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fortressofserenity · 7 months ago

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Goth as Goth does

When it comes to Goth characters, as I have noticed before, there’s a tendency to make them either brooding or morose but also not listen to any real Goth music (as what Kai Decadence pointed out) that it’s likely their tie to Goth culture is incredibly superficial to begin with. That’s not to say Goths can’t be serious or into spooky things but if somebody can be clinically depressed without being into Goth, then somebody can be into anything spooky without being Goth themselves but that would mean Goth is its own thing. That’s something outsiders don’t immediately get about it, well anything they’re not apart of when you think about it.

Take Damien Bloodmarch from Dream Daddy, he seems Goth but since he never seems that deeply tied to Goth culture that if you were to make him big into anything 1950s and have him dress in 1950s clothes he wouldn’t change much because it’s this superficial. It’s so superficial that if he was big into anything 1950s he wouldn’t change at all fundamentally speaking, so he’s another one of those quasi-Goth characters out there in fiction. Then we get to the para-Goth characters, the characters who could be Goth but are fundamentally into something else altogether. Kai Decadence has noted this where the characters who could be Goth turn out to listen to something else altogether.

It’s like the thing with Kylie from Ghostbusters, for those who do remember her at all, it’s like she’s Goth because she’s into something spooky but listens to a non-Goth band like Nine Inch Nails. She’s pretty much a para-Goth because she could have been Goth, but turns out to be into something else musically speaking. Not to mention as I said before there’s an annoying tendency to put Goth characters into anything spooky, even if somebody could like horror films without being Goth themselves. But that’s to realise that Goth is pretty much its own thing, it’s something else altogether that outsiders would easily overlook.

I guess it’s got to do with first impressions regarding how strange Goths look to others, but there are horror fans who look and dress normally and actually enjoy anything macabre. Conversely speaking, not all Goths are that big into horror themselves. Somebody could be into Goth bands but have no real interest in horror whatsoever, somebody can be into horror media a lot but no real interest in Goth music. Horror fandom and the Goth scene are very different things when looked at with closer inspection, since somebody who enjoys HP Lovecraft isn’t necessarily a fan of Siouxsie and the Banshees.

I know because there’s somebody in my life who was into this but not a fan of Goth music themselves, I listen to Goth music but have no deep interest into anything Lovecraftian so to speak. So they don’t always overlap for other people, speaking from personal experience. So is having depression where somebody could be depressed, but not be part of the Goth subculture themselves. Again I’m speaking from personal experience where the two relatives of mine who are clinically depressed don’t listen to Goth music, one of them’s more into pop and indie music. Actually it’s kind of complicated.

This other relative didn’t seem to trust Goths at first because she thought they’re suicidal until she ended up developing depression herself, despite not listening to Goth music and dressing in black that she kind of ended up like them in an ironic way. Or at least her own impression of them, Chester Bennington struggled with depression but he had no real tie to the Goth scene whatsoever. So we’re dealing with a lot of things that get caught up in popular impressions of Gothdom, regardless of these factors existing independently of one’s involvement in the Goth subculture. So Goth is something else.

I feel a lot of Goth characters are written the way they are is due to people’s first impressions of Goth, not so much having the lived experience of being Goth but the latter makes it easier to tell what’s Goth and what isn’t. If somebody could have crippling depression without being Goth themselves, then somebody could dress in black without being Goth themselves as well. It’s like that with Orthodox priests, monks and nuns where they habitually dress in black but listen to Christian music a lot. So what makes something Goth is far more specific than most people care to realise, especially if they’re outsiders.

This is why a lot of Goth characters are written the way they are in fiction, always outsiders’ impressions of Goth but not so much being Goth themselves. Somebody who’s an insider would often get things right, because they have the lived experience of being one. This is what separates the Goths from the poseurs, only a Goth would tell that something really isn’t Goth. That’s not being elitist in any way, that’s telling the truth. Just as an actual redhead would tell said character could be a real redhead, an actual Goth has a way of knowing whether if a character is Goth or not. Things outsiders will never get, because they never experienced it in any way.

Now that’s something to consider.

#gothgoth #goth #goth subculture #extreme ghostbusters #dream daddy #personal #mental health #depression

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peppers-lament · 2 years ago

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You ever just.. see an aesthetic that screams out who you think you are? How you want to be perceived versus how you're able to pull it off is two completely different things. Maybe they were things you loved in a past life, and your soul loved it so much, that it remembered it in the next life so vividly, it's become your personality. I love so many different aesthetics, veiw points, places, things, I'm thinking I'm either multiple souls, or my soul is just so ancient, older than I can comprehend, with memories and emotions I'm not able to properly communicate, that I can't decide on just one part of me.

I love cottagecore, with frilly silky dresses and soft fuzzy cats in a decked out kitchen, covered in flowers being preserved for weaving into bonnets. How hard it was back then to need a single pail over water, and finding it with the cow eating feed lazily out of it. How as delicate as one looked, they were a lot stronger than they seemed. How they made so many tasteful meals for friends that came by, broke bread and laughed and drank wine with one another.

I love witch craft, collecting bones, coins, and trinkets from people or animals who passed on to perform spells and potions, with a loud ass cat that just screams in its chime like voice, dressing in layers and layers of dark purples and greens and blacks, covering myself head to toe in jewelry because each gem provides me with protections and keeps hurtful things away from my mind and spirit.

I love grunge core, being able to make things that don't quite add up into your own style, taking what you can from your parents or older siblings closet, despite it being too big or too small for you, you make it work into your daily outfits, wearing worn shoes that are just as old as your dad's sweater vest, a pearl necklace your grandma had in college, your mom's old pair of pants that ripped so many times you repaired with patches and stitching. Wearing simple gold earrings that was found in the thrift store that were so simple and sweet you fell in love with the fact it was just one dollar.

I love punk or goth core, wearing complete black, punk style being ripped shirts and pants and big and loud shoes with even louder, more dramatic hair. Goth style being a love for death and all things beautiful about how life is unfair yet just, having mushrooms added with skulls and roses. Safety pins serve no purpose other than extra bling and aesthetic, along with the spikes that aren't sharp around your neck or wrists, more serving as a warning to strangers that you aren't one to be approached or messed with. How often times punks hands are scabed over, from too many fights, and how blood is almost always never able to be washed completely off with the chipped black nail polish.

I love the simplicity of dark academia, raining or foggy days, clouded with tension or perspective. A dark green or brown book bag, literally straining at the clasp of the bag being so full of books, notebooks, a laptop, binders, and pencil bag. The trench coats, brown and off gray pallette board that all the clothes have are so bland and boring, yet are comfortable to sit in a desk for hours just reading, absorbing. How smart one is academically, yet knows nothing of street smarts of how the world actually ignores the regular flow of life and society, everything not being able to be recorded for a single person to just read.

Maybe at some point I was all of these things, I hope to be my own aesthetic for my next soul to carry over, and remember and yearn just as much as mine does now.

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strawberryteabunny · 1 year ago

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While I think this is an interesting post, I do disagree that certain dresses could “never” be gothic; I think that whether a coordinate is gothic or not depends on the styling as much as on the dress itself. The wording on whether pink dresses (and presumably this applies to pastels as a whole) can be gothic or not is confusing too as it’s not about color or styling but rather how brands refer to themselves… but this contradicts the earlier statement that gothic isn’t about whether people call it gothic but about the exact cut, details, trim, print, etc. of the dress. (But maybe I’m just not reading this correctly!)

I definitely think there’s a difference between ‘black/dark colors’ and ‘gothic’ but I don’t think it’s the clear-cut ‘AP can never be gothic’ that OP implies either. To me personally it’s about the styling of the whole coord rather than just the dress on its own;

For example, here’s a couple stylings of Holy Lantern (by laceferatu, lunaeri_neko, and spiro_j). In my opinion the first two are more goth and the latter two are much more sweet (with spiro_j’s coord definitely being sweet). Makeup, hair, and accessories do a lot to change a coord from sweet to gothic to classic, such as black lipstick and a more ‘mature’ updo or a romantic layered overskirt v pigtails and bunny ears.

Generally I do agree with OP’s thoughts on prints; I think it’s much easier to tell apart sweet v gothic prints than solid colored dresses.

