#i'd kill a man to be wearing a cloud suit at this very moment

[comradelup]

clouds and operas

Kravitz is waiting for him when he gets there. He smiles at Taako as he approaches and looks his outfit up and down.

“You certainly know how to dress up,” he says, then meets Taako’s face again. “I feel underdressed.”

“Because you wear suits all the time. You gotta learn to dress down.”

ao3

An opera. What a nerd. Who knew the grim reaper was such a nerd? Well, Taako knows now. And now he’s on a date with him. His second, to be specific.

After he heard that conductor comment he demanded to know more about it, since it was surprising to hear Mr. Work Accent was apparently so classy. Kravitz told Taako to dress formally for it, so he did.

His suit has a tailcoat jacket and it matches his pants. Powder blue and patterned with little white clouds. To drive it home, he’s wearing a yellow bow tie to represent the sun. It would make that shitty train wizard so jealous and is fancy as all hell. His hair… he doesn’t really know what to do with it. He cut it after, y’know, Glamour Springs, so it’s shorter now. It’s had time to grow back, no doubt, but it still isn’t at Taako Brand Length™. He pulls it into a low but tight ponytail at the base of his skull. The tail end of it barely reaches the bottom of his neck, but it’s the most “formal” hairstyle he knows. Plus it’s not like he can’t pull it off.

Kravitz is waiting for him when he gets there. He’s dressed in a fancy black suit like he always is, but it’s appropriate for this setting. He smiles at Taako as he approaches and looks his outfit up and down.

“You certainly know how to dress up,” he says, then meets Taako’s face again. “I feel underdressed.”

“Because you wear suits all the time. You gotta learn to dress down,” Taako says, using his umbrella as a cane as he starts up the stairs with Kravitz at his side. (Apparently the skeleton he lifted it off of had taste, because the umbrella’s fabric changes at the user’s will. Tonight it’s the same blue shade as his suit.) They join a steady flow of others into the building which is good, they aren’t late.

Kravitz has the tickets and hands them to the attendant, who gives Taako’s suit an impressed look. Taako doesn’t notice though, because—

“Why are you wearing gloves?” he asks Kravitz as they walk into the building. It’s fancy and has crystal chandeliers, but he’s giving Kravitz his attention.

“Oh!” Kravitz says as if just noticing them. It’s fair, Taako randomly brought it up. “I thought it’d be a little fancier? And uh,” He looks nervous as he says, “last time you said my hands were cold.”

Taako laughs and Kravitz looks more nervous. “That’s fair! That’s fair, I’ll give you that, Bones.”

Now Kravitz chuckles. “Bones?”

“Yeah, you’re a skelling-ton. You’re all bones under there.” Taako gestures to Kravitz with his free hand.

“So are you,” Kravitz says.

“Yeah but I’m not the grim reaper,” Taako says. They reach a grand staircase and start ascending.

“Fair enough.”

On their way up Taako gets a good look at the building. Dark green carpets and walls with gold accents, and hanging golden chandeliers that twinkle. It’s beautiful.

Kravitz says, “I’ve always loved this hall. It’s gorgeous.”

“Always?”

“Oh I’ve been around way longer than this place,” Kravitz says.

“Right, you’re immortal, aren’t you?”

“Kind of. After I died The Raven Queen let my soul live on as a bounty hunter under her rule.”

“So… immortal?” Taako asks, earning a small laugh from Kravitz.

“Guess so.”

They get into the actual concert hall and get to their seats. The seats are comfortable and pretty close to the stage, which is nice. Taako has no idea what operas are like though, so he doesn’t know what to expect.

Something must have shown on his face, because Kravitz asks, “Have you ever been to an opera before?”

“Nope,” Taako admits, trying to sound nonchalant. Part of him worries that he’ll look like an idiot here.

Instead of a joke or a look, Kravitz says, “Oh, then you’re in for a treat, this show is amazing.” He’s smiling like he’s excited. Huh.

“I’ll be the judge of that, Bones,” Taako says.

“…Alright.” Kravitz leans back into his seat, giving Taako a look. A daring and playful look. A look that says, go ahead and judge.

Taako feels his face darken, just a bit, and tries to match it with a look of his own. He says, “Alright.”

