored. Mostly because of wanted to, but also because Sara and Joe think it's super cool.
Naomichi Kurumada - Naomichi goes to pride and loves the energy. He's goes wearing a headband and wristband in rainbow colors so he can show his pride to be part of the community.
Anzu Kinashi - Anzu wears face paint of different pride flag colors while she's preforming her clown routine. She cuts back on using her mask a bit in June.
Mai Tsurugi - Mai sells rainbow cookies and cakes in specific flag colors.
Shunsuke Hayasaka - Shunsuke wears a rainbow tie.
Hinako Mishuku - Hinako wears rainbow leggings.
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Camp Out - Under Summer Skies Deleted Scene
Author: @helladirections
Pairing: Harry x YN
Word Count: 2k
Contains: Smut
MASTERLIST | PATREON | UNDER SUMMER SKIES | USS TAG | WRITING TAG
Summary: Harry and YN’s cabins go for the campout in tents, but they’re much more concerned with keeping each other warm than supervising campers. This is relatively unedited. I originally wrote this in one of the drafts of this fic but decided to take it out. It was supposed to take place after they got together but before the final smut scene.
Preview:
He kissed her then, gently and carefully, much like he had the very first time their lips touched. She sighed into it, bringing her hands up and around his body to feel his warmth close to her.
“We should get into the tent,” Harry mumbled against her lips.
Y/N whined. “Not done with you yet, though.”
“Never said I was done with you either. But can’t do what I wanna do out here, now can I?”
Read below or on AO3 or Wattpad
But trouble came for them in the form of the campout.
It started out like normal - they hiked to site with the campers, taking up the back of the pack to make sure no one got left behind. Y/N remembered her water bottle this time and Harry had filled it for her, but he still had to remind her to stop walking and take a drink every now and then. They were far enough back from the campers and the campout staff that they could have their own conversation without really bothering anybody. And their conversation was completely tame too - mostly talking about TV shows that they really missed watching but had almost no access to because they were at camp.
The campers didn’t complain too much on the hike, and they participated in the team building activities when they got to the site. The biggest complainer before dinner actually wasn’t a camper, but was Harry.
“‘M so hungry,” he whined.
Y/N looked around for a moment before standing on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Could just eat me.”
After dinner they sang around the campfire as the sun started to go down and the staff made smores for all the kids (who weren’t allowed that close to the fire, no matter how much they complained). Harry even brought out his guitar and led some songs as they snacked.
Most of the kids even went to bed without too much of a struggle. They were in gender separated tents on opposite ends of the campsite, and even though Y/N’s campers had been giggling for weeks about how they would get to see the cute boys around bed time, none of them really seemed to try anything.
Y/N, Harry, Sarah, and Niall stayed up a little longer. Still sitting around the campfire, Harry finally felt it was safe enough to put his arm around Y/N. She melted into his side like she always did, resting her head on his shoulder. When she shivered (even though she was wearing a coat), he rubbed his hand up and down her arm to try and warm her up. The conversation was casual and easy, and Y/N was really genuinely enjoying herself.
There were two staff tents, and no official rules on who was supposed to sleep where. So it made sense that when Sarah and Niall wanted to go to bed early, they would set themselves up in the same tent. They took the one closest to the campers since they were mostly already sleeping.
And then it was just Y/N and Harry.
Sitting around the fire with him was nice. They looked up at the stars together and talked about the universe. Its size is infinite, there’s billions of people in this world, and somehow they had found each other as children. The odds of that happening were so low, and yet that’s exactly what happened. Y/N felt like the luckiest person on the planet.
“So glad you’re in my universe,” Harry whispered to her like a secret.
Y/N couldn't help but smile, a soft blush spreading across her face that luckily he couldn’t see because of the campfire in front of them.
“Me too.”
He kissed her then, gently and carefully, much like he had the very first time their lips touched. She sighed into it, bringing her hands up and around his body to feel his warmth close to her.
“We should get into the tent,” Harry mumbled against her lips.
Y/N whined. “Not done with you yet, though.”
“Never said I was done with you either. But can’t do what I wanna do out here, now can I?”
Giggling, she followed his lead into the last tent, furthest from all the campers and other staff. It wasn’t big, but big enough for two people and their small backpacks. The camp provided sleeping bags were already set up for them on the cold, hard ground.
Immediately she took off her sweatshirt, rolling it up and placing it near the top of her sleeping bag to use as a pillow. Harry followed suit and they began getting ready for bed, changing into the pajamas they had brought with them. Y/N’s pants and shirt were thin, which was great for hot nights in a cabin that had no air circulation but was really inconvenient for a night in a cold tent.
“Love that shirt on you,” Harry admitted.
Y/N completely ignored his comment. “Come close to me, I’m cold.” She grabbed Harry by his shoulder, noticing then that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Put on a shirt, H. You’re gonna get so cold... Geez, when did I start taking care of you.”
“Not planning on putting more clothes on right now, sweetheart,” he teased with a smile.
Even though she was shivering, a heat ran across the apples of her cheeks. And she knew this time that Harry could see it in the light of the lantern they had left on.
“Don’t be embarrassed baby,” he said softly, lifting his hand to rest on her cheek and keep her gaze focused on him. “Gonna make you feel good, I promise.”
She nodded her head. “But it’s so cold. Can we... Can we at least get under the sleeping bags?”
Harry laughed then, giving in to her request. While she waited on the side of the tent, he carefully unzipped both sleeping bags all the way, spreading them out so one had the inside facing up and one had the inside facing down. He lifted up the top one and she happily crawled in. He followed her, turning on his side and wrapping his body around hers, fully encasing her with his arms.
“Warm enough now?” he whispered.
“Mhmm...”
“Good. Because you might be dealing with some cold air when I...”
His sentence drifted off as he lowered the hand that had been resting on her stomach. It traveled slowly, finding the top of her sleep pants. He dragged one finger back and forth across the seam until she was wiggling, just dying for him to do something. Teasingly, he dipped his finger tips inside to find she wasn’t wearing any panties, only to remove them just as quickly.
But when they were interrupted by the sound of a camper laughing about something in the distance, they knew they were in some trouble.
“Gotta be quiet for me, ok? Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she answered through a heavy breath.
“Good girl, keep being good for me,” he encouraged.
