#oh yeah and thinking about putting a ``tail`` on her skirt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojigasm · 2 years ago

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What about like Step!dad Jake w oblivious reader. So like she doesn’t realize that Jake is flirting w her until she hears him jerking off while calling her name (she thinks he’s hurt or something cause she’s innocent but walks in to see his hands wrapped around his cock)

IM DROOLING OVER THIS (I LIVE FOR UR WRITING)

I blame my mutuals for getting me into this... more specifically Kells and Eden because now I'm suffering from stepdad Jake brainrot

Tw: stepcest, daddy kink, pet names, teasing

God he's sick on you. Obsessed with the way you're so painfully naive to his casual flirting and the way you walk around in your tiny little outfits around him; skirts that end just below the cusp of your ass and pretty pink crop tops that your perky nipples poke through. And jesus, he swears he's losing his mind.

Sometimes he thinks you're doing it on purpose, making your way down the stairs in a baby pink mini skirt and top, bows clipped into the thick of your hair. And Jake's immedielty calling you over from the kitchen, asking where you're headed so dressed up; and it's the way your eyes get all big and round, so blissfully unaware of the blood rushing to his cock, pressing a tent into the fabric of his pants.

Its when you saunter throughout the den, necklaces adorning the pretty blue of your soft skin, that he hisses a "fuck" under his breath.

He watches you bend over to pack your purse, palming the swell of his cock as your skirt rides over the plush of your ass, pretty pink panties on full display as your tail swishes back and forth, gently grazing the backs of your thighs.

With a groan, Jake makes his way over to you, pulling the tip of your skirt down, "Change your clothes," he scolds through clenched teeth.

immediately your cheeks flush with heat, "Oh, I-" you're too embarassed to speak, tripping over your words under his sharp gaze. "M'sorry, I-I didn't realize-"

"Walkin' around these tiny little skirts n'thongs," his voice is deep with strain, "Fuckin' ridicoulous." Shaking his head, he pulls you up by your braid to push you onto the couch.

you're jolted by the rush of it, blood rushes to your head as he pins you to the couch, scrambling over your words, "I don't-"

you're cut off by a large hand grabbing at your jaw, squeezing the plush of your cheeks. "Shut your fucking mouth, young lady," Jake seethes, pressing his free hand into the soft of your thigh, massaging the plush of it, pushing your legs open. "Don't act dumb, kid," he moves to cup your heat, palm slick against the soaked fabric of your thong.

immediately you grasp a hand around his wrist at your jaw, other around his forearm before he's scolding you, "Put your hands down."

retracting, you dig your hands into the cushions beneath you with a shaky whine. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes drift to the door, suddenly aware of just how open you are - legs spread in the middle of the den where your mother could come back from her outing at any minute. Jake doesn't miss the way you unknowingly clench your thighs around the thick of his hand between your legs, fabric of your thong wet against his fingers.

"What, y'worried someone's gonna walk in?" he teases, slipping his fingers under your dainty thong to sink into your soaked pussy. He smirks against the puffy lips of your cunt, moving to bite the inside of your thigh with his canine, "scared your mom's gonna see you gettin' your tiny little pussy fucked by your stepdad?" his finger curls along your gummy walls, petting at the spongey patch in you with strokes that send shivers down your thighs.

you nod, whimpering in his hold, drool spilling over your swollen lips, lifting your legs some to press your heels into the couch, "Daddy, please-!" you're choking on sobs, tears spilling over your cheeks as he scissors your cunny.

"Yeah, I know." you can hear the eyeroll in his voice, "Stop fuckin' whining. I'll give you what you want."

Jake kicks your feet apart enough to kneel between your thighs, hand dropping from your jaw to slip your legs over his shoulders. You go to grab at him, but he catches your wrists in one hand, pulling your arms to the side, "keep your hands to yourself." the warning in his voice is enough not to test his patience.

He watches you for a moment, gaging your reaction before he drops your wrists to the side, pushing you to lie back against the couch with his hand, "Let daddy take care of you."

Keeping a blue hand at your chest, massaging your breasts through the fabric of your top, he presses his mouth to the soaked lips of your cunt, inhaling the scent of you with a hiss.

"Hnghh," your breath hitches when the rough of his nose nudges the button of your clit, digging your hands into the cushion beneath you with a moan.

Clicking his tongue when your cunt pulses around his digit, Jake groans, "You're such a good girl." he kisses your clit, eyes jumping to the door teasingly before he's pulling back with a smirk.

"M'gonna tear you apart." meeting your eyes, he places your feet to the ground again, moving to sit one knee on the couch beside you, pulling your skirt up over your hips to expose your cunt. Sliding his hand between your thighs again, scissoring you open.

"Look at that," he hums, "Gonna let me in there, sweetheart?" his free hand still massaging into the fat of your breast, "Gonna let your stepdaddy fuck your little pussy?"

you can't help the way you moan at the vulgarity. head falling back to rest on the top of the couch, grabbing at the wrist of his hand at your chest when you cum, jaw dropping in a silent moan.

He laughs, watching your thighs shake under his hold, "Good girl," Jake leans down to kiss you, biting at your soft skin as you dwindle from your high.

And suddenly he's standing between your shaky legs, cupping his large hands under your thighs to press your knees into your chest, forcing you to slip down the couch some.

Squatting onto the couch above you, feet on either side of the plush of your ass, he's sinks into you with a groan.

"God, you're fuckin tight," Jake's brows furrow, thrusting in and out of you gently, resting a hand on the soft of your tummy when he bottoms out.

teary-eyed, you grasp on to his striped forearm with a sob, "Hnngh, ahh,"

Jake speeds up once you've relaxed some, cupping a hand behind your head, "good girl," he kisses you softly, pressing his forehead against yours.

your voice wavers, choking on the heat of it all - and it's almost too much; the stretch of his cock against your gummy walls, his thick hair tickling the soft of your hot cheeks, his hand behind your head as well as the one that pushes into the couch beside you.

Jake pants shakily above you, hissing a groaned "fuck," when he bottoms out again, "God, you're so pretty," he presses a kiss to your forehead and you squeal, "Daddy's pretty girl, huh, sweetheart."

"So deep, so deep," you chant, swollen lips parted in a silent moan, "fuck, daddy!" you cry, digging your nails into the blue of his ankle, "Haa...haa"

Jake drops a leg to the ground, hiking your legs over his shoulder with a heavy thrust. The girth of his cock stretches your heat so deliciously that you struggle to breathe, gasping through choked sobs and broken moans.

"M'gonna cum," Jake circles your clit gently, "Gonna let your step daddy cum in you, fill ya'up?"

It's all so fucking vulgar and God he wants to eat you alive. Wants to consume you and fill you and rip you apart all at the same time.

His swollen length stretching your soft walls isn't enough. The claim he has on you serves as merely nothing in his mind when you're beneath him, thighs spread and cunt stretching around the girth of him.

The way he can fucking feel your cunt throbbing when you cum around his cock is all too much.

The heat of him spilling into you pulls a sob from your plush lips and Jake's ears fall back in a hiss, cock still thrusting into your pussy as his seed spills down the soft of your ass.

"Jesus Christ," he chuckles through a hoarse pant, thrusting his cum deeper into you. He bottoms out once more, fat balls resting against your soft folds before he pulls out to stand over you.

still shaking, you bring your fingers down to scoop the cum that's spilled out of you back into your swollen pussy with a giggle.

Jake's cock throbs at the scene, bringing a hand to your jaw, he pulls you up to rest on your knees against the cushioned couch. Kissing you, he brings a hand down to cup your cunt, teeth grazing your bottom lip, "Who's pussy is this?"

you nearly melt at the heat of his words, shifting side to side on your knees in his hold, "S'yours, daddy."

"Go upstairs and clean yourself up and maybe daddy'll fuck you again later, how's that sound, kid?"

you nod at that excitedly and Jake smiles wamrly, "Yeah, thought you'd might like that." He pinches your thigh softly before realseing your jaaw.

Moving on shaky legs, you make your way off the couch and up the stairs to your room, Jake's eyes on you from his seat at the couch.

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar #dilf jake sully #jake sully smut #stepdad! jake sully #tw stepcest

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darlingsfandom · 1 year ago

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Reader refused to sleep in her and Spencer’s apartment when he was arrested. She let their son and daughter sleep over at JJ’s house. She slept on the couch in Aaron’s office- when she slept. When they finally got him out they only made it to their SUV before they made up for lost time.

"And I thought I looked rough!" Spencer was doing his best to lighten up the mood when you picked him up. You had bags for days, your hair was pulled back with a few fly away hairs and your clothes were a bit wrinkly.

"Spencer..." You wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. You were squeezing all the oxygen out of him , but he didn't mind it all. He kissed the top of your head before you two walked to get all his belongings. Once that was settled he held your hand all the way to the SUV. He put his stuff in the trunk as you leaned against the suv.

"Baby, have you even slept?" He closed the trunk before he wrapped his arms around your waist and smoothed your hair.

"I slept on the couch in Hotchs office when I could sleep. The kids have been staying at JJs and I couldn't sleep in our bed without you. It wasn't the same. I'd turn to hold you and you weren't there.." your eyes swelled with tears before you buried your face in his chest.

"Baby, it's okay. I'm home now. You'll be able to rest again." Spencer held onto you while the two of you stood in the parking lot. He hummed softly while rubbing small circles into your back. Spencer slowly pulled away and looked down at you with love and lust. He leaned in and kissed your strawberry flavored lips. Oh how he missed your soft lips on his. His were a bit chapped compared to yours. Your fingers ran down his arms while his tongue slowly slipped into your mouth. Small whimpers escaped your throat into his when his hand gripped your ass and gave it a squeeze.

"You know JJ said she'd keep the kids a couple extra nights so we can have time to catch up... why don't we go home yeah?" Your voice was soft and silky while you played with his shirt.

"Baby... I don't think I can wait until we get home." Spencer said breathlessly as he opened the back door, bent you over the back seat, pulled down your skirt and ripped off your panties. Spencer's animalistic side was out and you knew you where in for it. He waisted no time in slipping his long fingers inside of your folds.

"Fuck baby! Missed me that much huh? I missed you so much. Thought about you, your sweet little mouth and your pretty fucking cunt!" His weight was pushed into your back as you gripped the back the seat. His fingers pumped in and out of you faster than you've ever felt. "Such a needy girl, but I don't blame you. You went this long with my cock, bet your little toys didn't fill you the way I do ! Did they sweet girl?" Spencer bit down on your ear before kissing down your neck while he pulled his fingers out. All you could hear was the fumbling of his pants dropping down before you felt the head of his cock against your slipper folds.

"Oh Spencer ! Please ! I need your fat cock! Please." You begged and he wrapped his arm around your waist as he slipped his cock inside of you. Both of let out a loud moan before he started slowly fucking into you. It was almost romantic how soft he was being when a few seconds ago he was an animal. He pressed all of his weight into you again while nibbling your ear lobe.

"I've missed you so much. In so many ways." Spencer held onto you like his life depended on it. "I've missed you too Spencer." Your voice was soft and sweet until the hormones took over in Spencer and he gave it his all. Your ears filled with the sounds of his grunts and his balls slapping against you. Your knees were shaking as Spencer gripped your pony tail and pulled your back against his chest. It didn't matter that he was fucking you in the prison parking lot , it didn't matter if anyone caught you. He missed you and you missed him. He kissed the top of your head and mumbled how much he missed you and your pussy.