The show starts and Kravitz is right: it’s amazing. He’s not surprised, a place this pretty can’t pump out bad performance. Although Taako can barely make out what’s being said. Halfway through the show, he feels a hand grab his own and looks down to see Kravitz’s gloved hand holding his. The fabric is black, and it dampens the coolness of his skin. Not completely, Taako can still feel a lack of warmth, but it’s nice. He finds himself smiling at brown skin against black velvet before looking back up to the stage.

If he thought he couldn’t keep up before, Kravtiz laying his head on Taako’s shoulder made his brain blue-screen. Almost immediately he leans his head on Kravitz’s in return, and the show suddenly becomes even more enjoyable. As the big finale approaches, he can feel Kravitz squeezing his hand in anticipation and Taako squeezes back. They have death grips on each other’s hands until the show ends and they’re on their feet applauding with the rest of the audience.

Kravitz is practically floating with giddiness after they leave. They haven’t let go of each other’s hands, which Taako likes most of all. They’re walking… somewhere, Taako isn’t sure. He just wants to stretch his legs after sitting still for so long. Getting to listen to Kravitz talk about the show is a bonus.

“I know you said this is your first one so I don’t know what your expectations were, but that was phenomenal, even by my opera standards. And I’m not saying that to brag— I’ve been around long enough to see months worth of shows.” Kravitz sighs, shaking his head a little. “It really is a shame that that was your first show. Any other show you see will completely pale in comparison.”

“Well you better pick a good show next time then, Bones,” Taako says, and wow he didn’t mean for his voice to come out that soft. When he sees Kravitz’s slightly flustered expression, he ends up not regretting it.

“Next time?” Kravitz asks.

“Hell yeah next time,” Taako says. Duh, obviously. “That was fucking cool, I gotta see more.”

Kravitz just lights up. Who knew Death could look so lively? “Yeah, yeah I agree.” He brushes a dreadlock behind his ear. “I’ll look out for a show to top this one. Although I doubt there is one.”

“I trust you can surprise me,” Taako says, bumping his shoulder against Kravitz’s.

“I could say the same to you.” Kravitz bumps back. Then he stops and he turns to face Taako.

“What’s up?” he asks. Kravitz is looking away from him, at the ground or their intertwined hands.

“I just,” Kravitz looks up, into Taako’s eyes. “I’ve had a great time tonight. Thank you for joining me.”

Taako chuckles. “Course. I had fun too. Although,” he says, dragging out the word. For added dramatic effect, he taps a finger against his chin as he says, “this date could be even better if you ask me.”

Kravitz quirks an eyebrow, clear confusion written all over his face. “What do you mean?”

“This,” Taako says, then he closes the distance between them to kiss Kravitz. The hand not holding Kravitz’s goes to hold his shoulder. Kravitz instantly kisses back, his own free hand moving to Taako’s waist. It doesn’t last long though because Taako is soon breaking it, laughing a little as he moves away just slightly.

“What?” Kravitz asks.

“I… I forgot you were cold,” Taako admits. Instantly Kravitz looks super embarrassed and it makes Taako laugh.

Kravitz starts to stutter out an apology and Taako waves him off. He’s laughing with Kravitz, not at him, though he’s not sure if Kravitz can tell the difference.

“Wait, let me just…” Kravitz moves his hands off Taako to bring them to his face. Taako laughs again as Kravitz starts blowing into his hands to warm up his face. Kravitz starts laughing too, though it’s muffled by the hands over his mouth.

When they collect themselves Taako gently moves his hands away from his face. Holding both hands in both of his own, he says, “Let’s try this again,” and they do.

It’s much nicer. Taako could get used to this.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.

"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.

"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.

The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.

"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."

"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.

Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.

"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.

"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.

I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.

The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.

Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.

I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.

My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.

NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.

I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"

"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.

"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.

Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."

Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.

The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.

As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.

"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.

The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."

"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."

Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.

I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.

I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"

His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.

Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.

Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."

That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.

"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.

"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.

The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.

"Earth is a sentient organism?"

The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.

He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.

I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.

"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.

"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.

"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.

"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."

"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.

"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.

"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.

Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.

The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.

Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.

A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.

The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.

"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.

I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.

Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.

Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.

My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.

I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.