His hand dipped back down underneath the waistband of her pants, and he used his leverage on her body to roll her onto her back. With one hand at work, the other arm was supporting his body against the bumpy ground beneath them. From that angle she felt so seen, even though it was dark out. There was no hiding from his prying eyes, not that she felt like she had to anymore anyway.
His fingers got to work, much in the same way they had been working the past several days. He knew what she liked most at this point, and he used that to his advantage. He knew the speed to rub her clit and how to reach her g-spot. He knew when to take a little break and when to go faster. And he knew just how to take her to the edge and then bring her back down again.
“Open your eyes for me, love” he whispered.
She followed his request and found him staring right back at her. His usually bright green eyes, reminiscent of a bottle of rosemary, were blown out by his pupils and relegated to a small sliver.
“Y’got stars in your eyes,” he told her.
Y/N wasn’t sure what that meant, but it felt sweet.
“You know, I don’t think I ever need to go stargazing with you again,” he said, not stopping his ministrations down below.
“You... you... what? Why n-not?” she stammered out between soft pants.
“Can just look into your eyes instead,” he said with a shrug, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
And Y/N wanted to tease him for that answer, she really did. She wanted to shove him away and make fun of him for how much of a sap he was being. Rub his flimsy metaphor in his face and laugh it off. But she couldn’t. Not when he was hard at work making her feel so good and she could barely get any real words out.
At one point she actually tried to say something, opened her mouth and everything. But she quickly realized that if she said anything at all she was going to scream it and they couldn’t have campers and staff waking up to those kinds of noises, so she closed her mouth again instead.
“Feels good?” he asked.
She nodded her head.
“Too good to speak?”
Another nod.
“Good. Means I’m doing my job right... you feel like letting out some noise?”
“Yes,” she whispered, desperately.
“Well you better muffle yourself with that pillow then because I’m not stopping any time soon,” he reminded her.
And it wasn’t fair, not really. Not when his voice was deep with arousal and his face was so close to hers and his words came out in a way that made her feel like mashed potatoes. Not when she knew he loved to hear her noises because it meant he was doing a good job. Not when he was deliberately teasing her with his fingers, somehow managing to give her too much and not enough at the exact same time. None of it was fair at all.
So to level the playing field, Y/N reached over to Harry’s bare stomach. His muscles were tense and hard and his skin was warm. She let her fingers lightly trail over his butterfly tattoo, tracing the delicate outline. His hand never stopped working, but she heard his breath catch in his throat.
When she pushed his shorts beneath his hips, she found his cock hard and aching. He hissed at the first touch. She grasped the base first appreciating his girth. And although she had seen his dick several times over the last few days, they were always in a rush so she never really got to appreciate it. She knew it was big, and pretty, but touching it under the sleeping bag where she couldn’t see it gave her a whole new appreciation.
Using only her hand, Y/N stroked him up and down, giving attention to his tip and playing with his balls. She let her palm dance over the head as he started leaking precum, and heard his gasps as she continued to play with him. His jaw was clenched and he was practically growling in her ear, his forearm so tense the veins were popping out as he thrust his fingers inside of her.
“Babe,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m...fuck I’m gonna cum.”
“Not yet... me first then... fuck... then I’ll swallow so we don’t a m-mess.”
Harry groaned in response before adjusting his hand so the heel of his palm rubbed on her clit as his fingers worked inside of her. She could feel herself clenching around him, the knot in her stomach getting tighter, her eyes squeezing closed. He was good at what he was doing - really good.
Her grip on him loosened before she warned him, “I’m close... Harry...”
“Come on baby, let go. You’re doing such a good job... almost there...” he encouraged her.
He had been whispering in her ear, but when he stopped and bit down on her earlobe, that’s when she lost it. Her entire body went stiff as her muscles clenched, there was white behind her eyes, and her mouth flew open though she was able to keep any sound from coming out. She could hardly even breath.
His movements worked her through her high until she was too sensitive and started wiggling her hips away from him.
“Was so good Harry.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah... now let’s take care of you.”
She sat up on her knees, the unzipped sleeping bag still around her shoulders like a cape to keep her warm. Finding her place between his legs, Y/N leaned down and took him into her mouth. She used her tongue to circle around the head, swiping over the slit just to feel his thighs tighten beneath her grasp. She took him as deep as she could, his tip hitting the back of her throat making Harry groan in response.
She could tell he was close. Bobbing her head up and down, she used one hand to stroke the part of his cock she couldn’t reach with her mouth and the other to play with his balls. He started making little noises above her, clearly trying to keep himself quiet but struggling.
He gave her a short warning before he finished, but she wasn’t prepared for how much cum there would be. It shot down the back of her throat in ropes as she continued to milk him for all he was worth.
When he was done and the last little dribbles had landed on her tongue, she took a second to appreciate the taste in her mouth. And maybe all the other guys she had been with ate really badly or maybe her brain was playing tricks on her because she liked Harry so much, but she could swear that it actually tasted good for once.
When she told him as much, his smile reappeared on his exhausted face.
“Good, glad you like it. You’ll be getting a lot more of it, if I have anything to say about it.”
She giggled at that before adjusting the open sleeping bag like a blanket over herself and resting her head on Harry’s chest. Her hand rested on his stomach, and his lay on her shoulder and in her hair, keeping her close. They were in old sleeping bags, in a tattered tent, on cold hard ground, but Y/N could swear she never slept so well in her life.
MASTERLIST | PATREON | UNDER SUMMER SKIES | USS TAG | WRITING TAG
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in every fandom there comes a time when you have to ask yourself, ok but what classes would these characters be if they were in D&D
overlong headcanons/design notes under the cut:
I based this AU off my rudimentary knowledge of D&D and it’s classes, but I’m taking creative liberties and it can be thought of as just a general fantasy rpg-style thing. Ended up being a mix match of comics and MCU but it’s an AU so hey it’s fine right lol
KAMALA - Sorcerer/Monk
Arguably one of the hardest to actually decide a class for?? I’m imagining her powers here as more akin to those she has in the MCU show; they’re something innate to her, passed down through her bloodline (and possibly unlocked by some event or heirloom as in the case of the TV show). I think the way she fights would be something closer to a monk, though? After awakening her powers, she journeys around helping people in the same way as she becomes Ms Marvel, both on her own and with the party.