"Such a good girl! Taking my cock so well. Fits so perfectly inside of you. You were made to be mine" Spencer was brusing your pussy with how hard he was fucking you. His hand roamed down your body until he reached your legs. His fingers found your clit and rubbed it fast as he fucked you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as whimpers left your lips.

"Spencer Spencer Spencer ! Fuck me yes! Fuck I'm your good girl! Shit! Oh my god don't stop baby!" You cried out as your knees were shaking while the fire in your lower belly was about to burst . Your skin was hot as Spencer rubbed your clit faster .

"That's a good girl, yeah. Cum for me. Show me how much you missed me baby!" He grunted into your ear while your orgasm washed over in a different way than before, Spencer made you squirt for the first time ever. "SPENCER!" You cried out as you watched the clear liquid gush out of you as his cum filled you up to the brim. He grinned ear to ear as he slowly pulled out of you and did his best to help you clean yourself up.

"You know ... that's just the start of what I have planned for you." Spencer kissed you softly before helping into the SUV and took you back to the apartment to continue on with what he had in store .

#Spencer Reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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luveline · 2 years ago

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I think I might be technically evil for sending you three requests in one day when you’re probably overloaded with everyone else’s too… but if I may be evil for a moment… could you do something where shy!reader has a sleepover with Jonathan or something and she does her nightly routine and she does it for him too?? Like I want to tie his hair up in a lil ponytail and sweep the baby ones back with a fluffy headband and do a little skincare routine on him <3 I’m giving you so so so many kisses my love <3

technically a gorgeous sunbeam whom I adore maybe <3 shy!fem!reader teaching Jonathan the steps to her skincare routine ♥︎

If you were to describe Jonathan in one word, it would be calm. The kind of calm he's worked hard for. When his home can be anything but and his past rife with noise, Jon has carved a little slice of quiet sanctuary. You love sharing it with him.

The closer you've grown, the less you worry about disrupting said sanctuary. The first few times you'd slept over you followed his motions, washing your face with his minty bar soap, changing when he changed, watching movies until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

But a girl can't live like that every weekend. It's bad for your skin, no matter how much you like him.

So you'd introduced small parts of your routine on a trial basis. Jonathan, eternal sweetheart, loverboy extraordinaire, hadn't minded one bit. In fact, he'd been curious.

He stands in the doorway of the bathroom with a charmed smile on his face. You blink through suds and catch his stare, surprised he's put down his book.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Just face soap," you say, turning on the faucet again to cup a handful of water and wash away the last of the suds. You dry your eyes quickly with a small face towel. "Sorry, was I being super loud?"

"No," he says, hand on his elbow.

"Oh," you say, and you're timid yourself, so you know the look on his face rather well. "What do you want, baby?"

Jonathan sits down on the wooden box by the door that serves as their laundry basket. He's had his hair cut recently, and the shorter strands against his forehead beg for some handling. You nibble your lip, wondering if it's worth the embarrassment. Jonathan has had you more vulnerable than this, what's the worst that could happen?

You raise your hand to his hair, stroking it gently from his head to see his eyebrows clearly.

"I could do it with you?" he asks. "Your routine."

"My routine? It's not so complicated, Jon, just moisturiser and…" You cross your arms behind your back. "You want to do it with me?"

"Yeah. Is that weird?"

"No," you say. It's so, so sweet. "Not weird."

You take your headband off and slip it over his head. His eyes close in total trust, and you try to deserve it, using your gentlest touch. Once it's around his neck you pull it back up, easing his short hair away from his face.

"I forgot what your forehead looked like," you say.

He gazes up at you adoringly.

You slide the hair tie from your wrist and tilt your head in question. He smiles like he's somewhere else, and that'll have to do. He gets distracted sometimes, and you don't know if it's the truth but whenever you ask what he's thinking about he always says, "You." Best to not ask, and avoid the hot flush.

You rake your fingers through his hair to get the longer pieces beside his neck and make the world's smallest pony tail at the nape.

"Pretty," you say gently. You flick his ponytail. "If you wash your face, we'll do the rest together."

Jonathan stands up and skirts around you to the sink, his fingers touching the tiniest slice of your exposed midriff for a millisecond more than what could be accidental. You know he didn't do it to make you self-conscious, but you pull your pyjamas a little higher up your hips.

He goes to use his soap. You hand him yours before he can start, and he makes quick work of washing his face. You splash your face to make it tacky again and open your palm, dipping it toward him so he does the same.

"Toner. I think I'm supposed to use a cotton round, but I just put it in my palm."

"It's purple," he says, startled.

"The bottle," you say with a delighted laugh. "It's clear, swears. I think it's mostly water and aloe vera. It made my nose pores smaller."

"Did it?" he asks.

You shrink. "It didn't?"

"No, I mean. I never noticed them changing size." He laughs and shakes his hand. You tip a small well of toner into his hand and he waits for you to do the same for yourself, copying your hand movements exactly.

"It's sticky." He wipes his hand in your bare arm.

"Thanks, jerk. Just wash it off!"

He tries to hide his smile and fails.

You pick up your smaller tube. "Moisturiser," you say.

He knows how to use it, so you don't bother explaining why you put it all over until he asks, "I get all greasy on my nose, do I…?"

"I'm not sure. I think, uh." You realise you're going to have to talk about something he doesn't know, and you never enjoy that. Correcting people feels like a nightmare — you're always worried they'll get annoyed or defensive, or that you'll come off as a know it all. But Jonathan doesn't do that, so you explain. "When you wash your face, you take all the oils off of your skin, and your skin reacts by making more of it. Sometimes it makes too much, and you end up greasy. If you moisturise it can help give some of the oil back and your skin doesn't feel the need to make too much." You pat a white smear across his cheek. "At least, that's what I think. I could be wrong."

"Sometimes I use some of that serum your mom got me, but I skipped it today because I ran out. Sorry, Jon, it's much shorter than I thought it was now we're doing it."

"I bet you're right," he says. His smile is gooey smooth. The entire time you'd been talking, he'd looked entranced. "What's next?"

"I don't mind. Five minutes doing something with you is better than without." He peels your headband off like he hasn't just said something insanely lovely. "How do I look?" he asks, his dampened baby hairs a wild curling mess around his face.

You tuck your arm into his. "You look perfect."

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers drabble #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers x fem!reader #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers fic #jonathan byers scenario #jonathan byers blurb #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #shy friday

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 years ago

Text

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where volunteering sucks. And freshmen are just as bad for your health as energy drinks.

Or the seventeenth installment of the SKZ!pack prequel series.

Tags: Skz, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, SKZ!pack, SKZ!abo, Poly!skz, omegaverse, pack!prequel, skz!Pack prequel series, new, update, skz x you, skz x reader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n, fluff, skz fluff

Genre: Fluff

Title: Orientation

“I can’t believe you let hyung talk you into volunteering. Let alone a whole day of giving tours to baby freshmen who have proven to be no smarter than a box of rocks and just as annoying.” Hyunjin scoffs as he catches sight of you, tugging on your ‘Department of Sciences’ hoodie.

Jisung makes a noise of annoyance in his throat, a nonverbal beratement at Hyunjin to stop moving around so goddamn much, and paints another coat of nail polish across the omega’s nail, his tongue stuck between his lips in concentration.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “You get a class credit for doing it. It’s an easy A.”

Hyunjin snorts, but stays still this time, giving you an unconvinced stare from the kitchen table. “Still can’t believe it.”

“And I still can’t believe that you all took bets on my kinks.” Chan enters the kitchen now on the tail end of the conversation, straightening his unruly curls with his fingers, already sporting his navy ‘Department of Music’ sweatshirt. He gives Hyunjin a sharp stare, only given away by the slightly amused twitch to his lips. “So I guess we’re even.”

Minho appears in the doorway, looking entirely too sleep rumpled for almost eleven in the morning, and scowls at all of you.

“What the hell are you all doing in my kitchen?”

“Hanging out.” Hyunjin offers unhelpfully, as Jisung finishes one of his hands with a flourish and an admonishment to blow carefully on the wet nails.

“I think the freshmen are cute.” Felix chimes in, sliding into the seat next to Hyunjin and resting his head lightly on the other omega’s shoulder. “They’re precious, all wide eyed and innocent and excited for a new year.”

Minho looks downright exasperated now.

“Oh my god, is literally everyone here?”

Jisung scoffs. “You would. Leave it to Sunshine Angel Baby Felix to think the newest wave of fresh meat is ‘adorable.’”

“I hate the freshmen.” Changbin grunts, sliding carefully past Minho in the doorway, headed straight for the fridge, as he tugs open the door and reaches inside to pull out a bottle of orange juice. “They come into the studio spaces and fuck all the equipment up.”

He lifts the juice to his lips in an annoyed sort of motion and takes a swig right from the jug.

“Seo Changbin, I know you did not just drink straight out of my carton like some sort of bumbling, disgusting, uncivilized neanderthal.”

Changbin looks suitably apologetic as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Sorry, hyung.”

“The actual worst thing about freshmen though, is that they don’t know how to keep their stupid hands or thoughts to themselves.” Hyunjin continues with barely concealed annoyance, as Seungmin skirts around the still lurking Minho and tosses Changbin a cup from the cabinet with remarkable ease.

Minho sighs and scrubs down his face with his hand as if he’s about to commit murder, before he turns and disappears back down the hallway to his room without a word.

A moment later, a door slams shut.

“Yeah.” Jisung agrees with a vicious nod, digging around in Minho’s pantry and emerging victoriously with a bag of chips in his fisted grip, which he uses to point sternly in Hyunjin’s direction, then your own. “Noona is hella hot-goddamn fine even-and those little cretins are gonna be hitting on her alllllll day.”

Beside you, Chan makes a sound of betrayal in his throat.

“What am I, chopped liver?”

You grin and turn to the put-out alpha standing beside you, patting his cheek a few times, none too gently, with the open palm of your hand.

“You’re very pretty, Christopher. Now c’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

********

You pop open a much needed can of Monster on your walk across campus, and Chan immediately gives you a judgmental side eye as you lift the energy drink to your lips.

“Energy drinks are bad for you, you know.”

You take a long sip, and stare him down boldly. “Funny, cause you know what else is bad for me? Children. And we’re about to spend the whole day with a fuck ton of them.”

Chan considers you for a moment, dark eyes thoughtful, and then reaches for the can, fingers curling around your own as he steals it and raises it to his own lips for a quick swig.

“Touche.”

You walk in silence for several moments, gravel crunching beneath your feet, and then Chan says, glancing sidelong at you once more, “You look cute, you know? In your department sweatshirt.”

You roll your eyes and hide the smile that’s threatening behind your teeth.

Instead, you turn to him and raise a brow, keeping your expression serious.

“I’d look cuter if it were off of me though.”

Chan chokes on the sip of energy drink he has just stolen, and you laugh as he hands you back the can once more, coughing, desperately trying to scrub off the spilled stain that now marks the front of his hoodie.

“Shit.”

You pull him to a stop, turning him to face you as you knock his fumbling hands out of the way and pat at the spilled energy drink with a napkin from the recesses of your backpack.