(though, for example, I’d say this is a gothic teddy bear print- the photorealism v a more ‘kawaii’ art style that brands like AP tend to use, plus the greyscale making it look like an antique photograph and the dolls make it ‘gothic’ to me rather than ‘sweet’).

Overall I think lolita substyles tend to blur a lot at the margins, and part of the fun of lolita is finding ways of styling things in different ways and not necessarily having to stick to rigid ‘if it’s AP or Baby it has to be sweet’ rules. It’s also what I enjoy about oldschool lolita, how much it crosses over with all three main substyles and is also its own substyle at the same time.

I think too there’s an element of perspective; to someone who does super sweet lolita maybe none of those coords come off as ‘sweet’ at all, and a black dress has to have a very sweet print to be sweet lolita. I think the more you wear and pay attention to a certain substyle the more you can pick out little details that define it, and the stricter you can be sometimes on what does or doesn’t fit (I’ve definitely seen people say that dresses without prints aren’t ‘truly’ sweet lolita but either classic or oldschool and I don’t agree with that either).

What makes Gothic Lolita ~Gothic~

This topic may be obvious to some people, but in my conversations with newer people I find that often I have to break down the difference of what is gothic lolita, and what is just a lolita dress in black. This can be tricky to explain as gothic lolita can be a lot of things, but there are certain looks and styles that are common within the style across brands that make the gothic part of lolita…

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#this is just my personal opinion!!#op you clearly did a lot of research and it was a very interesting read! I’m just adding my own personal thoughts on the subject #and oldschool ofc is a strange substyle name anyway because ofc at the time it was everywhere people didn’t call it that #it was just lolita/gothic lolita and what was trendy at the time #and there’s debate as to whether something has to have been made before a certain year to truly be oldschool but that’s a whole other thing #lolita fashion #mine #mine as in adding my text/thoughts I am not the op and those are not my photos

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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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suicidesiren · 2 years ago

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Here’s my opinion on the coquette discourse. I hate making these big long posts about superficial things but here we go

Literally almost every subculture has at least one subcategory that is a different variation of the subculture. So i’m just confused on why coquette is supposed to be this one faceted subculture? (and there are subcategories of coquette/nymphette, check wattpad guides.) And yes, there IS a classic coquette/nymphette look, but that doesn’t mean that new substyles can’t evolve. Idk if y’all were ever emo but older subcultures hated us because it was new and “fake”. I also just want to add that i dress like the stereotypical coquette/nymphet lol. Not that it matters really but it’s out there for reference so

Yeah there is a CLEAR difference in goth and coquette for example. No one is saying that a completely different aesthetic is something else but you can incorporate BOTH together, (and that’s just one, this could apply to almost any aesthetic) and that’s what i think folks are speaking on when they say anyone can be coquette because again it is more than the clothes you wear, there’s music, movies, books, attitude, of course community, etc that bring people together.

For example there’s literally so many goths who just wear a black tee and jeans everyday, are you gonna say they aren’t goth because they don’t have eyeliner up to their brows and arent dressed like they’re from the victorian era? because we are more than what the surface shows

So yeah, I do think it’s weird its now a thing to try and gatekeep coquette from evolving and new substyles from emerging because it happens with a lot of subcultures/aesthetics so just get over it is really all i can say. just think of the times when older alternative communities were collectively hating emos lol. that’s what this is to me. but the thing is it doesn’t matter. (to me at least) who cares if someone wants to be clown coquette, grunge coquette, goth coquette, or whatever. if it’s not hurting anyone who cares.

And me personally, I’m not in my pink bows all the time either, sometimes i dress to match my emo subculture as well but that doesn’t mean i’m not coquette, same thing as if i’m in my coquette clothes, it doesn’t mean i’m not emo. And if i wanna mix the two oh honey I WILL.

#coquette #lana del rey #american lolita #dollette #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #lana del ray #lizzy grant

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ch3rry3lossom · 3 years ago

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*¨*•▼ Happy Halloween ▼*¨*•

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♡ Characters - Hinata shoyo, Kageyama Tobio, and Kenma Kozume

♡ Warnings - None! Unless you're triggered by these characters

♡ Summary - haikyuu boys and what they would do/wear on Halloween! [Contains fluff]

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- Hinata shoyo ☆ﾟ

Hinata (in my opinion) would most definitely dress up as a wolf/dog for Halloween

Idk why but in my opinion, I can just see hinata being a dog person and finding wolfs so cool

Hinata would pounce on you and lick your face jokingly while saying good morning all excited

I can see him pouting or whining If you don't give him the attention he wants or give him some compliments on his costume

Hinata would either want to go out for trick or treating or stay inside the house and watch a scary movie while decorating the house with Halloween decorations or cuddling

Please pet his hair and say how good of a boyfriend he is, he will be so happy

Very affectionate and will cling onto you the whole day

Tries to act tough when seeing a scary movie with you but always ends up holding on to you tightly

Will nuzzle onto you and give you little kisses

Will try to act like a wolf and try scaring you as a joke (he gets scared instead 😃)

Would want to try out all sorts of different types of Halloween candies with you <3

Would most definitely try phone calling the team and try scaring them as a joke

Will give you wet smooches as a joke but actually ends up liking it

I'm sorry but hinata would be so cute on Halloween and look like a little puppy 😭

He will follow you around the house and just wait until you're done with whatever you're doing to cuddle with you again

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- Kageyama Tobio ☆ﾟ

I saw some fan art of kageyama, of him being a vampire/goth for Halloween and its been stuck in my head

He will definitely (in my opinion) be a vampire for Halloween - he would also wear black lipstick, black eyeliner, and eyeshadow

He would probably nudge you a bit to wake you up since at the moment he would be feeling a bit shy and awkward

Really hopes you like his costume and makeup hehe

Please please let him know how good he looks and call him a pretty boy because he will immediately get red and embarrassed (would really like it tho)

Please give him smooches he would really like that

After some time he will probably start slowly but surely giving you small kisses <3

Really hopes you don't mind the black lipstick because I can just see him liking the black lip marks he leaves you on your face hehe

Will at some point kiss your neck and softly bite it as a joke (secretly likes it tho)

Would mostly likely prefer staying at home and cuddling while watching a scary movie

Idk why but I feel like he would just immediately melt at your touch and compliments

I can see kageyama secretly really liking compliments (especially if they come from you)

Would hold you really close to his body (idk why but I feel like kageyama really likes physical touch in a way?)

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- kenma kozume ☆ﾟ

Kenma (even tho he doesn't like to admit it) would wear a cat costume 😃

He dressed up as a cat not only because he can relate to them but (maybe because he also knew it would make you happy hehe)

Would say good morning to you while looking away (he would probably be feeling shy or just over all doesn't want you seeing his face at the time)

Sooner or later tho he will start giving you small kisses and hugs <3

Please please play with his hair or pet it (he will nudge into your touch even tho he dosent realize he does) he actually really likes the feeling of your hands on his hair

Idk why but I feel like he would mistankly purr but only because he's really liking your touch at the moment

Would prefer staying at home and playing horror games while cuddling with you

If you're scared of the horror games and hold onto him due to fear he will act like he's annoyed a bit but actually really likes it and hopes you get scared more so you can keep holding onto him

Please give him a small compliment, he would actually really appreciate it (don't go overboard tho or else he will start feeling really shy again)

If you sit in front of him while he's playing games he will breathe in the scent of your hair (idk why I can see him doing that, I feel like it just calms him down in a way?)

Would also really like to sleep in with you in the dark with candles lit up and Halloween themed lights around yalls room

If y'all do sleep in, he will feel so at peace and just really happy <3 even tho he dosent show or say it a lot, he really does love your touch and really likes moments like these where y'all are in yalls own little world and just appreciating each others presence <3

✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*。✧*

And that's about it! Sorry if this was a bit short but over all I hope y'all like these little Halloween canons! <3

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aster-riskite · 2 years ago

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I'm about to make good on an old ass promise.

Let's fucking go ✨

few rules before we get into this:

- Look up roller derby positions if you're confused, I promise it's not that hard to understand

- Consider this an au where the nations get put in a roller derby team... for some reason.

- I'm bad at coming up with roller derby names. Excuse the bad names. And get on with it.

- Nyotalia because roller derby is such a violently feminine thing

- am only gonna do the main group i consider immediately relevant for now but i'll add on later lmao.