Kamala’s design is based pretty much entirely off the Mystic Marvel design (originally I believe from Champions, also in the Avengers game)! I saw this design and my brain instantly went brrrr because it basically combines my two fave marvel heroes (Dr Strange and Kamala)!! I changed a few parts of the design, and simplified the shirt a bit. I think it suits Kamala well for a fantasy AU - even in the main comics she wears an outfit that’s comfy and easy to move in!
NAKIA- Sorcerer/Cleric
Since Nakia is the only sensible one here, it made sense for her to be the (begrudging, probably) healer. I think it suits her personality well too though! I’m imagining here that her powers are innate (like a sorcerer), but she just uses healing magic the most (like a cleric). More similar perhaps to something like the cleric class in Fire Emblem Awakening, where clerics are often religious but their powers aren’t something directly conferred by the gods.
Nakia’s design is based entirely off of her Storm Sage look in Ms Marvel (2015) #38 (aka the one where the gang gets isekai’d) Once again simplified it a little and softened some of the shapes (since it’s more of a villain look in the comic, but she’s obvs a good guy here)
BRUNO - Wizard/Artificer
Bruno’s outfit is also partly inspired by #38 (esp for colour scheme), but I mainly just did my own thing for what I thought he should look like in a fantasy AU ahahah. Gave him a long coat because if there’s one thing I love more than wizards, it’s wizards with long coats lmao
To me the D&D wizard class is much more the ‘study and research’ side of magic so it think it works well for the scientifically inclined Bruno. The thirst for knowledge and hubris (all the benchmarks of a good wizard character, really) are also very fitting for him, I think..!!
He’s a natural prodigy of magic and manages to get accepted to a prestigious and exclusive magic school but is kicked out after The Accident. Leaves to find somewhere else that’s willing to teach him since he can’t accept the idea of not learning magic. Meets Kwezi and the rest plays out much as it does in the comics
His prosthetics are powered with some kind of Magical Rock (call it a magic substitute for vibranium), and made by Kwezi. I’m undecided whether they’re grafted onto his arm/leg or it’s a whole Full Metal Alchemist situation but maybe a bit of both? The arm also acts as a conduit of sorts for casting his own magic (hence where the artificer class comes in). As he makes all sorts of stuff for Kamala in the comics/show I think him having the ability to craft magical items also fits well. Probably learns that magic from Kwezi. Which brings us to...
KWEZI - Artificer
Another magical prodigy, but I see Kwezi as more of a support type to Bruno’s spellcaster. The embodiment of chaotic good. I think he’d be mainly a crafter of magical items (sort of like Olruggio in Witch Hat Atelier?)
His background in this AU is the same as in the comics, and him and Bruno go adventuring a bit themselves before joining up with Kamala and co eventually. I think he’d be pretty sheltered when it comes to travelling outside fantasy-Wakanda, especially compared to Bruno, so hijinks ensue. (Side note, but I absolutely adore that contrast when it comes to Kwezi & Bruno’s dynamic, I’m so in love with them both)
The green cloak-wrap is inspired by his formal outfit in Ms Marvel (2015) #30, and the harem pants are from #29. I think comfy, practical clothes suit Kwezi, and I like that the colour scheme for him is a nice contrast with Bruno!
KAREEM - Rogue
Probably the easiest class to decide on because really what else could it be?? I’m undecided on whether Kareem should have his origin from the MCU show or the comics for this AU - personally I prefer comics but I do think a secret society sort of thing would work well for a fantasy AU so I’m leaning a bit more towards that perhaps.
His design is a mix of MCU, comics and my own take on it to make it a little more fantasy/rogue-like.
KAMRAN - Sorcerer
Probably the only one here (except maybe Kareem) who’s primarily based off his MCU appearance rather than the comics. I see him as being initially a bit more of a bad guy than in the show though, a sort of misguided villain who eventually ends up joining the party (see: Zuko in ATLA)
He’s grown up with the Clandestines (probably some kind of cult here) and he generally believes in their mission, so it takes a little more for him to turn on them. As a sorcerer his powers manifest suddenly and he doesn’t understand how to control them at first. The Clandestines probably want him to use his powers to their ends, and that, along with run-ins with Kamala gets him questioning whether he should continue to follow them or turn away from the only family he’s ever known...
Kamran’s design was probably the hardest to figure out, since he only really has appearances in regular clothes, and no canon alternate designs to work off of (like Nakia/Bruno/Zoe). In the end I was thinking of the Clandestines and what they might wear in such a setting? The blue colour scheme is based off the jacket he wears in ep 6 (probably his most iconic MCU look) and also his coat/scarf look in Ms Marvel (2014) #13. I don’t think I captured Kamran’s likeness very well here but his outfit actually turned out to be one of my faves, so swings and roundabouts hahah
ZOE - Fighter
I’m imagining Zoe in this AU is the daughter of some lowly noble family (a big shot in the town that her and the gang are from, not so much elsewhere). After a run in with some bandits where she’s saved by Kamala, she resolves that she needs to get stronger. Not the strongest nor the most skillful fighter, but she’s trying her best!!
Zoe’s design is inspired by her fantasy look in #38 (the pink tunic in particular), but I changed and added some details to it. Her cloak I swapped out for the pink scarf, as inspired by her stint as Ms Marvel!
BECKY - Paladin-->Warlock & JOSH - ???
The actual bad guys of this AU ahahah. I’m imagining here that the events of Civil War II play out pretty much the same in this AU as in the comics. Becky starts out as a paladin with generally good intentions, but when she crosses a line she gets disowned (is that the right word?? probably not) by her god. Unable to deal with it, she turns instead to darker powers, making a pact and becoming a warlock.
I haven’t really thought about what class Josh would be... maybe a fighter as well (to match Zoe?), but I’m imagining him as a sort of mysterious Black Knight type figure, hence the you haven’t unlocked this character yet question marks lmao
Their designs are based entirely off their lockdown/discord appearances, just adapted into fantasy-armour style. I think the designs carried over really well, actually (definitely helped by the excellent colour schemes!)
And there you have it LOL I have no idea if I’m gonna do anything more with this AU but just wanted to share the brainrot, so if you got this far THANKS..... any thoughts/suggestions for other characters I should add are always welcome!!