You’re aware he’s watching you, but you purposefully keep your gaze downturned, focusing more than is necessary on wiping away the stain from the navy material.

You finally chance a glance up at him through your lashes.

“You’re just too easy, baby. I had to.” You give a little laugh and a shrug as you finally release your hold on him, but don’t step away. “Sorry.”

Something flickers across his gaze at your words, but you don’t catch what it is before it disappears, and then he says quietly, “Say that again.”

You tilt your head and stare up at him, confused.

“What? Sorry?”

He shakes his own head, curls falling into his eyes, and there is a thin ring of gold around his pupils now, bleeding into the caramel of his irises.

“No. What you called me.”

Understanding dawns on you, and you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden heavy scent of rain in the surrounding air.

“What, baby?”

Chan hums, a contented sort of rumble in his chest, and your wolf practically salivates at the way his pupils dilate in response to your voice, and that word.

“Interesting.” You muse, smirking now.

You take a step closer to him.

Chan lets out a long, controlled breath between barely parted lips, and shakes his head, and when he looks at you again, there’s no sign of the gold, of the alpha, that plagued his eyes, only moments before.

He offers you the hint of a sheepish smile as you feel your own wolf retreat a bit.

“Sorry. It’s been awhile.”

You study him for another long moment, and then put some space in between you once more.

“Changbin calls you ‘babe’ at the studio all the time. He told me.”

Chan grimaces as you both continue to walk once more.

“Yeah, but that’s not the same, that’s just in joking. Bros being bros.”

“Is it?” You query, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, and you see realization begin to cross his face.

“Isn’t it?” He repeats back slightly under his breath, brow furrowed.

You groan and roll your eyes, hurrying your steps so he has to catch up to you, still looking deep in thought.

“God, the music department is so gay.”

********

“Okay, any questions?” You clap your hands to get the chattering group of freshmen’s attention, as Chan does his best to round them up into one space outside the campus cafeteria.

One of the girls-Rheena? Raina?-raises her hand.

You point to her.

“Yeah.”

She glances at Chan like he’s put the stars in the sky, her pale pink lips slightly agape as she ogles.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Chan looks caught off guard, glancing at you with a hooded expression, one brow raised.

You sigh. “Yes.” You glance around the group, ignoring the crestfallen look on the omega girl’s face. “Any other questions?”

Another freshman raises their hand, this time, a boy.

You don’t like the cocky look in his eye.

“How’d you manage to bag another alpha? Isn’t that like, weird or something?”

You sigh again, longer this time, and mutter beneath your breath, “I meant questions about the tour, god.”

You force a smile onto your face and stare down the smirking little shit-newly alpha-as you say tightly, “It’s not weird. Perfectly acceptable actually.”

The boy looks like he’s about to say something else, but luckily, Chan jumps in before he can speak again.

“Okay!” He claps his hands loudly and grins at the freshman. “Lunch time! You can enter the cafeteria through the doors behind you, use the cards we showed you to pay for your meal plan, and then find somewhere to sit.” He glances down at the watch he wears and then back to the group of kids before you. “You’ve got an hour and a half, and then we need to meet back here for the final leg of the tour, okay? Everybody got that?”

There are several nods and murmurs of agreement, and then the group of freshmen disperse and disappear into the swinging doors that lead to the cafeteria.

You blow out the annoyed breath you’ve been holding and subtly flip little alpha man off behind his back as he leaves your sight.

Beside you, Chan chuckles.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t like kids.” You scoff and shoot him a glare. “It’s not that I don’t like kids, okay? I just don’t like that kid.”

Chan grins, all flashing pointed teeth, and hands you your sack lunch as you both settle onto the cement stairs behind you, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches you dig around for your sandwich.

“Fair. But you also have to remember-” He takes a bite of his own sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “-it sucks to present. He’s probably dealing with a whole slew of hormones from his alpha that he didn’t even have to think about before.”

You chew sullenly, unwilling to give Chan the point he deserves.

He takes a sip from his coke and glances at you sidelong, waiting.

You sigh and crush your own now empty can between your fingers.

“Fine. I’ll try to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

Chan grins, tossing his eaten lunch into the nearest trash can, before he leans over and pats your head in an altogether annoying way, which is why it catches you off guard completely when he murmurs in your ear, breath warm on your skin, voice dipping into deep alpha timber.

“Good girl.”

You swallow your bite of sandwich, now dry in your mouth, and try not to think about earlier, when he had asked you to repeat what you had said, in that same lilting, deep, commanding tone.

Say that again.

You repress a shudder and throw your own half eaten lunch into the same trash can.

“Well if it isn’t my two favorite nerds.”

A familiar voice breaks through the tension of the moment, followed by a snap of Autumn in the air, and you both glance up as San, grinning ear to ear, comes into view around the corner of the cafeteria.

You immediately groan even as Chan stands to give the incoming beta a high five.

San’s face doesn’t lose its grin as they both settle back down beside you, the beta throwing his arms around the two of you and pulling you close.

“Sup, alphas?”

You roll your eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you’re here? Although-” You glance to where he appeared, half expecting to see Wooyoung rounding the corner at any moment. “-where’s your better half? I’d think your ugly mug would scare the children if he’s not around.”

You offer him a sweetly innocent smile.

San scoffs. “Please. I’m hot as fuck and you know it.”

A crisp, cold wave of early Autumn washes over you at his words, and you make a show of pinching your nose.

“Seriously, Sannie, did he forget your leash? There’s no other way he’d let you wander around on your own.”

“For your information, I hold his leash, so jot that down-” San leans into you and runs his cold nose along your throat, even as you shove him away from you. He gives you a grin so wide his eyes disappear into crescents. “-and second, he’s rounding up our kids for the second half of the tour.”

“You let him do that on his own?” Chan asks with slight amusement, glancing down at his watch, even as he stands and stretches.

“Of course.” San shrugs, dark eyes gleaming now, as he smirks wickedly. “I wanted him to know what the rest of us have to deal with on a daily basis, living with him.”

“Cruel.” You remark, but there’s respect in your tone, and he knows it.

“Cruel, but just.” He gives you a wink, and you grin.

San stands, towering next to Chan, and stretches his own arms above his head, his maroon ‘Department of Dance’ sweatshirt riding up to reveal a tan swath of skin, and the beginning lines of the dark ink of his matching tattoo that he shares with his moonmate, sketched across his hip.

You stand as well, gathering up the last of your trash, and San gives you a questioning look.

“Where’s Minnie? Couldn’t convince him to come this year?”

You snort beneath your breath. “Lee Minho would rather pull out his own teeth than have to deal with freshmen-and you-all day.”

San makes a wounded face, always dramatic, as you all begin walking toward the cafeteria and the bustling groups of freshmen.

“Damn. Harsh.” He grins roguishly. “I was really looking forward to us wearing matching couple’s hoodies.”

“Pretty sure Minho burned that sweatshirt the first week of school. Something about ‘lack of school spirit and maroon isn’t his color.’” Chan remarks dryly from San’s other side, and the beta mocks a pout.

“He would.”

San glances over your head and waves wildly to someone, and you follow his gaze, finding a harried looking Wooyoung standing with a large group of gathered freshmen, tapping his foot impatiently and glaring at the beta beside you.

San whistles beneath his breath. “He looks mad.”

You nod in agreement. “You’re gonna die.”

Chan claps the beta on the back. “Hell of a way to go, man.”

San sighs, and then he perks up again, whirling to face the two of you even as he walks away, walking backward and somehow narrowly avoiding every freshman in his path.

He points to the two of you. “Oh, hey! We’ve got a freshie in our group that doesn’t belong. Not interested in Dance or anything down that alley whatsoever, but he’s still undecided major wise. Care if I send the little dude to you for the second half? Maybe he’ll dig science or music.”

Beside you, Chan shrugs.

“Sure. Send him over.”

San gives you an enthusiastic double thumbs up, and turns to run in the direction of the still waiting Wooyoung.

“Think they’ll accept a trade?” You remark sarcastically beneath your breath, as your own group comes into view, cocky little alpha shit right up front and center, your gaze immediately falling to him.

Chan nudges you warningly in the side, and you bite back a smirk.

He’s addressing the group of waiting freshmen, when San saunters over with the newest member of your entourage, pulling him up beside you quietly as Chan continues to go over the itinerary for the rest of the day.

You glance over your shoulder at the beta, and unwittingly, your gaze falls to the boy beside him.

He’s small, dark red hair falling over the tips of his ears, pointed features pretty and delicate, fox-like, the way he holds himself reminding you a little bit of Felix, unsure and hesitant.

San is saying something to you, but you’re not registering, because something deep inside-your wolf-is keeping your gaze pinned on the mysterious freshman at his side.

And then, it hits you.

He doesn’t smell. He doesn’t have a scent.

Whereas the rest of the incoming students haven’t quite learned how to control their pheromones yet, their scents strong in your nose, telling you exactly where they fall in the subgender way of things, the boy in front of you smells like nothing-nothing except laundry detergent and maybe a little bit of sweat from the high overhead sun.

He’s unpresented? Is that even still a thing?

Curiosity instantly rears its head, and your wolf simultaneously urges you forward without a second thought.

You hold out your hand, and San stops talking, looking at you curiously.

“(Y/N).” Your fingers don’t waver, as you watch the boy glance to you in slight surprise, and then down to your still outstretched hand. “And you are?”

After another brief moment of hesitation, he places his palm in yours.

“Yang Jeongin.”

San chuckles, giving you a knowing look, which you dutifully ignore, and claps the new student on the back once more.

“Well, you’re in good hands, Jeongin. I’m gonna get going.”

And then he’s gone, with one last pointed look in your direction.

It’s then that you realize your fingers are still interlaced with Jeongin’s, and you pull back abruptly, clearing your throat, even as Chan finally finishes his long winded speech to the other freshmen.

“Well, Jeongin.” You motion with your head to the group behind you. “Hopefully you think Music and Science are a bit more interesting than whatever those two goons had going on in your old group.”

Jeongin stares at you for a moment, and then he smiles, and something within you loses breath at the sight, his sharp teeth flashing, eyes disappearing into crescent moons within his cheeks.

“I’m sure I’ll fit in just fine.”

You swallow hard, and pull your gaze away from his own, glancing at Chan now, who is staring at the two of you quizzically, one eyebrow raised in silent question.

You shrug in the other alpha’s direction, and then turn back to Jeongin with a nod.

“I’m sure you will, Yang Jeongin. I have no doubt about that.”

************************************************************************

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labyrinthofsphinx · 7 months ago

Text

Statistical Outliers

Part 9 ish of drabble. I had to cut this part from the other because it was just too long. I think. It seemed long. Some hints into my headcanons for Vox's backstory too.

“Velvette, the kid is going to stay with me today.”

She gave him a look in the reflection of her mirror. He caught her in the middle of putting on what she would call ‘her face’. To be honest, he always thought she looked just fine without the makeup. She was a natural beauty, not an artificial one. But, she insisted, and he was never going to tell her that her efforts were a waste. It was an artform, he’d suppose. Back when he was alive, he’d only ever used the barest amount of makeup right before filming, enough to make his face look, universally, one color. It was a bit of a pain to work around when TV switched to color, but you got to keep moving forward, as they say.