My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[moonvalecrossing]

Now here's something I haven't asked you in a long time: a "Fav and Least Fav" ask related to Pokémon. Favorite and least favorite Gym Leaders of each type they specialize in? Kahunas and Trial Captains will count, but if one ends up as your fav/least fav, I'd suggest separating them and the actual Gym Leader that's your fav/least fav of their type. Also, Bede and Marnie's statuses as Gym Leaders will count too, mostly just so Piers can have some competition with his sis. :P

Alrighty. Time to sit down and tackle this!

Normal Type- Least Favorite: Whitney. WHITNEY. That damn Milktank. I’m sure she’s killed many a Nuzlocke team. And yet still has the gall to cry like a baby when she loses. She also comes across as one of those vapid dumb and pretty trend girls. “Everyone was into pokemon so I got into it too!” I really think skill is the only thing they care about when they hand out the title of Gym Leader sometime because this chick really doesn’t seem to be the type who’d normally get this type of authority.

Normal Type- Most Favorite: Cheren. He is adorable baby husband. Though mostly it’s really cool to see another rival become a gym leader like Green did. I just wish they’d kept his glasses instead of for some reason swapping them to Bianca for some reason.

Fighting Type- Least Favorite: Korrina. Her character art bugs me. Is she seriously supposed to be wearing skates and also doing fighting moves? I can’t even stand on four wheel skates without nearly breaking every bone below my waist. And you’re telling me this girl runs around doing axe kicks on roller blades??? No thank you. Also she hoists a Lucario onto you. I like raising my pokemon from their earliest point and you go and make me have to take one because I’d feel bad if I didn’t since it wants to come with me now.

Fighting Type- Most Favorite: Brawly. Mostly because he’s hot. Slightly because his gym is actually a gym with workout equipment in the remake and I find that amazing and hilarious.

Flying Type- Least Favorite: Skyla. Partially because of her anime counterpart. Mostly because I hate her design. Why are her wrists so thick on those gloves? Why is she wearing boots, a cropped jacket, those weird gloves, and what look closer to boxer style panties than shorts underneath a bunch of bondage-y belts? She looks like a generic anime waifu more than a pokemon character. Like a Mega Man OC. Of one of those weird dating games where the women are just objects in female coded human form Skyla’s a humanized seatbelt.

Flying Type- Most Favorite: Falkner. Because Kahili isn’t a gym leader. Congrats, Falkner. You cute little bugger. Also he’s the only notable male flying type trainer.

Poison Type- Least Favorite: Prepare the flame shields. I don’t like Roxie. Small children as Gym Leaders bug the hell out of me. I see Gym Leaders as characters with high authority in the pokemon world. I hate the idea of kids who look like they’re only a few years out from learning the alphabet and basic mathematics having any kind of power in a region. The only exception I have is Galar because the gym leaders feel less important since they’re merely sports celebrities. ...Also I hate Roxie’s Pebbles Flintstone hair. It makes her look even more like a baby to me.

Poison Type- Most Favorite: Koga. Despite the fact I still think that he and Sabrina had their gyms switched, he’s still my favorite. He even became a member of the Elite 4 and left the gym to his daughter. I find that sweet.

Ground Type- Least Favorite: (Actually Hapu, because of reasons stated above for Roxie, except even more because this kid is a freaking KAHUNA. Why is this little mud farm girl chosen to be the KAHUNA of a whole dang island and one of the most important people in Alola? Surely the Tapus could find someone better, but then again the gods must be crazy.) Clay. Because he looks like a Texan Business Tycoon. And I’m a left-leaning American. That should probably explain things well enough. Because boy howdy do I not wanna open that can of worms. Maybe if I ever get to the point of fighting him in Black Version my opinion will change. But like I said. My real answer is Hapu. Clay just has the misfortune of being next at the bottom of the line.

Ground Type- Most Favorite: Giovanni. Because he is my mafia husbando and I am a garbage human. Have you seen a picture of the man in the “How I became a Pokemon Card” manga? Hot damn. And his newer pokemon cards? HOT DAMN.

Rock Type- Least Favorite: Gordie. This Ronaldo Fryman looking fucknugget with accessory tips from Bling Bling Boy on Johnny Test. He looks like one of those smug basement dweller types who’d call me a FEEEEEMALE if I turned him down for a date. Also his official art does the same thing I hate about Diantha’s. His knee faces more inner-forward but his foot’s pointing outward. Unless that picture’s drawn with him in mid dance spin, dude’s ankle is broken. At least he looks kind of cute when he doesn’t have his hair styled back in that douchey style. I feel like he’d yell about feemales again if I told him I thought his mom was hot. Also he’s not wearing socks with dress shoes and that should be a criminal offense.