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Ok so my friend and I just recorded 4 HOURS of raw audio breaking down the OUAT pilot, season 1 finale, and discussing the show in general for our new podcast where we make each other watch episodes of our favorite shows and talk about them together. It’s exactly as fun as you would imagine. :)
But even after all that, I still have things I forgot to say or didn’t get to. So here’s a few of them:
1. “Evil” as addiction: the OUAT writers treat the concept of being evil like addiction/substance abuse which is really interesting and kind of a bold choice for a 2011 show about fairytales. Then within that structure they show basically the two choices you have when facing addiction: choose not to use and become a better, healed version of yourself (Regina) or keep using and stay stuck in your patterns and hurt everyone you love forever (Rumple). As a child of an alcoholic who has chosen the latter, I loved watching Regina’s journey in this context and while she stumbles a lot, she keeps striving to be good even though she gets the short end of the stick most of the time. And her North Star is always Henry, which I think is important to show that you don’t just change because you feel like it, there usually has to be the threat of something worse happening if you don’t change (in this case, losing Henry physically and emotionally).
2. Regina Mills might be the most psychologically complex and interesting character on prime time tv in the 2010s? Period??
3. I rambled a good bit in the podcast about the costumes and color symbolism but here’s a bit more for you: Once Regina is on team heroes she often wears some kind of red top (the hero’s color) with a black jacket/coat over it showing that she’s changed on the inside but she still *looks* like the evil queen on the outside and can now use that persona/power to her advantage instead of being consumed by it. By the end of S5 this contrasts with Emma who wears her signature red jacket but a black/white/gray sweater underneath, showing that she’s a little more of a mix of good and evil these days post-dark one. In a color sense, they’re almost mirror images of each other at this point, and it’s really cool.
4. I know a lot of people are really salty about how Emma’s light kind of dims toward S4, 5, 6, and I’m right there with you. Her character feels flatter, and honestly kind of depressed. Now idk if this was a real choice on the writers’/JMo’s part, if she was going through some stuff at this time and it just showed up in the character, or what. That said, it does track for me in a way, especially post-dark one. She should be kind of thrown off by everything that’s happened! She should be changed! I just wish they had done something with it instead of pretending it was normal. If Regina’s struggle with evil is analogous to addiction, why can’t Emma’s struggle with evil be analogous to depression? It would have been an interesting take. Somebody write the fic.
I could keep going but I’ll stop here for now. Stay tuned for the podcast!
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Varney the Vampire: Chapter 12
Chapter 11: Oh boy, Gothic ableism feat. implied racism; Charles Holland has Plans
Chapter XII.
CHARLES HOLLAND'S SAD FEELINGS. -- THE PORTRAIT. -- THE OCCURRENCE OF THE NIGHT AT THE HALL.
This chapter is fully twice as long as the previous one, so you can imagine how I felt when I got a couple thousand words in and it just! kept! going! It's 4900+ words, y'all. Colin Robinson feasts tonight. As such, it's helpful to me to break it up into sections—like movements in a symphony, really, except that all four movements are inhumanly long renditions of "Free Bird."
I. PREVIOUSLY ON: Charles Holland still feels a way about it (530+ words)
As noted in the previous chapter, it would have been one thing if Flora had been a strumpet, or if Charles Holland (who I literally cannot just call "Charles," that's just how it is) had fallen out of love with her, but Flora transparently trying to break up with him For His Own Good gives him a sad. The reason she wants to break up is also pretty alarming:
Fortune he had enough for both; death had not even threatened to rob him of the prize of such a noble and faithful heart which he had won. But a horrible superstition had arisen, which seemed to place at once an impassable abyss between them, and to say to him, in a voice of thundering denunciation, --
"Charles Holland, will you have a vampyre for your bride?"
The thought was terrific.
Oh, the thought is fantastic. "Will you have a vampyre for your bride" is PEAK goth; in my opinion it's 100% relationship g—oh. You mean it's terror-ific. I mean... if you have no sense of adventure, I guess.
II. Charles Holland looks at a painting (670+ words)
Charles Holland is settling down in Flora's room to wait for a motherfucker to try it. We're looking at the painting of Sir Ancestor von Spookyportrait, who is wearing a 1700s coat that matches the handful of cloth pulled off Varney. You see where we're going with this.
The picture, as a picture, was well done, whether it was a correct likeness or not of the party whom it represented. It was one of those kind of portraits that seem so lifelike, that, as you look at them, they seem to return your gaze fully, and even to follow you with their eyes from place to place.
Spooky trompe l'oeil (OR IS IT?). Impeccable vibes.
For a considerable number of words, Charles Holland remains staring at this painting:
"I shall now," he said, "know that face again, let me see it where I may, or under what circumstances I may. Each feature is now indelibly fixed upon my memory -- I can never mistake it."
This will obviously become a plot point.
III. Charles Holland tries to move a painting (840+ words)
After the panel containing the picture had been placed where it was, it appeared that pieces of moulding had been inserted all around, which had had the effect of keeping it in its place, and it was a fracture of one of these pieces which had first called Charles Holland's attention to the probability of the picture having been removed. That he should have to get two, at least, of the pieces of moulding away, before he could hope to remove the picture, was to him quite apparent, and he was considering how he should accomplish such a result, when he was suddenly startled by a knock at his chamber door.
POINTS:
holy shit the probability of the molding I don't give a fuck
Suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, at Charles Holland's chamber door: Poe's "The Raven" was published in the U.S. the same year, 1845, that Varney the Vampire began serialization. I'm not saying there's a connection, I just think that's fun.
Random knockings in dark halls also made me think of my favorite TV genre: paranormal investigation.