As she lined her lips, a shadow of suspicious snuck into her eyes.

“Why?”

His chest hurt from the breath he was holding. When he let it go, it shook his body down to his shoes.

“You know why.”

He knows that Vel had probably also been trying to get the kid to sign the dotted line. Her methods usually involved some bullying, some sarcastic remarks, then switching it up to something that sounded sweet. She played both good cop and bad cop in her negotiations. ‘Oh, look how terrible you are, see how people dislike you’ and ‘But I like you. Here, let me help make other people see what I see. Let’s show them the real you’ are common phrases of hers. Clearly, it hasn’t been effective in this particular case. Not that anything Vox has done has been any better, but, well, he’s glad someone else tried at least.

“What do you plan to do?” She asked, pressing her lips together and making a pop sound.

“Feed him to the wolves, I suppose. Threats didn’t do much. I tried the honey after.”

“We could always make him to watch Val break your screen until he agrees.” She joked.

The worst part was, he had a sneaking suspicion that that might’ve actually worked if Vox wasn’t completely against the idea of Val beating the crap out of him. Besides, Val was indisposed today. His moth girls kept fluttering about the lounge tending to him. He’s pretty sure one of them already got her wings pulled this morning.

“Already filled my quota for broken screens this week, but thanks for the advice.” He said a little bitterly.

“Got it fixed in record time though.” She mentioned as she moved on to double checking her eyelashes. “He’s quite the little handyman.”

Ah, well, then she knows.

“He fix something of yours?”

“Yeah, my stupid co-worker.” She teased. Then, she ran a quick finger through her hair and turned around. “Look good?”

“Always.” He acknowledged.

Had she not just finished fixing her lipstick, he might’ve just got another kiss on the side of his face.

“Vee?”

“Yeah, Vel?”

“Don’t hurt yourself, yeah? With this whole…thing. I know you and Val are kinda stuck on getting it in writing, but there’s always something else we could do.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. An electrical collar or something. Just don’t beat yourself up too, ‘kay?”

First Val was being introspective, now Velvette. Was Hell freezing over?

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She turned about, the waves in her skirt shifting when she moved. She readjusted her leather vest, then blew him a kiss as she stepped out.

“Kisses, darling.”

He pretended to catch it and put it in his coat pocket.

He took a moment to collect himself, then stepped back out. He was not prepared, at all, for the kid to leap over the furniture towards him.

“Velvette said we were hanging out today. Is that for real?”

Okay, Vox. You can do this. You’re on air! Smile for the camera!

“Yeah, you’re my problem today.” The kid’s tail swished behind him, just barley containing joy. “I’ve got some work to do this morning, and a conference around noon. I want you to come with me.”

“What’s the conference about?” He asked.

“A company concern that needs to be addressed. With any hope it will be a short meeting.”

“Are there going to be a lot of others there? I don’t need to get dressed up do I?” He says, as if he wasn’t already in top of the line fashion via Vel. Everything from the cut of his pants to the lining of his shirt was custom. It wouldn’t be good enough for her feed otherwise.

“You’re fine as is.” He answered, using his phone to distract himself from those peering, curious eyes.

“Do you want me to get coffee for you and, uh, your presenters?” He said, obviously not sure what Vox had in mind. He can only imagine that he was thinking of every other conference meeting from every movie about a dad who doesn’t spend enough time with their kids around the holidays. It was always a bunch of old men discussing numbers, profits, and something that sounded too greedy for the message of the movie.

“That won’t necessary. Either way, we…have some time. I’ve got some broadcasts to do. It’s not something you can really help with so-”

“You mean when you plug yourself into your chair setup?” He asked.

“…yes?”

“Do you mind if I tag along? It gets boring sitting down all by myself.”

He had planned on just keeping him here, or maybe even his room, until the time came for the…conference. Problem was, he really didn’t need the kid catching on. And he didn’t have an excuse for why he couldn’t be in the monitor room that didn’t sound like an excuse, not after having him by his side all morning just the day before.

“Alright, but same rules as last time. No bothering me when I’m in the middle of something. Got it?”

“Yes!” The kid clasped his hand in a silent fist pump.

He took only a few steps forward, just enough to enter the lift, when a hand reached up and grabbed his own. The kid backed up away from the outer circle. He knew where the line ends now and where the actual lift began. That didn’t seem to make him any more confident that he wouldn’t trip and go falling down the chute.

Come on, Vox. You’re not his friend, remember?

He pulled his hand away, bringing it instead to cross across his chest. Crossed arms were not a good look. It always seemed defensive, and Vox has made a point of avoiding that particular posture for a long time now. If he was going front of media, he’d never allow himself to be filmed like that. As they were just going to the monitor room, it didn’t matter. Still, the kid knew something was up. Nervous as he was about the lift though, he didn’t fight Vox for his hand back. Instead, he grabbed onto his coattails. He better not rip them, he thought.

The lift dropped them off right where they needed to be. His sharks swam over a little eagerly. Vox’s presence in the morning always signaled breakfast, and today was no different. A quick wave and the electronic dispenser dropped down their usual chum. No special, living treats today…at least for now. Anyone could piss him off and end up as a side snack. His patience was already trying on himself.

“Hi, Anchor! Hi, Barge!” The kid greeted them as he walked by where they swam. Weirdly enough, Vox could swear they responded to the names, turning for a moment to focus their beady eyes on the kid. They were probably sizing him up, to see if Vox would finally be tossing him their way but…for a second, it almost looked like…whatever the shark equivalent was for tolerance.

“What did I say about touching the tank?” He made himself groan.

“But I didn’t touch the tank.”

“Yeah, well, don’t stand so close either. Your spit fogs up the view.” He was trying to pick an argument. Give him something to be mad at the kid for until noon, anything to make the time more tolerable. Instead of giving him a fight though, the kid sighed, shrugged, then joined Vox by the monitors.

Fine then! He can just drown himself in his work, a proven method of distraction. The cables snapped in, sparks dancing around his head, before he was suddenly pulled across the city. Millions upon millions of smaller consciousness ripped apart from the main stem and sent spiraling down wires, across phones, and popping up in TV sets across the ring.

So far so good. He kept his gaze out, to his empire and his enslaved viewership. ‘Trust us’ echoed back to him like a never-ending tunnel of voices. He could just stay here if he wanted, where physical things mattered little and his kingdom of stolen time lasted forever. He could get himself lost down winding threads of random topics: what new places popped up, what’s the latest trend, what’s the biggest gossip. The internet was a clusterfuck of thoughts all screaming into the void a bunch of nonsense with the hope that someone else out there would respond with something intelligent. It was a bunch of questions asked that have been asked before and by millions of others. It was a collection of knowledge; it was a dumpster fire of idiocy.

It was a great, mind-numbing distraction.

But his physical body felt something tapping against his chair. A series of taps, a code he’d memorized so long ago in the past that he remembered more from the muscle memory of writing it a hundred times than recognizing it from a glance.

It was a transmission. At least it would be, if hooked up to a transmitter.

Loxley to Foulfellow. Airways open. Ready to receive transmission.

That was just the kind of thing that would snap Vox from any distraction. The wires plugged into his head popped from the surge. His claws dug into his seat, creating a series of scars from the drag. Hot, seething rage forced his fans to overwork. All around, monitors sparked, accidentally catching them in the after current of his shock and anger. A piercing eye bore down on the little fox sitting next to him.

“Who are you contacting?” His voice filtered in from every single speaker about, making an odd feedback that contorted the message. It hardly sounded like a voice at all.

The kid seemed surprised by the sudden outburst. His head tilted to the side, innocent act already showing its face.

Oh, but he wasn’t going to fall for that again. And to think! He might’ve actually felt bad for what had to be done later. But it was always a trick. It was always a lie.

“Huh?”

He slammed his fist down, putting a dent in the metal armrest. The kid actually fell backwards from the impact and his own alarm.

“You think because you tapped in Morse that I didn’t understand? You think you could trick me? ME? That code is my mother tongue. I spent four fucking years of my life speaking only that code, and you thought you could slip that by me? Really?”

It was Alastor. He knew it in the pit of his heart, it was Alastor. Who else would he be contacting if not the fucking Radio demon himself.

“I wasn’t contacting anybody-”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Lie. To. Me.” He snapped, teeth ripping from the digital plane into the physical as he snarled.

“I’m not.” He said in a small voice. “Foulfellow is my grandpa.”

Vox pulled back, only slightly.

“…Explain.”

“My grandpa taught me morse when I was little, ‘cause I was too scared to talk when I was really young. I kinda tap things out of habit sometimes now when things are too quiet. His callsign was Foulfellow and my is Loxley.”

“Callsign?”

“Yeah, he was a pilot, you know? Back in World War II. His squad called him Foulfellow.”

His fans overcame the last of the heat, now just comfortably sitting at a cold, neutral temperature. Foulfellow? He felt like he’d heard the name before.

“Foulfellow…as in the ‘Flying Fox’ Foulfellow?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Why? Heard it before?”

Heard it? He watched it.

“He was one of the best, kid. Maybe the best. I don’t think they ever tracked his kills right.” He remembers it, clear as day. Assigned to get new footage to send home for the broadcasters. Show us something amazing, they said, something that was going to sell bonds. Well, he found it, filmed it, and set it home. Years later, he even played a role inspired by the man who terrorized the sky that day.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he was one of the meanest cats in the sky. I saw him scalp six in one day, then kept strafing the ground troops. Had them pinned until he finally had to go back for fuel. Did…did you not know your grandpa’s a war hero?”

“I mean, sort of. He didn’t talk about it too much. He always said killing people didn’t make you a hero, saving people did.” A glint caught in the kid’s eye. “Wait, did you know him?”

No, but he wishes he had. After the war, people made heroes into stars, real or imaginary. If you served, which nearly everyone did whether they wanted to or not, you had a much better shot of being America’s new headliner. He knows. It did wonders for his career. Before he’d been offered the role, he heard that the directors went to the man himself to play the character inspired by him. He was told he refused, said Hollywood wasn’t for him. Last he heard, the Flying Fox planted his feet in the ground someplace, started a family with that little army nurse he married.

And here was proof. Huh.

“Don’t ever tell anyone what you just told me.”

“But-”

“Listen. There’s a reason most everyone here doesn’t use their real names.” Unless you were a nobody in real life, like a certain red freak, then it didn’t matter as much. “Everyone’s got enemies. Scores to settle. If you’ve got a famous name, you’ve got a big target on your head.”

“…is that why you don’t see like…really famous evil people from history down here? They’re all hiding?”

“Trust me, kid. If they aren’t hiding, they’re dead and never coming back.” Hell didn’t tolerate rivals. If someone died and their large movement died with them, they are immediately targeted by overlords. Most didn’t last the week. Hell also had its own weird code. Similar to a prison, perhaps, where inmates decided that certain people were just not worth the breaths they were taking. That’s one of the reasons that Vox almost never saw anybody from the opposite side of the war. That, and he might kill them himself. There was never a bad time to burn one of them from the inside out.

“I always thought it was because of the deals, ‘cause you have to sign your real name for it to mean something.” He added.