Rock Type- Most Favorite: Roxanne is super cute. Even if she’s skirting the line of young people in positions of power she actually looks like a mature person who was ahead of her age level in school. However I will object to the idea of her being a teacher in any shape or form like in the anime. This person hasn’t even struggled through the mental ravages of puberty aint no way she should be allowed to be a teacher.

Bug Type- Least Favorite: Burgh, if only because people use him as a stereotype a lot and I hate that. Toxic masculinity is bs. MEN CAN BE FABULOUS WITHOUT BEING GAY. That said, his pants and shoes are a color crime.

Bug Type- Most Favorite: Guzma is the equivalent of a Bug Type trial captain and you will never convince me otherwise. I- what- you’re really gonna fight me on this? Fine. Bugsy. Bugsy is my precious bug-catching child. Precious baby.

Ghost Type- Least Favorite: Acerola. I’ve already stated why I hate kids in power like this. Plus I just. do not like. characters with the bubbly personality and the cat mouth. I instantly know I’m going to dislike a character the moment I see that damn catmouth. I’m not coming up with a non-trial alternative for this one. I am either neutral to or love the other ghost trainers.

Ghost Type- Most Favorite: Morty. Because 1. He’s hot. 2. He’s got a sweet scarf. 3. Agatha’s not a gym leader. :P Morty has a very nice design. After the remakes came out anyways.

Steel Type- Least Favorite: There’s only like two of these. I don’t hate Jasmine at all but she’s the only other actual gym leader of the Steel Type. So we’re gonna use Molayne anyways. Mostly because his stick-ass gangly legs give me the creeps.

Steel Type- Most Favorite: I’ve never met him but Byron looks like a miner hobo and I dig that. Plus he made Roark and Roark’s hot. (Then why isn’t Roark my favorite rock gym leader? Because not all my favorites can be because of my asexual thirst.)

Fire Type- Least Favorite: Blaine always makes me think of my grandfather and I am not that fond of my grandfather. Even though Blaine seems much much nicer and friendlier a grandpa than my actual grandfather.

Fire Type- Most Favorite: Flannery’s design is adorable and I love it. Doesn’t hurt that it’s also the kind of outfit my more pro-fire trainer would wear.

Water Type- Least Favorite: Marlon. Don’t get me wrong. Marlon’s hot. But he gets to be least favorite for lying about being a tan boy. Seriously look at that tan line around his swim suit that pastey white skin does not do his design favors.

Water Type- Most Favorite: Wallace. This one is pure thirst. Pure. Thirst. Wallace is a babe. I love everything about this fabulous bastard. Especially his hat and scarf in the remake. Especially the remake. Babe.

Grass Type- Least Favorite: Milo. I’m starting to feel like the people who design and did the art for some of these newer characters don’t know how bulkier people’s legs work. Because Milo and Gordie’s legs just look really, really wrong. These characters do not have ankles their calves just end at flat feet. Also milo’s leg is doin that broken ankle thing too. Other images don’t make them look as bad, though. Other than that I hate characters who have no whites to their eyes. It’s freaking creepy and Milo’s baby face doesn’t help. And I can not figure out the design of this guy’s eyebrows either. I know he has them but they don’t look like the anything but exist to blend with his bangs.

Grass Type- Most Favorite: Erika. I like her design a lot. I guess some of the weeb in me still exists deep in there.

Electric Type- Least Favorite: Sophocles. I just don’t like his design. At all. Only other arguments I could give are the kid with with Clemont again. That and his jumpsuit.

Electric Type- Most Favorite: Lt. Surge, Volkner, and Elesa are are great. But Elesa wins because Lt. Surge is a paranoid soldier who makes getting to him a chore and Volkner looks like he takes the same brooding pills they fed to Cloud after Final Fantasy Advent Children turned into into the broodlord. Also ‘urgh need actually challenging opponents’ characters bug me, regardless of how attractive they are.