Now, while I'm primarily a Ghost Files/Buzzfeed Unsolved fan because having an actual skeptic completely changes the usual Ghost Show vibe, I also enjoy a ton of shows on Discovery Plus that involve investigators getting spooked and flipping the fuck out. (Honestly, the real appeal of any of these shows is the personalities involved; it's not like I actually need to see eight different takes on Waverly Hills Sanatorium.) One of my favorites is the recently-canceled, soon-to-be-revived Destination Fear, where a group of friends ride around in an RV and torment each other in dark abandoned buildings that may or may not be riddled with squatters. Sometimes there is a stray cat. I suspect a lot of it was faked, and I honestly don't even care. They are constantly hearing random slams and knocks and voices, maybe, and shrieking in panic when a camera falls over, and I love it. What I'm telling you is, I am basically imagining Charles Holland as one of the Destination Fear kids in their solo sleeping arrangements, trying to decide if he wants to go barreling after this ghost or not. This is an experiment in fear and he can't call Dakota on the walkie and say he wants to peace out because he can't let this location get the best of him!!:
"I will remain the occupant of this room come what may, happen what may. No terrors, real or unsubstantial, shall drive me from it: I will brave them all, and remain here to brave them."
The thing is, it's "an odd sort of tap -- a single tap, as if some one demanded admittance, and wished to awaken his attention with the least possible chance of disturbing any one else." This happens, like, four times, and Charles Holland keeps flinging the door open and no one is there. I have no idea who this is supposed to be—it can't be Varney, because he has enough corporeal substance to be unable to haul himself over a garden wall, and therefore he can't vanish instantly. If it's a ghost who can vanish, we've never heard of them, and I don't recall that we do later. I am forced to conclude that it is one of James Malcolm Rymer's creditors asking if he's gotten his pay by the line yet.
IV. Charles Holland and Henry look at a painting (1020+ words)
At last, Henry emerges from his own bedroom at the sound of Charles Holland repeatedly demanding who the fuck happens to be tapping, rapping at his chamber door, and now Charles Holland is vexed that he looks like a coward who couldn't handle it. In contrast, the Destination Fear kids are always walkie-ing each other to GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW, A FALLING BRICK DID ME A SCARE!!! and then pelting through the ruins of some heinous crumbling hospital past a Tall Dark Mass named Red (it's always named Red) and maybe a couple of crawlers (there's always a crawler) to save each other from nothing in particular. I've watched the entire series like five times. I would pay good money for an adaptation of Varney where Charles Holland and the Bannerworth brothers are panicking at each other from the various mansion bedrooms over, like, tin cans tied together with string.
Anyway, Henry and Charles Holland look at the painting of Ancestor von Spookyportrait and try to pry it off the wall. It's painted on a panel rather than a hanging canvas. Someone has recently pried it off and put it back! It's eminently priable! They cannot do it, for they do not have any tools to do so, except then they have a knife out of nowhere that they can use, because you keep knives in bedrooms the way you do crowbars and swords, and they finally get the portrait off the wall.
There is nothing behind the portrait.
"There is no mystery here," said Henry.
"None whatever," said Charles, as he tapped the wall with his knuckles, and found all hard and sound. "We are foiled."
"We are indeed."
V. Someone shoots a vampyre, again, maybe (790 words)
Even as he spoke they were both startled by a strange clattering noise at the window, which was accompanied by a shrill, odd kind of shriek, which sounded fearful and preternatural on the night air.
"What is that?" said Charles.
"God only knows," said Henry.
I didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for Henry back when he was moping around the family crypt, but I'm starting to get on board now. What WAS that? God only knows for 800 words of it, Henry. God only knows.
The two young men naturally turned their earnest gaze in the direction of the window, which we have before remarked was one unprovided with shutters, and there, to their intense surprise, they saw, slowly rising up from the lower part of it, what appeared to be a human form. Henry would have dashed forward, but Charles restrained him, and drawing quickly from its case a large holster pistol
What? Do we also keep pistols in bedrooms? Flora's bedroom? Did Charles Holland just know to bring his trusty Large Holster Pistol with him from Somewhere in Europe? Do we keep them in cases or holsters? What?
He pulled the trigger -- a loud report followed -- the room was filled with smoke, and then all was still.
Like, this is great. Cinematic before there was cinema. And then Rymer has to dither around with hundreds of words about how the smoke blew out the only candle they had (I hope to fuck y'all have matches), and the window latch is too fancy for Charles Holland to fathom and he needs Henry to unfasten the fastening because the fancy fastening is known only to Henry, and then Rymer goes into the perfect bullet hole in the glass that did not cause any cracking or "starring," and I had to go take two Advil and lie down. Like. I can't. I cannot when Rymer does this. I mean, I comprehend perfectly what's happening. I just. I Just. So what are we, 3000 words into this chapter about staring at paintings? SUDDENLY AN ACTION SCENE BREAKS OUT. Henry's brother George and their mother's—somebody—Mr. Marchdale rush in! Henry flings the fascinating fastened window open! Henry and Charles Holland and Marchdale (eventually) leap down to the garden in "a wonderfully short space of time"! Indubitably, here is the terrestrial location where the vampyre must have gotten his sad ass shot, again—
But nothing is there. No blood. No vampyre. No "revivified corpse" that Charles Holland was so sure they'd be able to net, and that was the foundation of his optimism. Woe:
"Human means against such an appearance as we saw to-night," said Charles, "are evidently useless."
VI. You must leave Spookyportrait Manor (200+ words)
A brief movement in the symphony, but an important aspect:
"My dear young friend," said Marchdale, with much emotion, as he grasped Henry Bannerworth's hand, and the tears stood in his eyes as he did so, -- "my dear young friend, these constant alarms will kill you. They will drive you, and all whose happiness you hold dear, distracted. You must control these dreadful feelings, and there is but one chance that I can see of getting the better of these."
"What is that?"
"By leaving this place for ever."
We've seen in previous chapters how Henry just cannot cope with any vampire-themed revelations, and maybe I'm too hard on him for that—mostly it's because I always see him in contrast to Flora, the actual victimized person, who has wailed a good bit less about it. But I've always liked that literary Victorian masculinity seems to leave more room for tears and expressing distress (many of you are familiar with this from Dracula, I'm sure, and that's one of my favorite things about it), so maybe I should take that into consideration. However you see it, the serial has definitely established that Henry is very emotional about the Whole Vampyre Thing. But why Marchdale breaks in now, while Henry is merely "silent" and "lost in wonder" with Charles Holland, I don't know. Should we consider this sus? Unsure.
What's important about this to me, however, is that Henry does bring up that he doesn't want to be Driven from the Home of His Ancestors—but also, that they can't afford to flee the mansion and, by necessity, sell off the property cheap to pay their creditors and have anything to live on somewhere else. How many times have you yelled at someone in a horror movie to just LEAVE! WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE?!? Well: money.