That was another part of it. People have drawn the similarities between deals in Hell with deals in fairytales. As far as Vox knew, which was considerable judging from how many employees he had, dealmaking didn’t strip a person of their name entirely. Though, maybe it could, in a warped sense of the meaning. And, it was a road that seemed to go both ways. Say what you will, ‘Vox’ was a completely different person when he was above ground and still going by the name his father picked out.

On the subject of family members, he wondered what dear old dad was doing. It’s strange that he hasn’t come across him down here. Then again, maybe he has. He could’ve barbequed him a long time ago and just never known. Aside from personal experience, he wasn’t exactly memorable.

“Names have power here.” He conceded. “And so does knowledge. Keep yours close to your chest, got it?”

“Got it.” He nodded back. “So…you said you were speaking Morse for four years-”

He rolled his eyes.

“Kid, I am not going into my past.”

“Um, okay, but I just wanted to know what your callsign was.”

Oh. Um.

“…Bogie. They…the boys called me Bogie as a joke, after the actor.”

“Bogie? Like Humphrey Bogart?” He chirped.

He fought tooth and nail with his face to keep it the fuck together. Don’t you dare smile at that.

“How do you even know who that is?”

“How could I not?” He almost sounded offended, before winking. “‘Here’s looking at you, kid’.”

Okay, whoever it was that forced this child to watch the classics…well done. Bravo, truly. There was one of them left in the world with taste…until they killed him. See, this is why they can’t have nice things.

For just a moment, in the back of his head, he wondered if he could start up movie nights again. He tried so hard with Vel and Val, but he had to let them pick the films sometimes. Either it ended up with Val putting on something to seduce Vox, or Vel put on some recent flick she learned about through the grapevine, things hardly ever worth the hours wasted watching them. Then, she’d jump on her phone the whole time it was playing. Both of their attention spans were exactly zero for any movie with drama, charm, and dialogue that required there not to be explosions every two seconds. Look, he enjoyed a CGI action flick like anyone else, but if he ever wanted to watch a movie that was actually good, not just entertaining, then he had to watch it in his own time. And when did he ever have that?

“You know, for a kid that died in the 90s, you sure do watch a lot of old crap.”

“It’s not crap.” He defended immediately. “And ask Velvette. Certain things never go out of style.”

Oh great. He was quoting them now. The last thing he needed was for the kid to start sounding like any of them. If he ever quotes Val, he’d seriously consider a muzzle.

“Right, well, I’ve got to get back to work, so keep quiet and out of the way.”

“’Kay.” He proceeded to do exactly not that, walking up close to the tank again and encouraging his sharks over. His fingers played against the floor like piano keys. Vox’s eyes from every corner of the room caught the pattern, even if he couldn’t hear from softness of the taps.

Loxley hailing Bogie. Message received. Ending transmission until all clear. Over and out.

A series of blips peppered out from one of his speakers. It was so inconvenient how convenient it was to transfer his thoughts across the mainframe sometimes.

Bogie transmitting to Loxley. Read you loud and clear. Directions to be given shortly. Over and out.

The kid’s ears flicked back, and he lit up as Vox turned his attention back to work.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel ficlet #drabble #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel the vees #the vees

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n7punk · 1 year ago

Text

Okayyyyyyyy now the informational version of the doll post is up, I get be all silly casual editorial over here :3c I was gonna do it as a reblog but honestly the doll post is already so stupidly long, I'm just gonna do it separately and I'll link it in the replies on the main post, but this post is Not gonna make sense unless you read that first lol

a) I dont think the bodies coming from two different lines is super obvious, but once you know it, things click. Bow's arms are weirdly narrow for his size compared to the girls’ proportions, for instance, and though he is the tallest in the show, he's especially tall in this line. You can even see it down to their underwear. Often dolls have a few molded lines on their body to represent underwear and give the illusion of "decency" when undressed. The girls have a single thin waistband line, She-ra has none (she needed not to if her Battle of Bright Moon doll was going to work), and Bow has a much thicker waistband with further details like seams and a fly (for some reason, but Bow now wears tighty whities I guess).

b) I know the bodies “came of DC Super Hero Girls” but I really wish I had more details than just that quick comment. That makes it seem like Adora, Glimmer, and Catra all came from the same line. I know Adora and Shadow Weaver are using the same body, and I’m pretty sure Catra is too because I found photos of Adora undressed on ebay and she had a weird circle outline on her back like there was an optional hole that was filled in, but like, why did that line even have a model with a tail hole? We know Glimmer is a “curvier sculpt,” so did that line already have some body diversity or did she come from another unnamed line? I don’t know, and I don’t have the dolls to compare. I'm just assuming it's a different body type from the same line since that’s all that was said (listen, I need to be told things very directly and clearly or I feel like I might be getting them wrong. Remember when I didn’t think I was autistic? Wild).

c) She-ra's accessories (well, her gauntlets and boots) are a little big for her and there's gaping. You can see it a bit even in the promotional pictures and it’s not surprising given the budget on these dolls. It probably gets worse with heat, though, so shipping might exacerbate the issue. Maybe the best time to move these dolls is winter LOL

d) She-ra's peplums are attached to her clothes and not her plastic emblem, which I think you can guess, but putting it out there in case. It's still confusing to me why her peplums are sparkly (and transparent for the core design). It's the one big "miss" in the designs from the show (well, Catra's outfit is also weirdly mesh up top and the color is off).

dd) Honestly all of She-ra's skirts are fucked, but everything about her Battle Armor doll is weird. I did a whole other post about how weirdly budget Battle Armor She-ra was compared to the other dolls despite being twice the cost. I mean I know Swift Wind is in that set so two models raises the price, but he seems pretty budget too, so like… what the hell Mattel.

ddd) Oh yeah, the tulle of the regular skirt is actually shockingly high quality. Like tulle is a Bad Texture for me (go back to the autism bulletpoint) and I don’t mind this. I mean I’m not gonna seek it out, but it doesn’t make me recoil and it’s soft enough to not cause me issues. I can say that about very few tulles.

e) I don’t know if this is a difference between digital model and final production or if SDCC She-ra got a slightly different accessory cast then the regular one, but if you look at the 3D model for She-ra’s chest emblem, it shows one thick bracing bar up her spine. In the final doll, it’s two bars, thinner and a bit further apart, that basically frame her spine, with one bar attached to each half of the emblem. And of course, it hooks together with pegs. Those aren’t shown on the model either and that's why I’m inclined to say that is just an earlier model of it. No stock photos of SDCC She-ra show her back under the cape, though, and checking it would necessitate removing her from the packaging, which I’ve never seen anyone do.

ee) Also, I didn’t know how to describe it well so I just didn’t put it in the post, but her regular cape isn’t straight across in the back. Rather, it has a v cut and “straps” that are sewn to each shoulder, so the top set of pegs and the crossbar for the emblem actually show through, but her hair covers it anyway. Once again, IDK about the SDCC one because I've never seen the back of her.

f) Shadow Weaver’s stand is hot garbage. It’s just a stick between her legs with tiny curves to (supposedly) cup each leg that she’s supposed to essentially balance on. Traaaaaaash. They're assuming no one will take her out of the packaging, ig.

ff) Okay also, Shadow Weaver's top isn't exactly a monastic scapular, but idk how else to describe it. Usually those drape over the shoulders and then are tied around the waist, while hers actually has a sleeve and is sewed together on one side, but then it has the long extension from a scapular, so I'm just going to use that to describe it since it's a fantasy bullshit amalgamation.

g) I know it seems like I have a Monster High bias (and I do) because I mention it multiple times, but since the guys leading the SDCC exclusives were two big minds behind it, it seemed like a valid comparison to draw. I researched what else the other team members did, but when I only turned up 3 out 4 of the modelers (Arpine, Kittaya, & Sean) working on Barbie and I couldn't say "all of them" anymore, I stopped looking since it really wasn't relevant. Monster High ended up being a good touchpoint due to being made by the same team/company, one of the dolls having its body come from that line, and it being the only other doll line I know literally anything about. Since Monster High (G3, anyway) costs nearly twice as much as these dolls (15$ vs 25$), they also felt relevant when it came to things like painted hair. Annalise specifically hyped up the dolls all having real hair? So I'm just kind of guessing that's something that isn't a given on dolls at this budget (and probably, unfortunately, especially so for textured hair). Again, pretty much everything I've learned about dolls has specifically been because of this line lol. I like looking at the new Monster Highs but I really don't know shit.

h) Also, I don't know how doll hair length is measured so I just went with 6 inches in the post, but regular She-ra has 5-7 inches of hair, depending on if you're supposed start at the base of the head or top of the head. Also I was using a ruler so. Not the most accurate.

i) I got kind of ambiguous answers on what counts as an articulation point, but at the end of the day the She-ra dolls have less than Monster High (I can say this definitively) and Monster High is listed as 12 on Dollect while She-ra in incorrectly listed as 13. There are 11 separate joints, with some also including a hinge so you can properly pose them, but I can't give you a list of what joints bend multiple ways or if any are ball joints (IDK how to identify one, I think I’ve made it obvious I'm out of my depth here). The joints are really stiff in my experience but they would probably loosen up if you worked them more, I’m just not going to take that risk.

j) Actually this should be up with the She-ra info so it's out of order but I'm not positive Battle Armor She-ra has the same hair as regular? In listings it looks shorter but it's hard to tell because it could just look different from being played with and when she's in box you can't tell since it's behind her. It seems really weird to me that every She-ra is so similar and so different at the same time so I really don't know. They might even be made out of different kinds of fibers. Like for the SDCC exclusive I'm pretty sure they prioritized looks so the hair might be made out of "worse" material as a result if it displays well (I mean, I know there's reflective strands in it, and those usually feel Bad). There's a lot of upgrades and really cool packaging for only an added 5$ for each doll so cutting some corners on those might make sense. These dolls are made on a relatively tight budget at the end of the day.

I wish I could get hands on with all these dolls because I think I could make the post way better then, and if I ever do manage to learn new info I’ll update the post, but I've done my best lol. Hopefully this post answers any questions people might or might not have about the dolls since they're kind of Difficult to actually get and check out yourself

#listen i'm not paying three figures for these dolls. or even three times retail price (which is still half of what most listings charge)#shoutout to the damaged out of box catra going for over 100 fucking dollars #i've got what i could beneath that barrier and i'll wait out the others lmao #though i don’t know that there’s any waiting out catra 😑#mylife #this addition wasn't meant for reblogging anyway so doing it separately works out #i Do have another addition to that post coming up that im. trying to figure out what im gonna do about #because i want to add photos of the packaging details that stock photos dont show but i dont like to take my own photos lmao #and i cant rn anyway so i'll wait until i can and figure it out then ig #merch #spop dolls

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matcheadz · 1 year ago

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HoS or Host of Seraphim Update!

NaNoWriMo did not work out! Woohoo! Anyway, here's your next chapter. Chapter 14: Devil's First Communion. I like food. You like food. I made myself hungry multiple times while writing this.

In this chapter, we follow Kyrie and her struggle with the intersection of her abandoned faith and motherhood. Kyrie doesn't understand Vergil, nor does she think she'll ever care to. But he means something to Nero, and thats what matters. All she can do is look out for her family and hope that the world, not Sparda, will look upon her favorably.

Also Kyrie WANTS her man, so mild warning for that.

Here's a spoiler-free snippet!