America, AKA, Fried Freedom Fighter

Wanted to name herself something funny and this was the best she could come up with LMAO.

Based on the violently American concept of a fried oreo. but oreos wouldn't cut it. thus, this. Also, star themed attire no matter what.

Often plays the Pivot blocker. She will get penalized if he jams, so star passes are hell.

Canada, AKA Maple Skates

She was given this name by her teammates for sure.

She gets competitive as FUCK and will get penalized a shit ton, but she always thanks the people at the time out box for their hard work. She somehow always wears flannel.

Mostly a blocker, but will jam to get some shakes out. The shakes are real.

France, AKA Eiffel Power

Chose the name herself because she thought it sounded cool without leaning too far out of classy. Wears elegant ish things and elaborate makeup.

Lord, help you if you're trying to understand what she's saying during a jam. terrible communicator. on the other hand, she always lands apex jumps! gracefully at that

will not pass the star. just no. shes keeping that silly hat.

England, AKA Alice in Wounderland

It was either this name or Mary Choppins, and France told her that this was the more classy option. Not that class matters of course.

She puts her hair in braids and dyes them SO MANY COLORS its amazing i wish i could draw what my mind's eye says. very spiky and punk in style (well, not spiky, that could make gear penalties happen. studdy?)

Brace blocker, and she has trouble breathing when things get too crowded, but it's okay. she knows the team has her back :). (don't tell her i said that)

China, AKA Chi Blocker

In spite of this name, she is not often a blocker. lil zippy girl jams! /pos... but if she blocks, she does well enough

Joins England in the braids with colors club for a while, but she does red and gold. Also, she loves doing makeup with France.

fucking NYOOMS, even during downtime. She loves being active. Though she also complains about cramps the most. Hmm...

Russia, AKA Black Swan

She ABSOLUTELY was referencing the Black Swan in swan lake. dresses accordingly too. Goth girlie.

Out of everyone, she gets the most penalties. Usually forearms. Or high blocks (hitting people in the face). She's also known for having the only egregious penalty of the team, but denies that it ever happened.

Aside from that, she's an amazing player. In a vaguely friendly rivalry with FFF (America). also, she puts her hair in a low bun, and spends most of her time on her toe stops like they're pointe shoes.

N. Italy AKA Hasta La Pasta

COULD NOT resist the temptation. got the name idea from America. took it and ran.

Also in the braids club, but under the advice of Germany, only wears one so nothing bad happens. Other than that she wears a lot of fun color combinations. looks like a rainbow on wheels.

This poor girl cannot block for the life of her. well, she can, but she'll usually fall. Somehow, this ends up getting the other team penalties, so it's all good but she feels bad. besides that she's pretty fast.

Japan, AKA Killer Katana

Yet another victim of America's name choosing. She likes it though, it sounds fun.

Dresses plainly, but Italy can and will put her in fun makeup. There will be no lack of eyestrain.

In spite of her stature, she makes a good blocker. Known for her sprinting skills and offensive ability too. Can and will murder you (but also can and will apologize for it).

Germany, AKA Eisen Maiden

Was ALMOST a victim of America's names, but got the suggestion 'iron maiden' from England. Took it, made it her own, bam. Why is this her name? well, ask the ridiculous amounts of protective gear. She looks like she's dressed in armor.

Self-Proclaimed captain and rules lawyer. The only skater on the team to debate with a referee to date. That's a story for my ao3 drafts though!

Specializes in blocking, but is pretty well rounded. Makes sure everyone else is too. She usually leads warmups.

S. Italy AKA TomaTerror

How could she not reference tomatoes with Romano having a whole character song dedicated to the damn things? It's a reference to her face getting red in universe but come on.

Does not put up her hair. Dresses in bright colors, but like. menacingly.

She's almost as bad as her sister, but god damn it, if you piss her off you will forget what it feels like to have untorn hamstrings. Terrifying jammer, can't block for shit.

Prussia AKA RollerPaladin

She got the name from being assigned the archetype in everything possible. Just stuck roller on the front and made it so.

Joins England in the punk skater girl thing, but does not braid her hair. no, she puts it in a ponytail.

Blocker because when she tries to jam, she ends up falling on her ass and when she tries to pivot, she ends up getting the star pass (every damn time) and falling on her ass.

So who wants to see my interpretation of putting hetalia characters in roller derby

#hetalia #hetalia2023 #hetalia thoughts #hetalia roller derby #yeah its fun #bonus for the ones who read tags: i will do more of these soon. just ask and i shall provide.#nyotalia

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hauntedfalcon · 3 years ago

Text

living in midnight

for day four of Nile Freeman Week: "Nile & Struggle" plus a fantasy AU in which superheroes exist, Nile isn't one of them, and she doesn't let that stop her. 1700 words, rated M for swearing. content warning for wounds and needles because it's Nile's turn for sapphic patching up, as a treat

the title is from Lianne La Havas’s “Midnight”. many thanks to @flightsofwonder for beta reading <3

read on AO3 or below

Nile opens her eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling. There is an unfamiliar pillow under her head, and she is recumbent on an unfamiliar sofa. Above it is a window, where streetlights reflect in the sinuous trails of raindrops.

Rain. Knives. Three attackers. She fought like hell, might have broken someone’s arm, but they landed one good hit. They left her for dead in an alley. She watched her own blood run into a puddle.

She bolts upright--and hisses when a wave of agony breaks over her, starting in her abdomen and shooting everywhere.

“Please don’t move,” says a softly accented voice. “You’re safe here. I haven’t seen your face.”

Nile collapses back down to the pillow and touches her face, just to be sure. Her mask is still in place. She drops her hand and forces one eye open, blurry with pained tears, to get a look at whoever dragged her in from the alley.

A white woman. Dark shoulder-length hair. Youngish, maybe Nile’s age. Dressed all in black, much like her--not for stealth but for soft goth vibes. Cute, if she’s honest, but this isn’t the fucking singles bar, get it together Freeman.

“I staunched the bleeding,” her rescuer says, “but I was waiting until you were conscious to do the stitches.”

“Do we have to?” Nile groans before she can stop herself.

A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. “I’m afraid so. Would you like some fortitude?” The amateur surgeon holds out a bottle of Everclear.

Ugh. Nile takes the cap off and drinks deep, leaving enough in the bottle to sterilize whatever needs to be sterilized. It tastes like ass and lingers at the back of her throat.

Before the alcohol can set in and obliterate her senses, she says, “Can I borrow your phone?”

The woman hesitates. Very wise of her.

“Listen,” Nile says. “We had two leads come in at the same time. Al-Tayyib took one and I took the other, and mine was a decoy, which means...” She can’t, won’t, say it aloud. She hates how feeble she sounds. “I just have to check in with him. Please.”

The woman hands her a smartphone, unlocked. Nile hits the keycode to make the call anonymous, then dials Joe’s shitty flip phone from memory. He keeps it on silent when he’s on the rounds, and he’ll only answer if he’s safe.

Pick up, she wills him, because if she has to hear his stupid cheerful voicemail greeting now of all times, she’s going to scream right in front of this poor woman who didn’t ask for any of this drama in her life. Pick up, pick up, pick--

“Pronto.”

Nile’s gut tightens (painfully, but that’s not what matters right now) at the sound of another unfamiliar voice. The assassin. Joe walked into a trap.

“Where is he?” she demands, trying to sound hard and not like she’s lying on a stranger’s couch with an open wound.

A gust in the speaker. Is he laughing at her? She strains to hear anything that would give away their location: traffic, a clock tower, machinery, anything. There’s nothing else. No hint of Joe yelling in the background, either.

“I will return him to you presently,” says the asshole. Very formal.

“What, after you shank him like your goons did to me?”

“They were instructed not to kill you,” he says in a voice that wouldn’t fog a window in January. “Did you die?”

White-hot rage flares out of her with no place to go. “Where is he, you son of a--” But he has already hung up on her.

Nile resists the urge to growl. If this was her phone she would throw it against the wall. Instead she quickly deletes the record of the outgoing call, and hands the phone back to the woman, who pockets it. “Thank you,” she says tightly.

“I’m sorry to say so,” says the woman as she holds the tip of a curved needle in a candle flame, “but you are in no condition to save anyone right now.”

She blows out a sigh in answer. When she pulls the hem of her shirt up and peels away the medical tape and bandage pad, she discovers that the woman is absolutely right. This isn’t the worst Nile has been hurt and still fought, but it is pretty bad.