VII. As regards Flora (870+ words)
"As regards poor dear Flora," said Mr. Marchdale, "I know not what to say, or what to think; she has been attacked by a vampyre, and after this mortal life shall have ended, it is dreadful to think there may be a possibility that she, with all her beauty, all her excellence and purity of mind, and all those virtues and qualities which should make her the beloved of all, and which do, indeed, attach all hearts towards her, should become one of that dreadful tribe of beings who cling to existence by feeding, in the most dreadful manner, upon the life blood of others -- oh, it is dreadful to contemplate! Too horrible -- too horrible!"
Quick recap: in the previous chapter, we discussed 1) the weirdness of this serial conflating a contagion with a "race" or "tribe" of beings; 2) the way Victorians often associated mental illness with both violence and [racist bullshit here], and 3) the way that they also cast all of these things as a "family stain" that must not be passed to your children, and yet, 4) Flora is also visually coded as being white, fair, "pure," and immune to any stain. Marchdale's blathering touches on the contagion idea without confusing it with heredity, at least. But Victorian ideals of beauty were tied up in whiteness (source: there are so many), so that historical subtext is present. Also, the word tribe: not a great usage right here!
That said, I also have a long-suppressed rant about the way people don't get that Lucy Westenra needs to be played as sweet and pure and lovingly innocent (I think wanting three husbands is very sweet! Desire isn’t impure! Wait why are Victorians throwing me in an asylum), in order to underline the real horror of the woman we knew, corrupted into an unrecognizable predator. And that's the excellence and virtue and purity of mind that make Flora the beloved of all—which sounds very Lucy to me—that Marchdale is talking about. Ultimately, if you put that paragraph under the microscope, you can isolate what you need to discard and what you could keep, and the sweetness of character is something that works.
Meanwhile, I have the temerity to claim that James Malcolm Rymer is long-winded. Go off, Charles Holland:
"Then wherefore speak of it?" said Charles, with some asperity
We're back to the thing Rymer mentioned umpteen thousand words ago: how Marchdale and Charles Holland hated each other on sight, for (allegedly) no reason. Charles Holland does not appreciate your bullshit, Marchdale, and he "will not give into such a horrible doctrine!" Marchdale tries to backpedal with a reply I had to read five times to parse, but I think he is saying that if anything could make this whole Vampyred Flora situation worse, it's that Charles Holland is such a stand-up dude and it's a shame the young couple can never marry now. BET? says Charles Holland. "May Heaven forbid it!" ripostes Marchdale, who just. cannot. quit:
"Oh, fancy, then, for a moment, the mother of your babes coming at the still hour of midnight to drain from their veins the very life blood she gave to them. To drive you and them mad with the expected horror of such visitations -- to make your nights hideous -- your days but so many hours of melancholy retrospection. Oh, you know not the world of terror, on the awful brink of which you stand, when you talk of making Flora Bannerworth a wife."
Aaaaand here we are back at the Do Not Propagate the Family Stain discourse. I told you.
That said! It is a Vampire Literature Trope that the vampire preys on the people who were closest to them in life, particularly a betrothed, from Lenore and The Bride of Corinth forwards. As noted on that very handy Wikipedia page, Byron's The Giaour (1813) specifically says that first, the vampire will first "ghostly haunt [its] native place, / And suck the blood of all [its] race"—daughter, sister, and wife included. I can't say what Rymer did or didn't read, but if he had Byron in mind, the idea is twisted so that the wife/mother, the Victorian "angel of the home," is the predator: extra unnatural.
Meanwhile, Henry is trying to get Marchdale to stop, but Marchdale just! will! not! Charles Holland will hear no more of this!! "Fine, I'm done," says Marchdale. "YOU COULD HAVE JUST NOT," says Charles Holland. "It was my SOLEMN DUTY," bloviates Marchdale. Charles Holland uses sarcasm!! It's so wordy effective that Marchdale abruptly threatens to flounce:
"To-morrow, I leave this house," said Marchdale.
"Leave us?" exclaimed Henry.
"Ay, for ever."
So now Henry has to coddle this asshole's disingenuously hurt feelings—I really wanted to like Marchdale, but come on, y'all, this guy is every mother-in-law on AITA. "I was just trying to help, I guess you hate me!!" Have you seen the Reddit essay about "boat-rockers" and their enablers? Basically, Henry has to get Charles Holland to steady the boat with him, even though the latter just got here and has no desire to cater to whichever random, non-Flora family member. Charles Holland does manage to say that if saying he's sorry Marchdale got his feelings hurt is an apology, then he'll say that he's sorry Marchdale got his feelings hurt (it's not). BUT KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT FROM NOW ON, YOU DON'T EVEN GO HERE:
"I will not allow this monstrous superstition to tread me down, like the tread of a giant on a broken reed. I will contend against it while I have life to do so." [...] "Come weal or woe -- come what may, I am the affianced husband of [Henry's] sister, and she, and she only, can break asunder the tie that binds me to her."
Which Flora already did two chapters ago, like, five times, but in a very "I clearly don't want to say this but we can't just talk to each other like normal people or there wouldn't be a plot" way, so I'll allow it. *gavel*
Varney the Vampire masterpost
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Today's @glowweek prompt!
Day 4: Nurture
Just a Cold
Steven's morning started just like any other. Get up just before Connie, kiss her warm forehead, shower and get breakfast and coffee ready. Connie works hard with her career, so Steven works just as hard to support and care for her in turn.
With one last finishing touch, the perfect breakfast bagel sandwich is done! Coffee is ready and steaming in Connie's favorite mug. The last step is for his favorite person in the whole universe to come trudging down the stairs, hair disheveled, cute, grumpy little scowl on her face as she makes a beeline for the mug of coffee.
Steven waits, and waits, and waits some more. Checking the clock he realizes if Connie doesn't come down soon she's going to be late. Connie's not much of a morning person, but she's never late! Steven decides to give her another minute before he goes to check on her. Connie doesn't like being pushed too much in the morning, especially before her first dose of caffeine, so Steven tries to give her her space usually.
Finally, movement can be heard as true to form Connie comes trudging down the stairs. Only, she's not dressed, instead she's wrapped in their fluffy warm blankets, eyes bloodshot, sniffling quietly.