Nero smiled at her. “Hey.” Kyrie flushed. “Oh. Hello.” “Sorry about the water. Dante stuck his head under the sink instead of using the shower like I asked. “ Nero looked up at his spectral hands, still holding firmly onto Kyrie’s waist with his own human hands. “These are new.” He hummed appreciatively. “Where’d you get these from?” “Um. Lady thought of us while out with Trish. I was just about to put them away.” “That’s nice of ‘em. Let me help you.” “No. I quite like it here, actually.” It was Nero’s turn to flush this time. He bit his cheek, stifling a small smile as he brought her upright again. Kyrie giggled at him, pleasantly content in watching him turn his back to her and open the cabinet doors. “At least someone was able to do a little gift-giving” Nero sighed, stacking the porcelain safely away. “Client was so sure he had some kind of poltergeist scratching at the walls in the house. Turns out it was just a rat infestation. Had their tails all knotted together. Scared the absolute shit out of me. Dante wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it until he found out the hard way they were interested in the issues with the home’s septic tank.” Kyrie stifled her laughter at the image with an attempt at a sympathetic little hum. To ease the blow, she walked up behind him, encircling her arms around his chest and pressing her cheek to the middle of his back. In the last few days, Kyrie had found this angle to be the best way to listen to the sweet little purrs that had appeared after that dramatic stage play in the backyard. The rumble increased as she nuzzled into him. “I’m glad you two are spending more time together.” She whispered quietly. Nero’s back jolted with a soft exhaling of amusement. “Yeah well…I guess I have more reason to now that I know he’s not just ‘some guy.’” Nero turned in his spot, resting his lower back against the kitchen counter to gaze down at her sweetly. The flesh of his hands came down to rest again at her hips, thumbing barely perceptible circles over the band of her skirt. His spectral arms hesitated above them in the air, before slowly placing themselves over her shoulders. Strangely, Kyrie felt no weight, even as they made the shoulders of her blouse crease. “I think you and I both knew he wasn’t just ‘some guy,’ mio tesoro.” Kyrie whispered, reaching up onto the tips of her toes to meet his face.

#nerokiri #nero x kyrie #dadgil #devil may cry fanfiction #devilmaycry #my writing

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cynicalone94 · 1 year ago

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Alleyway

He sprints down the street after the fleeing offender.

Jason Demarcio has been linked to several high profile shootings in the last two weeks but he’d been in good shape until he’d taken a shot at a leading candidate in the race for Mayor.

That had gotten Intelligence on the case and now, less than twenty-four hours later they’d found their way to his front door.

Jason had rabbited and the team had immediately sped into pursuit.

The rest of the team is spreading through the area, looking for the best angles to cut him off. Jay it hot on his tail as he cuts into the alleyway between apartment buildings.

Jason manages to knock down a trash bin on his path to the fire escape ladder. Jay vaults it and gets on the ladder behind the man.

As he hits the third flight of stairs, he slows to radio in an update.

That’s when Jason turns back, catching him off guard with a hard shove that sends him flipping over the railing. He manages to catch hold with one hand mid flight but the angle is bad and he screams as his wrist cracks, unable to bend the way that momentum tries to force it to.

His shoulder is also jerked from the socket and his right arm falls uselessly to his side as he manages to get his left arm into a better position, gripping the lower railing.

Jason leans over the railing, still trembling from the adrenaline but a smirk beginning to form on his face.

“My, my.” he says, shaking his head. “How the tables have turned.”

“My team is just behind me.” Jay bites out. “They will catch up to you.”

“So I should get out of here.” Jason asks, tilting his head to the side.

“They’ll still find you.” Jay says. “Even if you get away today. It’ll go better for you if you help me.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason asks, a wide smirk spreading across his face. “Will you talk to the DA for me?”

“Dropping attempted murder to simple assault isn’t anything to scoff at.” Jay points out. “And they’ll be more inclined to cut you slack on some of the other charges.”

“I killed four people.” Jason reminds him. “I think I’m looking at life either way. So maybe I have a little fun first.”

He lifts his foot to rest of top of Jay’s left hand.

“Don’t do this.” Jay says, shaking his head. “Life in prison has a wider range of unpleasant than you might think.”

“See, I’m thinking you’d say just about anything you thought might keep me from killing you.” Jason says, grinding down just a little weight into Jay’s fingers.

If Jay had both arms in play, he would be back over that railing with his knee in Jason’s back by now. With his right arm out of action, he’s essentially helpless.

Footsteps thunder around the corner.

“Step away from the railing.” Hailey thunders.

“Put your gun down or your partner finds out what falling thirty six or so feet feels like.” Jason shouts back.

“Step away from the railing or I will shoot you.” Hailey replies.

The pressure increases. Bones snap. A shot rings out.

And then he’s falling.

Hailey barely watches Jason Demarcio drop to the platform of the fire escape before she’s racing toward her partner.

It’s strange to say but Jay falls better than anyone in the team, using training from his days in the Army almost instinctively to achieve the best landing possible.

But thirty six feet is a lot.

In the short time that it takes her to reach him, he hits the ground feet first, knees bent to disperse some of the impact, and then falls to his left side, left arm curled up around his head.

She screams an officer down report into her radio, ordering an ambulance as she skirts around his head, dropping to her knees on his other side.

“Jay!” she says, pulling herself back from touching him. “Jay can you hear me?”

His eyes are open just far enough to reveal the barest slit of his pupils but he doesn’t move, doesn’t react to her words.

Running through a mental first aid checklist, she checks his airway and breathing.

His airway seems clear but his breathing is off, respirations uneven and a visual depression visible on the left side of his chest as it expands.

She makes a note of the rib injuries and moves on, pressing her fingers gently against the side of his throat. His pulse is racing but seems strong and even and she directs her attention to his head.

The skin isn’t broken anywhere but there’s some redness. She knows the force of the landing would have knocked his brain around, bouncing it off the inside of his skull.

Glancing down at his legs she can see at least one open fracture and knows that there will be more damage as well as possibly damage to his pelvis.

None of which she has the training or equipment to do anything about.

Footsteps sound behind her and she turns, hand moving toward her weapon even as she recognizes Kim and Adam.

“I need an update on the ambo.” she shouts. “And then one of you needs to get up on that fire escape and check on Demarcio.”

“Going up.” Adam announces and Kim comes to a halt next to them, requesting an updated ETA on the ambulance.

Soon enough the paramedics are arriving and Jay is strapped onto a backboard and then bundled into the ambulance.

Antonio has always hated the OR waiting room at Med but he hates it more than usual today for the number of officers approaching to give him well wishes.

Hailey had been forced to divert upon arrival at Med, her clothing, weapon and equipment secured as evidence in the investigation of a police-involved shooting. And then she’d been taken off to a quiet room to make her statement.

Trudy had met them upon arrival with her bag of clothes and to sit with her while the protocol went through.

She’d begged Antonio to stay here, to keep posted on updates on Jay.

She shouldn’t be long. The situation was pretty clean cut as far as shootings go. She’d acted to eliminate an imminent threat of death or serious injury to her partner.

Even the hard noses at the DA’s office aren’t likely to try to rule it as unjustified.

Still, he knows it’s the last thing she wants to be dealing with while her partner is fighting for his life in surgery.

He’d only gotten a glimpse of Jay as he’d been wheeled past but he’d heard the paramedics’ reports.

Suspected head injury, broken ribs, and pelvic fractures. At least one confirmed open fracture to his left leg and several more fractures suspected. Blood pressure dropping rapidly, collapsed lung and who knows what else.

The man had fallen thirty six feet. It’s a miracle that he’s still alive. And very much in question if he will stay that way.

Nobody has come through the double doors by the time Hailey returns, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie that Antonio is pretty sure belongs to Jay and tailed by Trudy.

“No news yet.” he reports before she can ask.

“Means he’s still alive. Still fighting.” Trudy points out.

“I should have been better.” Hailey whispers, sniffling.

“You made one hell of a shot at over forty feet, Hailey.” Antonio points out.

“Well, I should have made it faster.” she says, sinking into a chair and hugging her arms around herself.

They sit in silence for the next fourteen hours, the rest of the team joining them to create a wall protecting Hailey from the well wishers.

Finally, the door opens and Will steps out.

“He’s stable.” he says, looking like he’s aged ten years in a few hours. “Critical and far from out of the woods but stable.”

“Can we see him?” Hailey asks.

“He’s on his way to PACU.” Will answers. “He’ll be moved up to the ICU in the next thirty minutes or so and you guys will be able to see him then.”

Hailey frowns.

“I know you want to see him.” Will says, reaching out to put his hand on her shoulder. “Soon. I promise.”

Hailey nods and sits back down.

Six eternal days later, her partner finally wakes up.

She’s sitting next to him, holding his hand and staring into space when his fingers tighten around hers.

“Jay?”

His head rolls toward her, eyes squeezing tighter.

It takes almost an hour for him to struggle his way to the surface but Hailey waits patiently until those blue-green eyes lock on hers.

“Hey partner.” she whispers.

“Hail.” he rasps.

She leans over to hit the call button.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hurts.”

“Sorry.”

“Wuh happened?”

“Perp threw you off a fire escape.” she tells him.

“Ouch.”

“I’ll say.” Hailey chuckles. “but you’re going to be okay.”

“Ja get the guy?” he asks.

“A little too late but yeah.” she says, face falling.

He frowns at her and she sighs.

“He was stomping your hand off the railing.” she answers. “I told him to get back or I would shoot him and he just crushed your hand more so I shot him but it was too late and you fell anyway.”

“Not yer fault.” he says.

“You scared the hell out of me. Watching you hit the ground like that….” she tells him, trailing off.

“I’m gonna be okay.” he promises her. “Everything hurts. But I’m gonna be okay.”

“You’d better be.”

#whumptober 2023 #no.7 #Alleyway #Chicago PD #fic #Jay Halstead

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littletail · 1 year ago

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Regression Fairy tail scenario

One of those times that people weren't so accepting of that Wendy is a Little..when Caregiver! Lucy Heartfilla took Little! Wendy to a nearby park for a while and Little! Wendy overheard some rather unkind comments from 2 insensitive rude young girls about the fact that she was drinking from a sippy cup and wearing a diaper-it was obvious considering that Wendy was wearing type of clothes that a young toddler would wear (Lucy only put Wendy in diapers as a precaution more than anything else because as far as anyone knew..when Wendy slipped in her headspace..she was known to have accidents in her sleep or when she wasn't sleep.)..Little! Wendy was hurt by the comments judging by the tears that welled up in her eyes..and Caregiver! Lucy Heartfilla standing up for her little.

(Sorry for the wait. I'm juggling life right now lol.)

Mean Girls

“Sissy! Sissy, look!” Wendy danced around Lucy.

“Look at my pretty girl!” Lucy squealed, lifting Wendy into her arms. “You excited to play in the park today?”

“Yes!”

“What do you want to do first? They have a play area if you want to go there. They have a slide, swings-”

Wendy shook her head and stuck her tongue out, “No swing.”

Right, her motion sickness would likely get in the way of that. “Well, what about the slide? Or do you want to play tag?”

“Tag!” Wendy booped Lucy’s nose.