And it’s one thing to trash a gang of traffickers while she’s actively bleeding. It’s something totally different to track down a guy who has been three steps ahead of them this whole time, and seems to have removed his sense of morals with an ice cream scoop.

There’s only one thing left to do: say a silent prayer. The way she learned to pray feels insufficiently casual for the circumstances; she wishes she knew more about the format of the rakat. All she remembers is, “God hears the one who praises him,” so she starts on the Lord’s Prayer because praise comes before petition.

In place of, “Give us this day our daily bread,” she substitutes, “Get Joe out of this with his head,” and then she has to hold back a giggle at the rhyme. She must have lost a lot of blood.

The woman wipes the needle down with Everclear. “You know, I met the old Guardian too.”

Nile eyes her carefully. She won’t say Andy’s name in this woman’s presence. She won’t say Joe’s name either, much less her own. She won’t slip no matter how much blood she’s lost or how strong the alcohol is or how fundamentally good and trustworthy this woman seems or how much this is going to hurt. “Not under the same conditions,” she presumes.

“Very similar,” the woman says with another fleeting smile. “I hope she’s well?”

“She’s good,” Nile hastens to reassure her. “She retired.” And she left Nile her nom de guerre and all the weight that went with it.

“I’m glad she made it that long.”

“Probably thanks to you,” Nile says, and she gets a longer smile for it.

Then the needle bites into her skin and Nile whimpers softly and throws an arm over her eyes. She’s hard. She’s tough. This is what she does.

The woman’s gloved hand pinches the wound closed as she stitches. She works quickly, professionally. “I’m really glad you found me,” Nile manages. “I can’t exactly go to a hospital.”

“I think you would be surprised,” the woman says. “You are well loved in this city. People would protect your identity.”

That’s not it. Nile can’t go to hospital because there’s a chance her mom would be on shift, and the only thing worse than keeping her alter ego secret from her mom is the idea that she would find out because Nile came in on a gurney. She can’t do that to her.

A tug, as she ties the thread off, and then a snip of the shears. Nile lifts her head and looks down at a slightly puckered, neatly stitched, no longer bleeding knife wound.

Her laugh sounds brittle, just this side of hysterical. The woman glances at her. “I have work tomorrow,” Nile says weakly.

The woman tapes a fresh bandage over the wound. “Me too.”

No rest for the righteous. “The struggle is real, huh? Sorry for keeping you up late.”

“I will call in if you do,” the woman offers.

But going into the office in the morning might be the soonest opportunity to make sure Joe is okay. Nile pulls her shirt down and zips her bomber jacket over it. “I should go.”

The woman sets one hand on Nile’s arm. “Please stay. You shouldn’t be out alone tonight.”

“They might have been watching when you brought me inside,” Nile warns.

“Then I will need your protection, won’t I?” the woman says without blinking, as if she’s not the one that just saved Nile’s whole life.

Nile cracks an incredulous smile but the woman just gazes at her solemnly.

“Okay,” she says at last. “Okay, I’ll stay. Thank you. And I’m sorry for bleeding on your couch.”

It’s not enough, but the woman just sets about cleaning up her supplies. Nile settles back against the pillow and wills her muscles to unclench.

“May I ask,” the woman asks as she washes her hands, “why you do this? You don’t have superpowers.”

No, and none of the people who do have taken this city under their protection. Flippant, lazy answers parade through Nile’s mind, because she’s not in a charitable mood. Anger issues. No one else is gonna do it. I’m a giant masochist, actually.

But when she opens her mouth, the first thing that comes out is Andy’s answer, from when Nile asked her years ago. “Because there are people worth fighting for.”

Then Joe’s answer: “People who won’t get justice any other way.”

And, finally, one that’s all hers. “I have a responsibility. This is my city”

She’s going to pass out any minute, but beneath her fatigue there’s still a live coal of the feelings that made her put this mask on in the first place. This is her damn city. She spends so much time in the guts of its shitty justice system, and the rest of the time punching assholes, that she sometimes forgets her city is full of ordinary, decent people. Good people. People who will bring someone in from the rain. People like…

“What’s your name?” Nile asks, and then catches herself. “I can’t--give you mine. Sorry. It might be safer if I don’t know yours.”

“Celeste,” says the woman.

Good people like Celeste. How comforting that is.

Her pain is down to an ache instead of a burn, and her eyes drift closed. In the morning, she’ll be out of Celeste’s hair. She’ll shower at her apartment, carefully, and she’ll go into Legal Aid, and Joe will be there, a little banged up but alive. He’ll hug her, quick and tight, and they’ll loiter by the coffee maker and speak in low voices and sort out their next play. And when the work day is over, they’ll go with Andy and Quỳnh down to Booker’s for drinks and darts, and Nile will order a bouquet of flowers sent to Celeste’s apartment in thanks. Everything, for given quantities of everything, will be fine.

Confident in her safety, secure in her purpose, Nile rests.

#The Old Guard #Nile Freeman #nileweek2021

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hockeywhy · 4 years ago

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rock on; t. jost

WARNINGS: none WORD COUNT: 2.2k A/N: I wrote this back when Josty blessed all the goths with his black lipstick and choker and space buns last Halloween, so I thought well, why not re-post it and here it is.

“Babe?”

“Mhm…”

You watch in amusement as Tyson hovers around your makeup table, occasionally picking at an item now and then to inspect it before setting it back in its place. Although he tries to make himself appear as nonchalant as he can, you know there is something on his mind that made him circle around the area for the past half hour or so. You didn’t think much of it initially until he started uncapping some lipsticks, twirling them up for inspection, eyebrows furrowing in concentration before setting them down again. If you didn’t know him for as long as you did, you’d pass off his behaviour as an act of boredom, but you can swear you know him even better than you know yourself at times. There is purpose to his movement, and you’re set on finding out what’s been nagging at him.

“See anything you like?” you ask cautiously, though there’s a hint of amusement in your voice.

“What? No, I was just…” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, placing a pencil back in its place and for a brief moment, he catches your eyes in the mirror. It isn’t until you arch a brow in silent question that Tyson turns to face you properly. “So, you know how we have that little get together for Halloween tonight?” he questions, and you prompt him to carry on with a quick nod of your head. “Well, since you and Olivia are going to wear matching costumes, Dante and I thought of doing the same thing.”

“Let me guess. You two are finally agreeing with our Flintstones costumes, and will dress as Fred and Barney?”

Tyson chuckles and he shakes his head, almost regretfully. “Not quite. But, uh, do you happen to have a really dark shade of lipstick? Like a dark purple or…black, even?”

You sit up slowly then crawl over to sit closer to the foot of the bed. “I think I do. I’m pretty sure I do. Why do you ask?”

“Well, remember when we watched that Scooby Doo movie and you said you really liked those Hex Girls?”

You’re just a split second away from confirming you remember that because it only happened the previous night. You and Tyson knew you’d be hanging out with a few friends on Halloween night, so you booked off the Eve of it solely for yourselves. The movies were rolling one after the other throughout most of the day and the two of you went from watching genuinely scary films to children’s stuff like Hocus Pocus or Paranorman, though you found that both of you were especially keen on Scooby Doo and the Witch’s Ghost. Whether it had to do with it being such a childhood classic or the familiarity of the characters, you and Tyson made sure you had enough snacks to last you the full run of the movie without either of you having to get up for refills. By the end of it, you were both trying to one-up each other for the best impersonation of the Hex Girls though you barely managed to make it halfway through before giving in to fits of laughter.

The coin dropped then.

“No way…” you exclaimed quietly while Tyson confirmed your guess with a quick nod and a big grin, clearly proud of the decision he and Dante came to at some point and could now finally put it to practice.

“Uh-huh. Well, we’re not dressing up as the Hex Girls but they’re definitely the inspiration, so… Think you can help?”

The sheer excitement of the thought made you squeal and jump up off the bed properly, clapping your hands together, mind already racing through the endless possibilities. Sure, you should probably make a start on putting together your own look for the approaching evening, but this was so much more exciting. Betty Rubble could wait. Tyson in a goth-rock look, however? You had to help him make a start on it – right now.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this sooner! I could’ve—oh gosh, we could’ve put together so many things!” you exclaimed while circling around him to browse quickly through a few items across the vanity, setting aside some tools in a pile you mentally labelled as the for-consideration pile.