“Hey Steven, I called in to work today. I think I've got a cold.” She says through a stuffy nose.
“A cold!? You're sick? You never get sick! How did you get sick!? Should I try to heal you?” Steven fusses around her.
“I probably got it from not wearing a coat in the rain yesterday. Don't worry, it's just a cold. I'll be fine tomorrow, for today I just need to rest.”
Steven gently places his hand on her forehead. She does feel a little warmer than usual. He had noticed she seemed somewhat warm when he kissed her earlier, but it hadn't even occurred to him she might be sick!
“Don't worry Connie. I'll take care of you today! Anything you need!”
Steven guides her to their comfy couch, bundling her up all tight and cozy in their blankets, and fluffs the pillows for her. He goes back over to the kitchen, dumps out the coffee and rinses the mug before filling it with crisp cool water and returning to Connie. She gratefully sips on the water as Steven brings her breakfast over and places it on the coffee table along with the remote for their little TV.
“Anything else I can get you?” He asks.
Connie smiles at Steven, shaking her head. It's been so long since anyone has taken care of her like this. Last time she had a cold she was still a kid, maybe before she'd started training with Pearl? Either way, her mom had stayed home with her all day, keeping her comfortable, and making sure she stayed hydrated. She’d fuss about, check Connie's temperature every hour, cook her some healthy, immune-supporting foods, and spoil Connie a little bit by letting her watch whatever she wanted on TV. Sometimes she'd even give Connie one of her rare, amazingly delicious, cups of homemade hot cocoa to soothe a sore throat. Now Steven is filling that roll, tucking her in again, putting her favorite show on the TV, and getting her a fresh cup of water.
“Thank you Steven. I'll be alright.”
Steven spends the rest of the day fussing over Connie, while Connie spends the rest of the day basking in the attention and love from her fiance. Especially when he sits on the floor next to her, gently running his fingers over her scalp and through her hair the way she loves. He makes her feel so safe and comfortable.
He'll make a great dad someday, she can tell.
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The Violet Professor From Another Region
Professor Turo x Male Reader
“Y/N, honey?” Y/N’s mom asked as she walked into his room. The trainer was busy watching a Pokémon match from Galar. His partner Pikachu was sitting next to him, as his ears perked up at the sound of Y/N’s mom entering the room.
“Chaa!” Pikachu cried excitedly as he ran to Y/N’s mom as she scratched behind his ears, a gentle smile on her face.
“Yeah, mom?” Y/N asked, turning his head away from the TV and towards his mother.
“Professor Oak just called. He wants you to come to his lab as soon as possible.”
“Did he happen to mention why?”
“Not in so many words, just that he’s examining some Pokémon from another region.”
“What, really?” Y/N cried excitedly. New Pokémon from another region? Cool!
“Well, I guess you should not keep him waiting then,” Y/N’s mom suggested.
Y/N nodded his head as he turned off the TV and put on his shoes as he grabbed his hat and put Pikachu on his shoulders as he ran out of the room and down the stairs, to outside as he ran down the road that would lead Y/N to the Oak Ranch, that also served as a Pokémon lab. Y/N passed different houses as he made way towards the lab, excited thoughts in his head.
“I wonder what the new Pokémon will be like, don't you Pikachu?” Y/N asked.
“Pikachu,” Pikachu said.
Y/N walked up the stairs towards the laboratory before opening the door and walking inside. Y/N heard voices from the back room and headed towards them as he walked into the lab where all the research was conducted and where all the starter Pokémon were given to new trainers.
Y/N saw an older man with gray hair, wearing a white lab coat. He was talking to another man, who was also wearing a lab coat, but Y/N couldn't see his face, as his back was turned towards him. When Professor Oak took notice of Y/N, he smiled warmly. “Ahh, Y/N, my boy, come in, come in. We were just about to get started.”
“Thank you. My mom said you were examining Pokémon from another region?”
“Yes, that's correct.” Professor Oak turned the man who was standing next to him. “This was the exceptional young man I was telling you about.” Y/N let out a small gasp as the other Professor turned to him. He was tall and really handsome. He had light brown that was faded on both sides of his head. He had brown eyes, and a five o clock shadow. The new Professor wore a strange purple suit underneath his coat that reminded Y/N of a wetsuit.
“Y/N, meet Professor Turo.”
The Professor turned to Y/N and smiled at him, making the Pokémon trainer blush and his heart skip a beat. “Hello, there, Y/N. It's finally nice to meet you.” He held out his hand for Y/N to shake. Y/N gulped and tried to remember how to talk and not drool as he grabbed the Professor’s hand with his own and shook it. “I–It’s nice to meet you too, Professor Turo.”
“Please, call me Turo”, Professor Turo said.
“Professor Turo was just about to show me the starter Pokémon from his region,” Professor Oak said. “Right?”
“Yes, that's correct. Would you like to meet them, Y/N?”
“Yes, I would. Very much,” Y/N smiled.
“Very well, then.” Professor Turo took out three Poké Balls from his coat pocket and enlarged the first one by pressing the center of the ball. It expanded in his hand as Professor Turo tossed it up into the air as it opened up and a bright light came out of and onto the floor as it began to take shape and form a solid Pokémon. Once the light faded, a Pokémon that looked like a green kitten with a pink nose and eyes as it looked around the room, curiously swishing its tail back and forth.
“Sprigatito. Ito?” It asked.
“This is Sprigatito,” Professor Turo introduced. “The Grass Cat Pokémon. Capricious and attention seeking, it may sulk if it sees its Trainer giving attention to a Pokémon other than itself.”
“Wow, it’s so cool,” Y/N commented as the grass feline came up to him and rubbed its body against Y/N’s legs. Y/N could smell something sweet coming from this Pokémon. “What’s that wonderful smell?”
“When Sprigatito kneads and rubs with its forepaws, or body against another, a sweet aroma is released that can mesmerize those around it. This aroma has therapeutic qualities and makes opponents lose their will to battle.”
The Professor took out another ball and enlarged it as well,before opening it up for the next Pokémon. This one was a duck with dark blue eyes and light blue webbed feet and it wore a coif on its head. “Next up, Quaxly. The Duckling Pokémon. It’s a water type,” Professor Turo said. “This serious-mannered Pokémon will follow in its Trainer’s wake. It’s tidy, and it especially dislikes getting its head dirty. It has strong legs and is able to swim without difficulty even in places with strong currents. In battle, it kicks its opponents swiftly and repeatedly.”