Psychic Type- Least Favorite: Tate and Liza. But this time the main reason ISN’T because they’re babies. No, no. That’s a big reason, but even being psychics can’t save them. They have a BIG problem. The main reason for these two is that their gym team is garbage. Emerald and Black2/White2 not counting in this because of the remake being their current gym team in my eyes its just a damn solrock and lunatone! I love me Lunatone, don’t get me wrong. But damn, kids. How are you actually gym leaders with a team of pokemon that is barely suitable for the gym trainer in the first gym of the region? The only starter that can’t hit you with a super effective move is the fire starter. Being a double battle only means that I can get rid of your pokemon faster because I get to use TWO pokemon moves on my turn.

Psychic Type- Most Favorite: Olympia. Her design is absolutely beautiful. I want her dress. I want her cape. She is the black and silver space queen and she WILL BE RESPECTED IN THIS HOUSE. Even if whoever did her art doesn’t seem to realize dresses don’t slip into the navel or hug into the crotch hole. Surprised whoever drew it didn’t also add the camel-toe since they think fabric works that way. If I were her I’d strangle someone with one of those magical floaty ring bracelets. Space mom aint having non of your objectification shit.

Ice Type- Least Favorite: Candice. You live in a winter town. Your gym is an ice slide hell. Put on some goddamn pants and a coat. I’m not gonna give you any sympathy when you end up with the worst cold ever.

Ice Type- Most Favorite: Melony. She is adorable and has actual weight to her. And she loves her kids. And holy shit look at her she’s actually dressed for cold weather and ice unlike nearly every other goddamn Ice Gym Leader besides Pryce.

Dragon Type- Least Favorite: Claire is an arrogant b-witch who cant accept defeat and is worst that whitney because at least Whitney gave you your earned badge when she stopped crying like a baby. Claire refused until you did some ‘trial’ and still didn’t think she’d have to give you the badge until granddad dragon master told her to stop being a child. Also she gets more least favorite points because she’s what has prevented me from talking about how much I hate Iris here. That’s right, Claire. I dislike you so much you get MORE hate points because you prevent me from hating another character more than you.

Dragon Type- Most Favorite: Raihan is a babe and the most challenging Gym Leader I’ve ever faced. Bonus points because technically I wouldn’t call him a type-based gym leader but a strategy based leader because he focuses on weather more than dragons. Plus his “Leader Challenges You!” post makes him look a little wild.

Dark Type- Least Favorite: Marnie. Because I wanted to see her brother again so I invited him to the Championship thing and Marnie freaking cockblocked me by beating her brother in the first round. LET ME SEE YOUR BROTHER, MARNIE.

Dark Type- Most Favorite: Piers is my husband and Marnie’s just gonna have to deal with it. :P He’s super cute and his worrying over Marnie in the post game was the cutest damn thing. Plus young Piers in his rare league card is so precious and gives me life. It’s gonna take a lot of work for any other dark type trainer to top Piers.

Fairy Type- Least Favorite: Mina. I hate Mina. Lazy/Unfocused/High artist characters piss me off. Alo Mina should have been a normal type trial captain because of smeargle and the fact that Ilima has pink hair and the same huge buggy-like water eyes Valerie has. Mina even dips her damn hair in paint like Smeargle does with its tail. Mina couldn’t be assed to have an actual trial the first time around. Second time around she just made you go collect something from people you already beat.

Fairy Type- Most Favorite: Bede. If you can’t look this beautiful sparkly eye angel of a child in the eyes and find him amazing once he becomes Opal’s apprentice, you have no soul and should probably get that looked at.

[script-a-world]

Hi! I've been debating writing a story set in a snowy realm, but there's a bit if a problem: I've never actually seen snow in person. Does it crunch or slush when you step in it? Does it smell? Does it accumulate quickly or slowly, or does that depend on the intensity of the storm? If anyone could answer these and maybe add bits of their own experience with snow, I'd really appreciate it!

Saphira: ASMR for snow can help with that! But as someone who grew up on a wet little loin-cloth of NY, let me tell you about my experience with snow.

There are two main types of snow when it falls. There is the damp, heavy snow, and there is light powdery snow. The damp and heavy comes down harsher (think blizzards and hefty fall) but they are better for building. Snowmen and igloos in the yard, crisp angels... Perfect snowballs. Round and firm and smooth. The light and powdery snow usually comes down in flurries first, and when it comes down hard, it looks like rain in slow motion.  Powered snow is more Hollywood snow- looks lovely but can't be used for much else.