“Tag it is, then, but first,” she put Wendy down, then took a moment to check the padding under her skirt, “I wanna make sure you’re dry first. Since a certain someone doesn’t tell Sissy when she uses her diaper,” she lightly teased.

Wendy giggled quietly.

Lucy went to stand back up, only to freeze when she heard some.. not so nice comments aimed their way. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting two younger girls, looking around Wendy’s age, talking rather loudly amongst themselves.

“Is that girl wearing a diaper under that skirt?”

“Why does she look so childish? It’s weird.”

“Do you think that woman with her enables this?”

“God, I pity her. If my mom treated me that way, I would die from embarrassment.”

Lucy growled to herself, but tried to stay focused on Wendy. If she heard them, then the young Slayer definitely heard them too. She could see it on Wendy’s face, so she quickly assured, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Ignore some mean girls. We’re here to have a good day, not to dwell on others who are jealous of how cute you are.”

Wendy giggled quietly, “Cute?”

“Very cute! My precious little Sky Dragon! Why don’t we play tag now, or hide-and-seek? Would you like that?”

“Hide an’ see!” Wendy squealed happily.

“Alright! You wanna hide first, or do you wanna seek first?”

“See!”

“Alright! Close your eyes and count to 30 for me, okay?” Lucy took Wendy’s hands in her own, before placing them over her eyes. Once Wendy started counting, Lucy took off, hiding in a fairly easy spot where she could also keep an eye on her Little.

“9… 10… 11…”

“Hey!”

Wendy uncovered her eyes, blinking curiously. Lucy froze again, ‘Oh no..’

“Look at this little baby,” one of the girls from earlier said. Her friend giggled, just as nastily, “How old are you supposed to be? Why are you such a baby? Aren’t you embarrassed by this?”

Wendy’s eyes started welling up with tears as she tried sputtering out something, anything, to say, “Well.. It’s.. It’s fun.. And..”

“It’s fun? I know you did not just say that. What a gross little baby!” the girl pushed Wendy back.

Lucy, now standing behind the girls after storming over, cleared her throat rather aggressively. When they turned to look at her, she growled out, “Where. Are. Your. Parents?”

They tried to keep standing tall, but Lucy could see the nervousness in their eyes.

“And uhh.. who are you?” the first girl asked rudely. Lucy narrowed her glare.

“I mean, yeah, why do you enable this? It’s so weird!” the other girl said.

“Let me get one thing straight here. You will not. Bully. My. Little. Girl. Do you understand?” Lucy hissed. “Now, I’m going to give you a choice. You can either leave now, or I will find your parents and tell them exactly what you’ve been saying, understand?”

“Now hang on a minute-”

“I said, do you understand?” Lucy said, a little more forcefully.

“Yes ma’am..” they nodded.

“Good, now get out of here. Hopefully you have learned something from this,” Lucy walked past them, picking up Wendy.

Once the two girls were gone, Lucy gently booped Wendy’s nose, “Do you want to go back to playing?”

“No more hide an’ see..” Wendy murmured.

Lucy couldn’t say she blamed her. In fact, she didn’t want to be away from her either. “No more hide and seek. I say we have a snack instead. What do you say?”

“Yes please!”

Lucy smiled.

#littletail #request #caregiver!lucy #little!wendy #sfw agere

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redrook · 1 year ago

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yeah I went to a gay bar recently with my husband tumblr user beemovieerotica, and a VERY confused capital S Southerner straight man in cargo shorts and a trucker hat showed up

apparently he (who through my drunken memory I remember only as Earl) liked some woman, and she told him that he wasn't cultured enough and needed to attend his first drag show (she also flaked on him)

Now I'm reasonably androgynous and was wearing makeup, a short leather skirt, and black heeled boots, but still when this guy came up to me when I was standing off alone and asked "So. Do you come here often?" with a very earnest expression, I thought. Surely not. This guy doesn't think I'm a straight woman does he????

Anyway I start talking with this guy and he has no idea what the fuck is going on but he is just a very kind and earnest dude and asked a lot of questions (while asking if it was alright if he asked those questions). I track down my husband and friends and I'm like y'all. We need to make sure that Earl has a Good Fucking Time tonight.

Man was completely out of his depth. At one point they put on a puppy auction to raise money for Pride, that started with a 6 ft drag queen in all her glory leading a leather pup out on a leash to the tune of that damned RSPCA "in the arms of the angels" song

We look at Earl. Nervous. He squints, laughs, and then goes "I was wondering why people were dressed like that!" He turned to me and asked "So they're like dogs?" And I said yeah pretty much. And he just chuckled and went "Yeah I thought so with the tails! Never seen this before!"

When the first drag king came out, Earl looked at me wide eyed and went "There's a dude version too?!" And I said yeah they're called drag kings. And he said, low, "Drag kings."

During one of the queens performances, he frowned, shook his head and told me, "Your legs are better than hers." in a tone that implied he thought there was some travesty taking place and I should also be getting paid

When he found out I was there with my husband (and that I am not a woman) he profusely apologized and said "I'm so sorry, it's dark in here and I thought you were a hot chick! I wouldn't have said nothing if I knew you had a husband, I'm so sorry about that."

When beemovie invited me to the dance floor with him later and I still had a drink in my hand, Earl said "Oh don't worry about that I can hold your drink, you get on out there and shake your ass with your husband!" Then before we left, Earl bought me drinks for "Putting up with me all night and answering everything. Y'all helped me have a great time tonight."

like. You gotta recognize there's going to people who have never had interacted outside of their of their own community. This includes you. And just because your community is familiar with all the right vocabulary and how to correctly say something, it doesn't mean they're actually going to support you. If someone like Earl shows up, confused and out of their depth but kind and curious and earnest, you gotta have patience and truck through the small things, so when he goes back to his friends and his coworkers and they snicker asking how the drag show was, he can genuinely talk about how included we tried to make him feel and that he had a great time

The person matters more than the language

"The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I'm not a trannie or a fag so I don't care, just give 'em the medicine they need."

"This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility."

One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.

#trans #my husband beemovieerotica

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flightofaqrow · 2 years ago

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costumes

qrow + Summer Rose ( @scatterose )

“i don’t like the look of this.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh come on, Qrow! Tomorrow’s Halloween! I got us team matching costumes!”

“Here’s yours! You’re the scarecrow and I’ll be be the farm girl with the ruby slippers. You think Raven would wear these lion ears?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

yep. yep. that was the look of Summer Rose with a team building exercise.

although, as she reveals what she’d been hiding behind her back, he’s gotta say, it isn’t the worst thing he anticipated.

Halloween.

oddly enough, not something the tribe celebrated, but they had close approximations for the season - fancy dress and nightfall rituals. nothing with the - what was the phrase - pop culture costumes like this.

he’s actually kind of excited. treats, bonfires, and dressing up like fankids of certain things?? count him in! nerd. (although, he really wanted to be a reaper man. guess that didn’t fit into a team theme as much. he can’t say he minds that thought either.)

long fingers accept the patched up burlap thing Summer hoists at him, and he twists it around a few times, huffing in spite of both of them. scare-qrow. har har.

it did feel very harvest festival, though. familiar. appropriate.

the scarecrow with a scythe out in the field protecting the farmgirl. “yeah, alright,” he grins and drapes the garment over the edge of his bed, “not the biggest fan’a th’t hat though.”

Summer holds up the ears next. cute. he tries to picture it. he scrunches his lips into a tilt, thinking they might get buried in Raven’s mane of hair, “mebbe. probl’y look better on Tai, though, dontcha think?”

he barges in next to her, complete disregard for personal space, rummaging around now. “wha’s th’ fourth one?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Woah! Woah! Woah! He’s way to close!

Summer’s face warms from the sudden intrusion of her personal space and she leans away from him, trying not to draw attention to her obvious discomfort. Qrow towers in size over someone like Summer and has no idea how intimidating his height can be. In fact, Raven and Qrow can be quite odd sometimes, both lacking in social cues and social interactions. Summer and Tai have begun to notice.

It can get confusing with the twins. They don’t like anyone to touch them. but they sure do invade Summer’s and Tai’s personal space a lot, not knowing that intimacy can be embarrassing. Perhaps, it’s a sign of trust? Nobody gets this close without an arm being twisted.

“Ah! Maybe you’re right! The yellow lion ears should go to Tai!” Summer moves away to look through another party bag. For now, she lets it go and moves on with other costumes she bought.

“I have a witch’s hat! I think the wicked witch might suit Raven better, don’t you think?” Summer giggles as she shows the hat to Qrow. “Oh! I even have dog ears! Do you want to be my Toto instead?”

Summer takes out the grey dog ears and fake tail.

“Here, put them on! Let’s see!” Summer laughs.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(a sign of trust, indeed. qrow would not show his back to just anyone around here. especially not without Raven in the room to protect it. he must believe, even if subconsciously, that Summer would too. and maybe that’s why his arm remains untwisted. he appreciates it, unknowingly.)

qrow’s guard drops enough in this moment to let Summer’s excitement continue to infect him. he snickers, deep and genuine, “y’know i was about t’say she’d make a better wicked witch.” but he didn’t know if that was part of the set, “she’s always liked stuff with skirts, too.” freedom of movement if she’d have to fight. hadn’t Summer also said something like that at some point? after having worn one he kinda gets it.

Toto - some sort of canine apparently? qrow doesn’t like the sound of as much. he can already hear the command in her voice, ah, and there it is, sounded as she stuffs the next set of accessories in his direction.

still, this all remains in the dorm, not like he’s agreeing to wear the things out in public. her laughter continues to bleed into his own lightening voice.

“alright, alright…” he settles the ears onto his head with a ruffle of his hair, and the tail at the end of his spine with a shake of his hips. he found himself wishing that if he had to have a tail, that it were longer than this little wiry stub. he doesn’t dare voice that to Summer, or that’s probably exactly what he’d be getting for the winter holidays.

(curious, too, for him to consider a future with someone still around and still caring enough to get him gifts).

qrow stands ready for Summer’s appraisal with his arms out.

“i can’t b’lieve this,” he mutters. he’s still laughing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Honestly, Summer didn’t think Qrow would take a liking to the dog ears and tail and to her surprise, he puts them on without complaint and Summer’s mouth drops open.

“Oh my Brothers!” Summer gushes and she covers her mouth with her hands.

“You look so cute, Qrow!”

The black ears blend almost naturally into his dark hair and Summer laughs bubbly, not at him, never at him, but she laughs joyously at how Qrow is finally opening up and behaving more friendly.

“Here, hold your hands up like this so it looks like little paws! Awwwwwwww!”

Summer laughs out as she holds her stomach, almost wheezing and running out of breath.

“We should change your name to canine, but spell it with a K!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he sees it this time. cute she calls him. but not as cute as Summer with blooming cheeks and a laugh like she hasn’t seen and done the things qrow has at late 17. someone calling him cute in the tribe would surely be condescending, but he doesn’t get that from her. she’s just happy.

he doesn’t think about it too hard. only continues to chuckle warmly and let her guide him, paw-hands and all. he’s already wearing a ridiculous costume. might as well go full rag-doll.

“pfft,” he laugh-scoffs. “but Kanine doesn’ sound cool.” scare-qrow he can run with, but qrow’s not a dog. so says his brain, even with ears covering it.

he gives her one last good look once she recovers from her giggle fit, but he fully plans on changing back into the scarecrow if anything at all.

those laughing eyes suddenly become sharp, “this doesn’t leave th’room y’know.”