Y/N looked at the water Pokémon. “Sounds like a powerful battler if you ask me.
“Qua,” It said.
“And finally the last one.” Professor Turo tossed the last Poké Ball and it opened to form a Pokémon that looked like a red crocodile. It had a yellow square in the center of its tummy and yellow tufts of hair. “This is Fuecoco. The Fire Croc Pokémon. Fuecoco is laid-back and does things at its own pace. It loves to eat, and it will sprint toward any food it finds with a glint in its eye. Flickering atop Fuecoco’s head is fire energy that is leaking out from inside the Pokémon’s body. When Fuecoco gets excited, its head spouts more flames.”
“Sounds like such a relaxed Pokémon. So amazing,” Y/N said, looking at the laid back Pokémon.
“Co,” Fuecoco yawned.
“Yes, and very different from the Kanto starters,” Professor Oak said.
Professor Turo turned to Y/N. “Y/N? Professor Oak says that you're quite the battler. Is that true?”
“Oh, it's very true. Y/N recently beat the champion, Leon, in Galar. Even bested my own grandson.”
“I'm pretty decent when it comes to battles,” Y/N said, as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck at Professor Turo’s stare and Professor Oak’s praise.
Professor Turo smiled. “Well, I’d like to take you on in a battle if I may?”
“What? Really?”
“Of course, you may even use one of the starter Pokémon I brought.”
Y/N looked from the hunky Professor to the three new Pokémon. A really big decision to make. He examined each Pokémon carefully and took into consideration all the information Professor Turo told them. The logical choice would be to choose Quaxly. It was a disciplined Pokémon. And then there was Sprigatito, who was so adorable, but Y/N already knew which Pokémon he wanted.
“I choose, Fuecoco,” Y/N said.
“Excellent choice. Should we head outside for the battle?”
“Sure.” Y/N turned to his first Pokémon. “What do you say, Pikachu? A new friend.”
“Pika–Pikachu.”
“Alright, then. Follow me.” Professor Oak advised as he took them towards the door to the ranch. Just as Y/N was about to follow, Professor Turo stopped him, there was a certain way that he was looking at Y/N that made him blush. “Something wrong, Turo?”
“No, everything is fine, but I was just wondering if you’d like to make this battle more… Interesting.”
“How so?”
“Well, I was thinking whoever wins this battle gets to decide what the loser does for the winner,” Professor Turo smiled.
Y/N blushed hard. Was this insanely attractive man flirting with him? “W–What do you mean by that?” He knew exactly what he meant; he just wanted to hear him say it out loud.
“When I win, I want to take you out on a date and maybe… More.”
“Wait, how do you know that you're going to win?” Y/N frowned.
“Because you think I'm hot and that's going to cloud your judgment.”
“Well, we'll just see about that, Turo,” Y/N said. I'm the one who's going to win.”
“Then let's find out, shall we?” They both exited the laboratory.
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My Troubled Horsie
(A fic based on this Au)
Warning: This story contains silly self-indulgent fun that's NOT meant to be taken seriously AT ALL.
Philip's face was filled with interest as he sat alone on the couch, watching the TV attentively.
A show about animated horses going on adventures called 'My Troubled Horsie' was currently playing.
While in search for the history channel, he stumbled upon the series by accident and instantly became hooked after the first episode.
It had everything - angst, drama, and, most importantly, a good story as well as good morals.
He couldn't get enough of the show.
He was addicted.
At the moment, he was watching the season 1 finale where Penelope Pony had to inform Steve The Stallion of some bad news.
As Philip continues to watch, Caleb enters the living room.
A smile spread across his face at the sight of his baby brother.
It was evident that the brunette was captivated by the content on the screen.
"I see someone's grown fond of the TV," Caleb lightly teases, only for Philip to deliver a sharp shush, not giving him a single glance.
Taking a seat beside his brother, Caleb whispers, "What are you watching?" as he turns his head toward the TV.
In the show, two horses were having a face-to-face conversation in a meadow.
The mare had a pale violet coat, pale blue eyes, and a ruffled balloon-shaped mane along with a tidy tail. On her head, she wore a pink bow.
Her expression was dull as she looked at the mustached stallion wearing a black top hat in front of her with half-lidded eyes.
"Oh, Steve," Penelope began, her voice flat and monotonous. "I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it to your party."
"Why not?" Steve wondered, worried.
Penelope sighed before revealing the reason to her friend. "Today, they're sending me to the glue factory."
That line broke Philip's heart. How could they do that to Penelope? She should have been spared. The mare was not deserving of such injustice. Meanwhile, Caleb was confused by the cartoon. He had no idea what a glue factory even was.
In the next scene, a yellow stallion with an orange mane and tail, blue eyes, and an eyepatch was clinging to a helicopter, having just caught Penelope from falling into an active volcano.
Both petrified ponies hung for dear life.
"Hold on, Marco Polo Pony!" Penelope cried out to the stallion.
"I can't!" Marco Polo Pony would confess as he continued to cling to the landing skid.
"I don't have any--"
Penelope's hoof suddenly slips out of his.
The stallion's eyes widen with shock as he watches the love of his life plummet to her death.
"HANDS!" He shouts, reaching a hoof out, but it was too late.
"AAAAAA!!!" Penelope screamed, flailing her limbs around.
This was it.
The end.
She soon shuts her eyes, accepting her fate.
Just as the purple pony was about to hit the lava, the screen cuts to black.
The show's end credits then play, accompanied by happy music and lyrics about love and friendship.
'That was... certainly something...' Caleb thought to himself, still confused about what he had just watched.
Suddenly, he feels something hit his shoulder.
Looking to his left, he sees Philip resting his head on his shoulder, exaggerated tears welling in his eyes.
He starts to sniffle like a wet cat.
The blonde proceeds to awkwardly pat his head.
"Uh, there, there, Philip. I'm sure she'll be... fine..."
Truthfully, Caleb had no clue of the pony's fate, but his baby brother was clearly saddened by that scene, so, being the older one, he tried to comfort him the best he could.
"Maybe they'll make a season 2."
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