“I trust you with this,” he assured, turning to sit properly in the seat while watching you go through what to him, seemed like endless options. “So, we’re thinking the full works, you know? All black outfits, maybe even makeup to go with it… What do you think?”

“I think this will be the best Halloween,” you confirm to him and press a quick kiss to his mouth for extra measure. Once you straighten up though, something keeps you hovering just behind Tyson to consider him with a slight tilt of your head and a narrowing of your eyes. Almost subconsciously, you bring a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through the curls and the gesture makes him tilt his head back in silent encouragement to keep doing that. “How about space buns?” you ask quietly, almost to yourself and briefly test out the idea by gathering some of his hair to part it. It’s long enough now, and so easy to work with that it’d be too much of a shame to pass on the opportunity. “Please say yes.”

Tyson laughs quietly, reaching back for one of your hands and giving it a light tug so that you can let him guide it to his mouth. He presses a kiss to the heel of your palm and then the inside of your wrist.

“Go for it.”

The fun begins then and though the idea is very much Tyson and Dante’s, the entire process becomes your own.

You dig out an old black denim jacket you almost forgot about and when you both come to the conclusion that it’s probably a little too tight for Tyson around the arms and therefore not quite as rock-and-roll, you take a pair of scissors to it despite his endless string of assurance that surely there’s something else he could use.

“Babe, it has little gems around it. You can’t say no to the early 2000s type gems on clothing,” you tell him in a deadpan voice and that seems to do it just right.

The dressing up part is the easiest and perhaps the most straightforward, but when you finally sit him down at the vanity again so that you can make a start, Tyson makes you line up everything you’ll use so he can take a picture and send it to Dante. Just to make sure that they’ll be as closely matched as possible.

Tyson follows your guidance to a T: he looks up when you line his bottom lash line and looks down when you make a start on his eyelids; he parts his lips a little just before you make a start on lining them (not before exclaiming how good this entire look is coming along and pressing another kiss on his mouth which he returns just before you take a pencil to it) and bites down on a small folded tissue when you tell him.

All the while, you prevent him from trying to glimpse himself in the mirror but after he gets past the first two complaints (“babe, come on I just want to look really quick” and “is it because I don’t fit this at all and you’re trying to soften the blow?”), Tyson simply settles quietly, legs spread just enough to let you stand closer while parting his hair. Occasionally, he’d loosely wrap his arms around your waist or casually caress your sides with his palms but other than that, the entire situation is reminiscent of days from childhood when you and your girlfriends would take turns helping each other with dress-up and sitting as still as possible out of sheer fear the slightest inclination of your body would ruin everything.

It isn’t until you finish doing one of the space buns that you lean back a little to look at him properly, and you can’t help the small giggle that escapes your mouth.

“I think this is it, baby,” you tell him. “This is the costume for you.”

A slight furrow forms on his face and his smile is almost cautious. “I can’t tell if you mean it’s horrifically good or horrifically horrific. Not that I don’t trust your skills!” he corrects quickly, before you even have the chance to consider that in the first place. “I don’t think I’d trust anyone with a pencil anywhere near my eye except you, but I’m pretty sure between the two of us, you’d rock the eyeliner, dark lipstick and space buns better than anyone can.”

You arch an eyebrow but waste no more time getting started on the second bun. “What, you’re telling me you never let Kacey lure you into playing dress up as kids?” There’s a moment of hesitation, so you know you got him. Besides, you’ve seen the photos. Those were some of the first Kacey showed you as soon as Tyson introduced you to his family. “Thought so. Now let me just get this one done and you’ll see you might just give Dusk a run for her money.”

Try as you might though, and you couldn’t tame one of his curls from falling over his forehead and though you had an apparent endless supply of pins, you decided to give them a pass. There is something so incredibly endearing about that one loose strand that refused to be tamed and besides, you figured Instagram would thank you for it if any photos were to go up on the internet. For extra safety, you twirl it around your finger then set it loose before bringing your palms up to hover in front of his eyes.

“Alright, now turn around slowly and I dare you to tell me this isn’t an entire look.”

He does as told and once he’s facing the mirror, you make an entire show out of removing your hands, complete with a ta-dah!

At once, his mouth falls open and slowly, he turns his head one way then the other before tilting it down just enough to catch a full glimpse of the buns sitting atop his head.

“Oh my god…” he mutters, and you can tell his voice is caught somewhere between regret and amusement, so you wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing your head down to rest on his shoulder after pecking his cheek quickly.

“If Dante came up with this idea, I’m buying him the most lavish box of chocolates. If you came up with this idea, it’ll take a lot to beat it, I promise that,” you assure him and Tyson bursts into embarrassed laughter.

“I look like I’m about to record the remix to an Alice Cooper song.”

“I wanna kiss you but I want it too much. I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison,” you quote in a soft sing-song voice and just as you’re about to pull away from him just to add that extra dramatic flair, Tyson catches your wrist and reels you back in towards him gently, meeting you halfway as he stands up.

“Keep going,” he murmurs against your mouth.

You chuckle softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Don’t spoil your lipstick so soon, baby. You didn’t even get to show it off to everyone else, so let’s save it for later, okay?”

It isn’t until you emerge from your bedroom almost an hour later after completing your own dress up that you notice Tyson had one extra surprise up his sleeve. He turns towards the sound of your footsteps and gleaming around his neck is a spiked leather choker that makes your jaw fall open. He stretches his arms out and does a slow spin, and when he faces you again, he tips his head back just a little as if to give you a better view.

“Yes? No?” he questions, and you detect a trace of hesitance in his voice.

“Yes,” you confirm, almost breathlessly as you close the gap between the two of you and despite your earlier warning, kiss him even if some of the black lipstick might transfer onto your own hot pink one. It’s no bother, anyway. You have your tube and Tyson’s packed in your clutch.

Just as you’re about to make a move towards the door, however, Tyson stops you and encourages you to do a full spin.

“Wow,” he exclaims, following that up with a low whistle. “It’s really not too late at all for me to get into that Barney costume.”

“Absolutely not,” you state firmly and to make your point even clearer, you quickly push him out of the door. “Betty Rubble and Wilma Flintstone are going to just have a girls’ Halloween get-together and we’ll see our husbands when we get back home. Meanwhile, you and Dante can put on a show worthy of a 2000s middle school goth-rock party. Hey, do you know the lyrics to My Chemical Romance’s I’m Not Okay?”

“I’m not singing My Chemical Romance,” Tyson says quickly, almost stumbling his words in doing so as if saying it any slower would mean he’d have to do it right there and then.

“Oh, you are so singing My Chemical Romance,” you say softly, voice taking on that sing-song tone again and burst into laughter as Tyson groans, gently bumping his head against the steering wheel.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #*#remember when tyson just decided to win halloween????? remember that????#i just thought of it randomly today and i was like holy shit #he makes me miss doing my own hair up in space buns so i think i will tomorrow lol

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sisterofleatherfrog · 3 years ago

Text

Star Wars Kinktober day- 3

Prompt: Under-clothes bondage

Fives x Sub! OC (AFAB)

Orla is another one of my OC’s that I sometimes play around with in my fandom daydreams. She’s very tall (think around 6’10), and her appearance is non-human (I’ll definitely have to elaborate on that in art form later), and she is Five’s big-titty goth gf. She has some self-confidence/worth issues, but Fives is literally so goddamn smitten.

Some art as a sorry for missing day 4!

Tags: Bondage, collar, bf chooses gf’s clothes and dresses her, pre negotiated kink, safewords, cunnilingus, dirty talk, daddy kink

Words: 2440

🖤💜🖤

“Fives? Do- do you, could you help me?” Orla asked, a tremble present in her voice. They’d planned this outing the previous week, going out to a beer garden to have lunch and meet with a few of Five’s brothers and their significant others. She’d made friends with a few of the troopers and their partners and was definitely looking forward to having a few drinks with them. That wasn’t all though, after confirming the date and time Orla had got to thinking. They’d been playing around with a lot of things recently in the bedroom; the collection of ropes, binders, among other things in their special little place was a testament to that. They had yet to try and bring it out of the bedroom, but it had been teasing Orla’s mind all week, and maybe…

Footsteps came up to the ajar bedroom door and it swung as it opened, her lover’s head peaked in. “What’s the matter Meshla? The dress zipper stu-” Fives abruptly stopped as he saw her, kneeling nude in the middle of the bedroom with a several meter length of red rope before her. The door lightly knocked the wall as he came fully into the room and looked down at her from a few paces with no little interest in his eyes. “What’s all this then,?”