Now snow does more to the ground than cover it. Unless you had a particularly heavy snow, you're not really going to get the "oh wow a foot of snow in every direction!" For about every inch of rain, you get what, a quarter inch of snow? Less than that? Normally what we would get is barely more than a 'dusting', what we called up to an inch for a standard snow. (This varies dramatically for different environments. I would research areas like the New England Area or Northern Canada for different experiences.) With a dusting you could really see how the rest of the ground reacts to the cold temperatures.

Feral: A lot of people, though not all, can "smell snow" before it falls.  To me it's crisp, a little bit ozone-y. Mental Floss has an article about the actual science behind it. 

How fast snow accumulates is going to depend on the type (heavy snowflakes versus the powdery stuff versus what I usually get which is essentially raining not-quite-hail ice crystals) and the amount of fall as well as how cold it's been. If it hasn't been consistently below freezing, the ground might be too warm at first for the snow to begin piling up immediately.

Saphira: Yes, a lake might freeze over, but it's usually just at the edges. Puddles and little bits of standing water are what really freeze. You know the bits of water that gather at a curb? All thin ice, often "black ice" that is hard to see. Everyone from ages 3-70 steps on them to make them crack. I dunno. We just do. Icicles? Everywhere. Anywhere water could run off of (a roof, the bumper of a car, parts of a fence) they hang like tassels. In heavier snows they are thick and bold, or if it was a steep surface. They are longer before they are thicker. Anyone from 3-70 breaks them off. They're just so break-off-able. Sometimes they're just the right size for a pretend cigar. If you find a BIG one, you will challenge your friends to a dual. Unspoken rules. Also the grass freezes over. Any grass that is exposed will get dew like normal, that freezes almost immediately. Grass is crunchy.

After the plows have been through, all the snow that was on the street will be piled up on the sidewalk or next to it. There will be fewer places to park. They will be these giant banks of ashen snow. They're tall and gross. There will be smaller ones on corners, especially at street lights. People will trample small, narrow paths over the banks to allow people to get over them easier. These also happen at bus stops, or anywhere that people jaywalk often.Then the slush comes. Slush is the aftermath. Slush is the melt, and the dirt, and the decay of snow. It gets in your boots and splashes like rain water and spite. I hate slush. It's gross, it's ugly, and it seeps out of piles of Plow-snow. In a place with a lot of soil, the slush gets soaked up by the soil. The places where it's all pavement and drains? Slush is snow-swamp. Slush is everything we hate about the Everglades, but cold.

Finding the right scent for snow is hard, but it's very similar to rain. It's as if the rain-scent had a cleansed ghost. I only smell it before the snow, because after that the dust of the street-plows kinda kills the serenity of it. As far as sound, only the top of the snow crunches. It happens when some of the snow freezes after being on the ground. Anything beneath that (if you have heavy snow) is a fwhoop. That is the sound of your boot sinking into the abyss. Now you're standing knee-high in snow, with your pants soaking up the water that melts from your body heat. This is why snow-suits were invented. You look derpy but you are invincible to snow's evils. 

I don't like snow. It's cold and now matter how much comes down, I still have to go to work. 

Constablewrites: It doesn't necessarily have to be that cold when it's snowing. It's the wind, man. It cuts right through all your warm layers and makes your face hurt. I'll regularly look at the forecast and say, "Oh it's 40F it's not that's cold" and then I'll step outside and the wind hits me and oh god why. Insulating layers under your clothes are the key, but then you can get uncomfortable warm inside, especially when you're somewhere with a lot of people. Winter sweatiness is the worst.

You know intellectually that ice is slippery, but the first time you actually slip there's that moment of primal terror as you really understand what it's like. Walking on ice must be done very carefully. Penguins have the right idea: put all your weight straight down. There's an art to waddling.

Snow is like a houseguest. For the first few days it's quite pleasant, but once you're on the second month or so you start hating everything and everyone. But that might just be me.  

Tex: Crunching and slushing depend on the type of snow, as well as things like the time of day, how long since last snowfall, and your location (Arctic Circle - snow on top of perpetual snow, Midwest US or Central Europe - snow can melt and then fall some more). It accumulates quickly in winter storms, and slowly during snow flurries  and other instances of calm to no winds.