#* her round wiles fluff his rigid edges = scatterose *#* her sentences were icebergs / the tip from her mouth / the rest kept in her head = qrow + summer *#* we got work to do = ic *#* i gave you my life = past *#* how do you think legends and fairy tales get started? = thread archive *#in which ray and kay live their best lives #nothing to see here ( ´ 艸｀)

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megistusdiary · 2 years ago

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What about demon tartaglia and angel reader?... o.o

yooo this goes hard, i hope you like this. also i suddenly got quite a few tartaglia asks, and i think that's silly.

sorry this is a bit short, i want to try to get through at least one ask a day so i write more consistently :)

warnings: dom demon!tartaglia and sub angel!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

demon/angel au, office sex, dirty talk, penetration (sub receiving), petnames, he touches your neck once, mentions of exhibitionism/voyeurism

tartaglia's form leaned over yours, staring down at you with those wide, empty eyes, leaving you breathless.

your top was unbuttoned, skirt pushed up your thighs indecently as you braced your hands on his chest.

his tail slowly slid up your leg, coiling around the limb as his fangs poked into his lower lip. "tartaglia, i-i don't know about this. someone might catch us, and i'll be in serious trouble..." you voiced your concerns.

"aw, angel. trust me when i say nobody's coming in. unlike when i take my damned visits up to heaven, i promise you, people know their place outside my office. nobody's coming in without my explicit permission."

"what about your boss." you deadpanned.

tartaglia broke from the moment, seemingly beat as he sent a cheeky grin down to you, pinching your cheek. "well, then we had better put on a very good show for her so she doesn't report us, hm?"

you felt your wings fluttering behind you with sheer delight, a shiver running down your spine. your cheeks heated up as tartaglia smirked wildly, pulling your panties down your thighs and spreading your legs.

he pulled his own pants down just far enough to pull his dick out. you averted your eyes, feeling embarrassed before tartaglia guided your chin back to look down at him as he rubbed the tip across your pussy.

he let it circle over your clit just to feel you squirm a little beneath him, delighting in your almost inaudible whimpers of his name.

"oh, shit-" he groaned when he finally pushed in, feeling you suck him in as your nails dug into his shoulders. your back arched up into him as he slowly slid into you, clenching down as he gasped. "fuck, sweetheart, you gotta relax." he moved his thumbs to rub soothing circles into your hips.

you tried your best to ease up around him, though he made it difficult as he panted into the crook of your neck, sending his low grunts and curses into your ears. "oh, archons-" you sobbed, feeling tartaglia wrap a hand around your throat loosely.

"hey," he caught your attention, forcing you to stare up at him. "are your precious archons here? last time i checked, they're not the ones fucking you, are they? but you still call out their names." he let out a tsk, a hand sliding down to toy with your clit. "let's try that again, yeah? cry out for me."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin childe #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #tartagalia genshin impact #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚#💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#halloween smut

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luxeavenger · 3 years ago

Text

You Really Wanna Do This Now?

Day 28 Kinktober prompt: Thigh riding

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Words: 1652

Warnings: Thigh riding, frottage, semi-public sex, mob AU, mob boss Steve Rogers

If you like it, please give it a reblog! It helps others find it too!

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

“You really wanna do this now?” Steve eyes you critically, clearly cautioning you that you should not, in fact, do this now.

Your six-foot five-inch mob-boss boyfriend scares the ever-loving shit out of most of the people he meets. You were not one of those people. Sure, you loved him dearly, and would do anything Steve asked of you, but you both have a stubborn streak a mile wide.

“Yes I do, dammit. I don’t need a fucking escort to the mall. I don’t need a babysitter Steve!” You glower at him, “I just want to go buy a sweater to wear to dinner tonight for fuck’s sake!”

He steps closer to you, and lowers his voice, “I’d like to think I don’t have to remind you what happened to Bucky’s girl last month. How she was followed home from the grocery store. How she was shot at. How she was nearly shot. How she had to move out of the house her grandmother left her because every rival of ours for hundreds of miles in any direction knows about it—and her—after the shooting. How she didn’t want to take even one fucking man with her to buy fucking laundry detergent. A man who’s trained to recognize a tail, and could’ve picked out the son of a bitch following her and dealt with him long before it became an issue. I’d like to think I don’t have to remind you that Bucky could have lost her, and that it almost killed him to think of her being injured, much less dead.”

Ugh. Yeah. He was right. You deflate. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll take someone.”

“No. I don’t think so,” he scoffs. “I’ve got a meeting shortly, but I’m free after that, so I’ll go with you to get your sweater. But first-”

He takes your hand and leads you over to the big chair in the backroom of Bucky’s bar. He sits, and pats his lap. You plop down in it and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, doll. I just worry about you. You know that. I’m not trying to be an asshole, or treat you like anything other than the fierce, capable, intelligent woman I fell in love with. I just want to keep you safe. What happened with Bucky’s girl scared the shit out of me, because it could have easily been you. You’re so damn hard headed about taking one of my men with you when I’m not available.”

“I know, Steve. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I just hate feeling like I’m being handed off to a babysitter.”

“I understand that. Maybe I can start sending Sam with you? He’s good at what he does, but he’s friendlier than some of my other guys. He’ll actually talk to you instead of just lurking. Would that make you feel better?”

You put your head in the crook of his neck and nod, “It would. He’s sweet, I like Sam.”

“That’s good. I’m glad we settled that.” You try to stand, but he holds you in place. “We’re not done here.”

“What else is there? Isn’t your meeting starting soon?”

“It is,” he nods. “Take your panties off.”

“But your-”

“Did I ask?” He’s using his don’t-fuck-with-me voice now, and you know if you don’t drop those panties fast, whateve he’s got in store for you now will just get worse the more you argue or stall, and he’d end up bending you over the bar during happy hour, and spanking you in front of everyone.

So you scrabble out of his lap to wiggle out of your panties.

“Good girl,” he purrs, slipping a hand up your skirt to slide his fingers through your folds. “Oh doll, you’re so fucking wet right now.” He slips two fingers inside you and groans at the feel of you clenching around his digits.

You whine when he takes his fingers back.

“Not now, doll.” He pats his leg, “Sit.”

You try to sit in his lap again, but he steers you over his thigh. He pushes you down and flexes the thick muscle. “Steve!” you gasp and grab onto his shoulders.

He smirks at you, “Aww. Now where on earth did all that sass go?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, “No? Nothing? Well that’s so nice. I wonder what took its place?” He bounces his thigh and you groan, “Ooohhh, that’s right! I replaced little Miss Sassypants with a horny girl and her dripping cunt. You’ve already soaked through my slacks, doll.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

He kisses the tip of your nose, “Don’t be sorry. I love my horny girl. And I love the mess her soaking wet pussy makes.” He flexes his thigh and you whine. “Feel good, doll?” He chuckles when you nod. “Ride it then,” his voice drops an octave, and heat licks though your stomach.

You roll your hips with a soft sigh, and grab Steve’s shoulders to steady yourself. His hands fall to your hips with a quiet, good girl.

“Boss?” Clint’s voice comes from the doorway behind you, and your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Give me two minutes, then send them in.”

Steve leans up to remove his jacket, and throws it over your shoulders, protecting a little of your modesty, and cocooning you in his heat and the comforting smell of his cologne. You grab onto his leather shoulder holster to steady yourself. Someone sits in one of the chairs, and you try to turn around to see who it is, but Steve grabs your face, “You don’t need to concern yourself with anything except riding this thigh right here,” he bounces you on his leg and you yelp. “Got it?”

“Yes, Steve.”

“Good girl.”

“What’d she do this time?” Bucky asks with a chuckle.

“Tryin’ to pull the same shit your old lady pulled last month,” Steve explains.

Steve’s right-hand man goes quiet, thinking of nothing but how scared he was at seeing the fear on his girl’s face when he finally got to her after the shooting.

“Sweetheart, you know he’s right. Trust me when I say that’s not something you want to put Steve through. He’ll burn this fucking city to the ground and salt the ashes if anything happens to you.”

You look at Steve, and his face is carved from stone, but you can read the truth of what Bucky said in the deep blue pools of his eyes. A soft sorrow is written there, brought on by the mere thought of harm ever coming to you.

You throw your arms around his neck, “I’m sorry, Steve.”

He noses in your hair, “I know, doll. It’s okay.” He pats your ass, “Someone’s not listening.”

“Oh, right,” you giggle.

The door to the Bucky’s office clicks open, and Steve whispers “Don’t you dare stop.”

You hide your face in his neck, and continue to circle your hips and grind down onto his leg. The textured gabardine of his slacks rub against you in the sweetest way. A shudder rolls up your body and you moan.

“That’s it, doll. Let me hear how good it feels.” You nod into his neck.

A man with a mousy voice addresses Steve, “Uhh, Mr. Rogers, sir, is… is she going to be here... doing… that the whole time?”

“Bucky, would you please toss Mr. Holiday out on his ass, with a gentle reminder to not concern himself with other people’s business in the future? Even though he’s no longer our problem. Make it very clear to him that he’s not welcome in my fucking city anymore.”

There are sounds of a struggle as Bucky hauls the man out of his chair and drags him out of the room.

Steve’s voice is low and dangerous, “If you pricks have any other questions about shit that doesn’t concern you, go ahead and ask them now, so I can cut the tongue out of your mouth before Bucky gets back. He hates when I make a mess on his floors.”

His tone gets you even wetter, and you groan into the crook of his neck. You can feel the chuckle rumble through his chest. He slides hand inside the shelter of the jacket draped over you, and slips it up your thigh. He stops just short of anywhere he’d do any good and you whimper.

You wiggle your hips side to side to get as much contact with his thigh as you can, and start dragging your cunt over him faster. He’s talking calmly about territory disputes, and new up and comers from their rivals who are trying to make a name for themselves by picking off Steve and Bucky’s men.

He’s talking calmly, while you’re sitting here fucking yourself over his thigh in a room full of his associates, feeling like you’re going to burst into flames.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp. Steve flexes his thick thigh muscle. “Oh, fuck. Again.” His muscle ripples languidly, and you squeeze this shoulder holster straps until the leather creaks. His hand on your thigh starts pushing and pulling you over him faster. You’re huffing humid breaths into the crook of his neck, and trying not to be too loud.

“Come on, doll,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Know you’re ready to come for me.” You nod against his shoulder. “Then do it.”

Your body snaps taut like a bowstring, you only keep moving over his leg because he’s using his hand to rock you against his thigh. You bite your lip to keep yourself from getting loud, but you can’t help the little breathy whimpers that trickle out of you when your cunt gushes over his expensive gabardine slacks.

His thumb traces circles over your thigh when he whispers, “Good girl. Now keep going until we’re done here, and I’ll fuck you over Bucky’s desk before I take you shopping.”

If you liked it, please smash that reblog button so others can find it too!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #mob boss!steve rogers x reader #mob boss!steve rogers x you #mob boss!steve rogers x female!reader #mob boss!steve rogers #mob boss!steve rogers smut #mob au #kinktober 2021 #kinktober prompt #thigh riding

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theveryworstthing · 4 years ago

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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