He didn’t sound like he was upset in any way and Orla felt confident in explaining: “Well, remember us speaking of trying more adventurous things?” Fives nodded, eyes shining with that impish edge she knew so well as they roved her lush body. She bit her lip, “I must confess I’ve been thinking more on it since these plans were made, and maybe… Could you tie me up, daddy? I want to be your good little slut wherever we go together.” She lowered her head, but still her eyes stayed on Fives where he looked down on her.

For a moment he was quiet, seemingly stunned as everything, her nudity, the use of THAT word, and the begging all came together to short-circuit his mind. Before she could start to regret her decision though, he drew in a shaky breath and drew a hand down his face until the wide grin on his face was revealed to her. He shifted his weight, the movement catching her eye and bringing it down to his crotch where he was beginning to stir. “Shit meshla,” he breathed. “Do you mean it? Do you really want to do this with me?”

Orla nodded, a desperation that surprised her causing heat to lick throughout her abdomen and fill her head. Fives came and knelt before her, now looking up to her dark eyes, partially shadowed by her coal black hair. “I need your words Orla, I need to know you really want this and aren’t doing something just to please me. Maker, do I want you like this, but not at the expense of you being miserable.” The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing one perfect dimple. “I want this to be good for you too.”

A different warmth suffused her, she knew he loved her, and the amount of care he always gave her made her feel like a princess. Leaning her head down into a keldabe with him, she smiled before moving her lips to brush over his tattoo and down to his ear. “I want this, daddy, I truly do. I want to be extra good for you.” Orla punctuated her words by sliding a hand over his thigh and up to cup the bulge at his crotch. Fives groaned and grabbed the both of her wrists to stop her hands from wandering any further.

“You win this one, and you’re the best girlfriend ever!” He punctuated his sentence with a quick smooch before dragging her to stand with him. “Turn around meshla and lift your hair, let's see about getting you into this.” He started by placing the rope around the back of her neck, making sure that even halves were on either side of her neck and going down her front. Coming around he gently but confidently gripped it, already knowing the alignment of loops and knots he had to do. Within the valley between her breasts he made one knot and left a kiss on her left breast, below he made another and gave her right breast the same treatment. Just above her belly button he made one more knot, then dropped to his knees and started to trail kisses down from there, taking a moment to dip his tongue into her belly button and making Orla giggle, before he went lower and transformed it into a gasp. Five’s tongue followed the curve of her lower abdomen, trailed along her upper thigh, before he pulled back, his right hand taking its place before moving in and parting her labia with two strong, skilled fingers.

Fives looked into her intently, studying the configuration of sensitive flesh at her apex for a moment before coming forward to kiss her lips, making out with her slit as his tongue made love to her clit. She gasped down at him, hand coming to clutch at his shoulders and the top of his head, whatever she could reach to steady herself. He was- “Oh, Fives, right there love!” He moved deeper into her heat if that was even possible, both hands having moved to her ass cheeks to pull her closer. His lips were locked around her clit, alternating and simultaneously sucking and licking with that tongue of his, that said such alternatingly inflammatory and jesting words, skilled and silver now on her. Often he would move, delve into her, kiss along her thighs and tease, build her up to a wholly satisfying end. This was something else though, a hunger both desperate and wild, focused on one goal alone, tracing along that lone and narrow path with a single minded purpose. He went on, groaning into her and holding her still as she shivered writhed, her size making no difference in his ability to hold her right where he wanted with his strength.

Orla’s breath was escaping her in gasps and high whines, keening her need to him and she was drawn further and further up that path by him, his desperation infecting her as well. Oh he wasn’t taking his time at all, but she was adoring this direct and needy side to him. Her legs were turning to rubber and Five’s hands slid into the curve below her ass to hold her even more firmly, surely leaving marks that would be seen there later. He kept licking and laving, latched on so firmly it was as if he was feeding from her all the while she fed off the pleasure she got from him, creating a self-sustaining organism in a perpetual state of bliss and ecstasy. She felt him tying a new knot and keened into the otherwise quiet air of the room, her head tilting back and chest arching as she felt it winding ever tighter within her womb. Tighter and tighter, lick by suck, she was on the edge and just had to stretch a little further-

With a wild cry she fell, the knot unwound with a blinding intensity and she shook as her cunt clenched over nothing again and again. Fives kept at her throughout her orgasm, firmly pressing his tongue to her as she danced against it in order to carry her down. When she was passing pleasure and entering into the territory of too much, Orla put a hand on his head and gently urged it away from her and he released with an obscene pop sound. He gazed up at her, eyebrows drawn down into an expression of yearning and his eyes shining as bright as her slick on his chin. The sight was enough to draw an honest whimper from her.

“There, there meshla, you’re alright,” he cooed, now rubbing her legs and sides in order to sooth her. “You did so well, coming for me like that all wet and sweet. I was so happy when you told me how much you wanted to try something public that I just couldn’t help myself. I love you so, so much my beautiful Orla. ‘Want you to always feel good.” He rambled against her lower stomach as he rested his forehead there, praise spilling out of him like water from a too full cup. They stayed like that for a little while until she felt like she had more control over her body, the shivering and shaking dying down with her leveling breath. Finally he lifted himself and stood, hands coming to rest against her lower back as he delicately pressed her to him. “Are you good? I didn’t mean to be too much, especially before we got somewhere to be.”

Orla smiled widely, “It wasn’t too much Fives, in fact it was very much appreciated.”

He smiled back, “Well that’s good, I’d hate to have to tell the boys we had to cancel because the pussy was just too good.”

She snorted, “Oh I’m sure you would, lover.” Suddenly feeling a little shy, she continued, “Now, can you please help me finish getting ready? I don’t think I can do all these knots and twists myself.”

He reached up to cup her cheek and draw her down for a quick kiss, “Oh meshla I’d be more than happy to assist. Though, after that, and this being your first time trying this, how about we put some panties on you so the rope won’t rub as much?”

This man- “What pair should I wear then daddy?” always so considerate of her.

His grin was downright feral as he looked at her before taking her hand and leading her over to her wardrobe and pulling out the proper drawer, said drawer full of a rainbow of lace, cotton, satin, and mesh. Orla loved fun panties and Fives took full advantage of that, loving whenever she would ask him to choose for her so that he could picture what lay under her clothes all day. She was partial to a few pairs, but he most always chose the pair he plucked from the bunch now, a royal and baby blue number dyed in a marble pattern with ‘Want some?’ written across the ass in aurebesh. He ducked down and she again steadied herself with his shoulders as he now lifted each of her legs to fit into the slip of fabric, before drawing them up to her hips and smoothing the hems.

Then, after checking with her once again, he returned to the previously forgotten rope and from the last left knot, drew the tailings down to her apex. Twisting the ropes together some so that they’d sit between her labia, he drew them between her spread legs and went to her back to draw it up to the initial loop at the back of her neck. Pulling so it was snug but not tight, he brought both halves to come out to her hands, “Hold onto these for me love.” She complied and he came back around the front of her, taking a moment to admire what he’d done already. “Oh, yeah, it’s all coming together.” Orla snorted and lightly slapped his chest, he raised an eyebrow, “Is that the sort of game you want to play right now?”

“Maybe later.” She teasingly promised and he grinned back at her, now looping the rope from under her arms and between the first and second knot, the rope turning back on each side to return behind her back the way it had come. He followed and looped each side around the lengths that ran up her spine before indicating she should hold the rope again. He did the same process between the second and third knot and around her back before bringing up what was left of the rope and tying it off on the third knot. He stepped back then, eyes roaming up and down the planes and curves of her body, now decorated with blue and tied off with red, like a present just for him. He looked for a long, long while.

“You know what to do if this gets to be too much and you want to stop, right?”

She nodded seriously, “Five taps to your thigh, or say ‘Zillo’.”

He smiled like the sun, “Now how are we going to cover all this up?”

“Oh I really don’t know daddy, maybe you could help me with that too?”

“Orla, I have no idea what I did to deserve you but I love you so much, and I mean that with my whole ass.” He confessed with all seriousness.