The wikis for snow and classifications of snow are a good primer on the topic. Liftopia and Thought.Co  each have their own basic guides on different types of snow, though this is mostly from the perspective of snow sports such as skiing and snowboarding.

Some places are uniquely suited to lots of snow (ScienceDaily), while others are not - snow is as much a product of geological formations and as it is latitude. Snow melting and then refreezing is what gives it that "crunch" when you break through the top layer, and is usually caused by exposure to sunlight + refreezing (from nighttime temperature drops, wind, more snow, etc).

The wind and cold will absolutely do damage to your face if you leave it unprotected - you can get ice burns and windburns, if not outright frostbite. Usually slathering on some thick cream on your face will help, since the moisture will keep your skin hydrated, which reduces the chance that high winds + snow will shred your face. I've gotten both ice burn and windburn, and the feeling of your face heating back up once you're inside can be incredibly painful. (Does that stop me from going outside without a hat? Usually not.)

The walking thing. It, ah- you don't actually have to waddle and hunch yourself over. I'm still not quite sure how that idea became popular - the reason why a lot of people fall over is from a combination of things: putting weight on your heels when walking, wearing the wrong shoes, having the wrong posture (that hunching over thing, conversely also leaning back too far such as puffing your chest out and throwing your shoulders back), and going too fast. I walk straight up - even with a backpack that's often heavier than a small child - and the only times I've ever fallen over are when I've misjudged how icy the ground is, or the evenness of the ground under the snow. The trick is mostly your foot movements; don't roll your feet, try to keep the weight evenly distributed in your feet, and if necessary balance a little bit on the balls of your feet in the cases of uneven terrain so you don't immediately fall flat on your face. If it's windy, tug your hat/hood over your face more (or hold it close to your face, I've done that a lot), curve your shoulders a little bit inward, and duck your head so you can see where your feet are.

There's a genuinely wide variety of snow weather, and I've experienced most types - from the nor'easter of 2003 (1  2 ; my family had to climb through the window to dig out the front door, and had gusts of -60F/-51C - still went to school with only a small delay for the snowplows to clear the roads), to barely Cold TM but lots of freezing rain and black ice, and to slush that sometimes freezes in patches and sometimes doesn't do anything but sit there and make you miserable with its existence.

Depending on where it snows, though, there are... different reactions, and it's not always because of how used to it a region is - I've personally seen panic everywhere from places that regularly get a meter of snow every winter (from locals that are several generations into living there) to places where clouds are rare, much less precipitation of any kind, so infrastructure capabilities don't always have much to do with it with people's ability to cope with weather. Places that regularly get snow just... kind of force you to adjust or convince you to move to climates with gentler winters. People that are used to it and don't panic tend to keep themselves stocked with necessities - rolling blackouts are frequently a thing, as are breaking waterlines from neighbors that neglect to set their faucets on drip despite often getting notices from the city before inclement weather.

I've compiled a mountain of links (in a google doc) from both imgur and YouTube for you to sift through, with the pertinent ones marked with a star.

Lurelay: Snow can be incredibly heavy too, even the light and powdery kind. I have seen whole buildings collapse under the weight of it and sometimes it can grow meters tall on the roof. If the weather gets warmer you will see tiny streams of molten snow drip down the edges of the roof but the snow on top seems to still be intact. Fire- and policemen frequently have to step in and help to push down the snow. Sometimes our rivers freeze, although it has to be extremely cold for that to happen (around -10 to -15 degrees Celsius). The river will still flow underneath and fish can survive in the depths, but the top will either be completely frozen or broken in huge ice floes that float down with it. Lakes and other still waters usually freeze more quickly.

Snow will make seeing at night easier because it reflects light. There's also an element of quietness that comes with it, because snow absorbs a lot of sound.

Miri: Snow’s reflective quality is the part that causes me the most trouble. Part of my walk to work goes through a field area that can be a flat area of undisturbed snow at times, which means it’s just white everywhere. Snow blindness is a thing. I’ve had panic attacks in the middle of it looking around because it suddenly feels endless because your vision is just swimming with reflected light and everything in every direction is just white. Plus, you have no way of knowing if it’s snow all the way down, or if the bottom layer is ice and you’re going to lose your footing. It also makes it really important to have good curtains because it can make it feel bright as day in the middle of the night with all the light coming in the windows at night. Sometimes that’s how we notice it’s been snowing.