Laughing again, she pressed against him and leaned down to kiss his wonderful mouth. Breaking apart again they went to inspect her clothes hanging in the closet. He reached in and pulled out a black dress with a halter top and flowy skirt that would fall about halfway down her thighs. He grinned, “Feeling like being a little risky today as well by any chance?”

“Yes please my love!” Slipping it over her head, Fives did up the three clips that secured the neck. Leaving the last bit up to her, Orla found a top to layer over it to better obscure the bondage beneath, and finished it up with a traditional self-tying corset from her people, quickly done up by pulling the two cords to either side of her and tying them in front. Meanwhile, Fives had quickly gone to change his shirt and give his face a wipe, both having been soaked by her earlier. Returning in a casual purple button up with red stitching along the collar, he looked like a treasure to be found in her people’s queen's harem.

“Looking good lover.” She told him as she bent to pull on her boots, the three inch platforms bringing her height to a full foot above his own.

“Quacta, stifling.” he simply responded.

Walking towards the door he asked, “Are we all ready to go meshla?” he turned and she

smiled shyly again, feeling a blush turning the purple shades in her skin darker.

“Maybe not quite?” she intoned, moving back to the closet she opened it and pushed aside a few of his shirts to reveal a certain rack of jewelry, consisting of leather collars, some with rings on them, others otherwise decorative. “Which one do you think I should wear out today, daddy?”

In the end, they were a little late getting to the beer gardens.

🖤💜🖤

Oh I really liked writing this one. I know so far all my works have been coming out early in the morning the day after they’re supposed to be posted but I am going to try and fix that! Like the Tup and Aurelie work on the 1st, I feel like this one may come back with a part 2 because I’m really vibing with these two (and I hope y’all are too just as much as I am).

Kinktober works

Masterlist

#sisterofleatherfrogwrites #kinktober #kinktober 2021 #star wars #the clone wars #sw #tcw #sw tcw #fives #ct-5555 #arc trooper fives #fives x oc #fives is my favourite smart dumbass

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nightshadeshadow123 · 4 years ago

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Teasing: Part 2 (Ratched)

Here is part two for those that wanted it. I hope ya'll enjoy. I'm gonna change the story line a bit as I see fit because I don't want to turn this into a whole unwanted story book if I fit the whole original story line in at a slow pace and time line.

Gwendolyn followed behind Mildred, easily catching up to her as Mildred spared her a side glance, eyes softening for a moment.

"Can I help you Ms Briggs?" She asked, trying to keep her tone of voice emotionless and authoritative as ever.

Gwendolyn shot her a warm smile stopping next to her as Mildred came to a stop at a door before turning to her.

"Maybe, yes. I just wanted to ask if you'd like to go out with me and (Y/N) to a restaurant tonight?" Gwendolyn asked, trying to play off her nerves and hoping for the best.

Mildred raised a dark eyebrow at the blonde. "Why would I do that?"

Gwendolyn rolled her blue eyes before giving her another smile. "Oh come on, it will be a adventure. Just for tonight after work." She urged.

She was really hoping that the red haired woman would say yes. She's just as interested in her as much as you are after meeting her for the first time. She was intrigued when you've started talking about the red haired nurse when the two of you were out somewhere or at home and she definitely knew why you were so intrigued by her after meeting her.

Mildred slug her shoulder for a moment, eyes focused on the older blonde woman.

"Okay fine, I'll go on that supposed adventure with the two of you." She agreed reluctantly, fighting of a blush trying to spread across her cheeks.

Gwendolyn gave her a closed eyed smile. "Wonderful, (Y/N) and I will pick you up later. Just tell me where."

"Sealight Inn." Mildred informed her before taking a hold of the cold door knob and unlocking it with the key she had in her other hand.

"Pick you up at 7." Gwendolyn confirmed with her before turning around and walking down the hallway.

Mildred listen to her footfalls until it's just distant before shaking her head and walking into the room.

-*Timeskip brought to ya by Ratched's juicy peaches.-*

"Hurry up back there love. It's almost time to go!" Gwendolyn said excitedly, popping her head around the corner into your room and seeing you messing around with a strap on your dark grey dress.

"Just a minute. This stupid strap won't cooperate with me tonight." You huffed out in annoyance. "I hate dresses."

Gwendolyn let out a laugh and strides over to you and assisting you with the dress strap and giving you a peck on the lips before pulling away, making you send her a pout.

Gwendolyn laughed again at you. "Oh hush, there will be plenty of kissing later. Now let's go pick up that nurse before she gives us a labotomy for being late." She pulled you out of your apartment, almost growing impatient as you locked the door first.

"Oh hell to the fuck naw woman don't even mention that. Doctor Hanover was a pain in the side with that whole thing. God his whole idea of turning people straight is ridiculous but yeah I have to refrain myself from knocking him into oblivion." You grumbled and got into the the passenger seat of Gwendolyn's car.

She got in as well and shot you smile before starting the car and reversing out of the parking. "Honey I know, he have a weird way but yeah that's just how some people are. But at least he haven't caught onto us yet."

You hummed in agreement and interlocked your fingere with her other one hands fingers that is not on the steering wheel as she drove down the mostly empty street.

Gwendolyn shot you another smile, blue eyes sparing you a loving brief look before focusing back on the road ahead again and tightening her hold on your hand comfortably.

After a few minutes of driving you decide to break the comfortable silence.

"I still can't believe you've managed to get Mildred to go out with us on one of your fun 'adventures'."

The blonde woman laughed under her breath at you, hold once again tightening on your hand as you used your other hands black painted finger nails to trail against her soft skin in a unknown pattern, goosebumps rising on her skin as you smirked to yourself.

"Hey my 'adventures' is always fun. You love it even if you try to hide it. And ofcourse she would, who can resist not to come on one of my adventures?"

"Apparently no one. You've nagged me day and night to go on one when we've first met and you wouldn't stop until I've finally agreed." You chuckled.

Gwendolyn snorted at this. "Hell, getting you to go out on a date with me was one heck of task, you and Mildred are both as stubborn as a mule."

"Pfft, I'm just hard to be impressed and my dad wasn't so amused at you turning up at random times and he threatened to blow your brains out and honestly that wasn't something I'd like to see happen to you. And Mildred be like that but it makes it all the more fun to tease her." You mused out, keeping up the pattern on her soft skin, taking joy in the way it makes goosebumps rise to her skin as she tries to keep her cool.

"Well, I gotta agree with you there on the last part. God that father of yours was a pain but it was so worth it in the end because now I have you and he's a whole lot nicer now."

You kept up your small talk for another half hour before Gwendolyn turned into the drive way of the Motel where Mildred is staying at.

Mildred stood with her gloved hands folded together as she watched Gwendolyn's car pull up next to her, a unreadable look on her fair face.

You eyed her head from toe from inside the car. She was wearing a red and black attire and black gloves and with her hair in its usual updo with a small black hat resting comfortably upon her red hair.

Mildred looked behind her at the motel for a brief few moments before focusing her dark eyes back on the car again and began to approach the vehicle.

She got in the back seat of the car and softly closed the door behind her before looking at you and Gwendolyn as you both turn to greet her.

"Hey Mildred." You greeted, a warm smile grazing your red painted lips as you eyed the red haired woman.

"Hello (Y/N) and Gwendolyn." She greeted back, a hint of a smile ghosting across her lips as she eyed you both, hands crossing together again in a way to steel herself from the bit of nervousness creeping up on her after seeing the two of you.

Gwendolyn shot her a friendly smile too and greeted her excitedly before starting the car up again and driving once again after getting on the road again.

-*Another Timeskip brought to you by ya less than impressed goth mother-*

It didn't take long for you to find a table after arriving at the restaurant, sitting down at a table near the windows that had a nice out view of the sea outside.

Mildred sat in front of you while Gwendolyn sat next to you, her soft hand subtly on your clothed thigh in a caring matter, occasionally rubbing it slightly as you flip through the menu while Mildred, as subtly as possible scanned the dark grey dress you are wearing that have a low neckline that just give enough tease of your breasts and a fang necklice that's dangling between your breasts, her dark eyes focused on the small glimpse of skin for a longer while until Gwendolyn playfully nudged her lower leg with her heeled foot, giving her a smirk and teasing wink.

Mildred could feel a blush creeping up at both being caught out and the teasing wink and quickly averted her eyes, gloved hand going to her red painted lips and pretending to cough into it.

"Can I get your lovely ladies orders?" A rather slim looking waiter asked after stopping at your table, a nervous smile on his face and pen and notebook in hand.

All three of your focus snapped to the blond waiter.

"One large platter of oysters and lemon please." Gwendolyn ordered before looking at you as you slid your menu away.

"I'll just have some cooked salom with a side of potato slices with creamy sauce please." You orered and gave the nervous waiter a polite smile.

He quickly jotted that down before looking up again. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you." Gwendolyn dismissed him with a flick of her hand and watch as he speed walked away.

The blonde chuckled and put her hand on your upper leg again and gave you a warm smile as you looked at the older woman with adoration as you put your hand on top of hers, and using the other hand to swipe a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Mildred watched the two of you with a small smile, finding it cute at the way the two of you look at each other with adoration. This whole thing was new to her and made her a bit on edge but deep down she knew she was having fun and couldn't help herself from smiling and getting that strange flutter feeling in her stomach that made her feel tingles all over, wondering if that's how the two of you always feel when looking at each other.

The three of you chatter in small talk until the food arrived.

Mildred eyed the oysters nervously and you bite back a amused smile at the red haired woman, sifting in your seat until you are more comfortable before picking up your fork and knife.

"Uh...I've never eaten oysters before. I-I'm not sure how to...do this." Mildred sputtered out embarrassed, skeptically eyes the oysters.

Gwendolyn let out a laugh before giving her a reassuring smile.

"Oh, don't worry. (Y/N) over here didn't either until I taught her but then again she's not one for many type of seafood as you can see. She pretty much hate oysters and would only eat one every once in awhile if I beg her and feed her one." The older woman chuckled and nudged you with her side playfully as you gave her a playful death glare. (Sorry ya'll seafood lovers but damn that shit is enough to send me throwing tf up)

Mildred looked at you and let's out a soft laugh as you smile at her before cutting into your piece of salom.

Gwendolyn then proceeded to explain and ' demonstrate' how to eat it to red haired woman while you watched the older two women in both adoration and amusement.

As Gwendolyn leaned over the table slightly to feed a oyster to Mildred you sneaked your heel cladded foot out and ever so slowly brush it against Mildred's tight causing her to jump slightly and almost choke on the oyster.

Mildred looked at you in surprise, not having expected that but you only gave her a smug smirk, leg still brushing up against her smooth leg while you continued eating as Gwendolyn caught onto what happened and smile to herself.

The red haired woman fought back another blush, trying to ignore the goosebumps appearing on her skin as your soft leg brushed against hers in a sly way that have her getting wet.

"So?..."Mildred started, trying to keep her nervousness and arousal at bay.

"How and when did you two met?" She asked both genuinely curious but also to distract herself from the feeling of your leg against hers.

Gwendolyn looked at you and putted a hand on your upper leg again, squeezing it slightly, enjoying how you clearly enjoyed that and the way you are getting the nurse worked up with your other leg.

"We met at once at a bar, I tried getting to know her better but she wasn't too keen on that but I just knew I had to keep on trying. After she left I thought I never see her again but we did end up meeting again when her father had a business meeting with The Governor two months later, she was helping her father out as a assistant at the time." Gwendolyn began to explain excitedly while you continued to mess with the stoic nurse and getting amusement from her clear struggle to keep up her exterior.

"Her father didn't like me at first, he hated me in fact because as he like to put it, I was making googly heart eyes at his daughter and wanted to steal her and he was being protective." Gwendolyn chuckled um used lying at the memory of that day he said that.

You decided to join in on the conversation. "Yeah. He was ready to kill you after you've sneaked me out a few times and also get us in trouble or when you'd show up knocking at his door at two in the morning and your continued persistent urge to see me."

Mildred was listening with intrest now, a smile spread across her lips as she decide to be bold and sneaked her hand down and grabbed onto your lower leg that is brushing against hers causing you to pause as she eyed you, her fingers digging into your soft skin before tracing patterns on it as you gave her another teasing look, your hand dropping to Gwendolyn's hand on your tight.

"I know, but at least he likes me now. It took two years but I regret nothing and neither does he I think." Gwendolyn finished, looking at you again with a loving look you mirrored mixed with lust as she sneaked her hand to ghost dangerously close to your already throbbing center, the tips of her fingers skimming against it over your dress.

Mildred bite her lower lip subtly as she saw the look that the two in front of her is sharing, having a great idea at what they must silently convey with each other without uttering a word.

You slowly licked over your lower lip, (e/c) eyes darkening as Gwendolyn's blue lust filled eyes flicked down to your lips at the motion until she squeezed your thight again and your eyes met again until you gave a silent nod to the blonde.

Gwendolyn called the waiter over and told the nervous waiter to bring the bill and then focus to look at Mildred that is still watching you, her grip firm on your lower leg by now.

"Would you like to come back to our house?" The older woman dared to ask, having clearly noticed the way she have watched the two of you with her dark eyes, clearly aroused after the teasing you've done and they look the two of you had shared.

Mildred snapped her eyes back to Gwendolyn before clearing her throat, her tights rubbing together after she released your leg.

"Uh...Sure. I think so." She agreed reluctantly, not sure if she should.

Gwendolyn smiled at the waiter as he brought the bill and quickly paying for it and sending him off before grabbing her car keys and getting up with you.

You linked one arm with Gwendolyn and held a hand out to Mildred, waiting patiently for her to take it.

She looked down at your hand for a moment before taking it firmly and allow you to drag her along as Gwendolyn led you out of the restaurant and right towards her car, relishing your arm to open the passenger door for you and the back door for Mildred, not even bothering to hide her excitement as she watched the two of you get in.

"Thanks for this night out. It was fun." Mildred said in her raspy voice, one of her hands sneaking over the seat and resting on your shoulder and the other one on Gwendolyn's shoulder after Gwendolyn pulled out of the parking lot and started driving.

You both shot her a smile before Gwendolyn spoke up.

"It was a pleasure having you with us. Thank you for agreeing to come out."

Mildred smiled at this.

"But I bet we'll have even more fun at home." Gwendolyn eyed the red haired woman through the mirror of the car, smirking when seeying the other woman blush slightly and feeling the grip on her shoulder tightening.

"You don't say. Well then I can't wait."

You looked between them and put a hand on Gwendolyn's upper leg, notching how the older woman tense up for a moment as you sneaked your hand to her clothed center in a agonising slow pace.

Mildred smirked at this and as the two of you made eye contact you gave her a wink she just seemed to understand and decided to play along with your game by slipping her hand lower on Gwendolyn's shoulder slowly too, sneaking in beneath her light grey dress as the older woman tensed more at the unexpected moves from you both.

Mildred teasingly sneaked her fingers through the top of Gwendolyn's dark bra, her cold fingers groping her left breast while your hand disappear between the blondes legs, cupping her aching center firmly as she try to hold back a tiny moan.

"Don't...distract me." The blonde tried to be stern but she only let out a broken moan as Mildred leaned more over the seat and began to kiss a trail up her shoulder up towards her neck while you decide to sneak your hands into her panties and rub at her now wet clit.

"Fuck!" Gwendolyn hissed out under her breath, her grip on the steering wheel tightening until her knuckles turned white when you slipped a finger between her slick folds.

A low register chuckle fell from Mildred's lips at this, taking great pleasure in hearing the blonde woman getting so worked up by the touch of you and her.

"What the matter? Can't handle a little teasing Gwen?" She husked into the older woman's ear, dark lust filled eyes trailing over the goosebumps appearing on the other woman's skin.

You chuckled too, sharing another look with the red haired nurse before you lower yourself and leaned over to Gwendolyn's lap, pulling her panties down her legs, forehead leaning against her upper leg as you inhaled and then exhaled a warm breath against her upper leg right where her center begin making the woman glare down at you.

"Don't you dare do that now while I'm driv-" the blonde tried to warn sternly but was cut of by whimpering when you licked her clit teasingly, a finger gingerly rubbing between her soaked folds as you looked up at her with a smug smirk.

"Holy shit. Just don't hunt me if we crash." Gwendolyn's glared daggers but couldn't help but take joy in your and Mildred's minestrations, leaning her head back against the Mildred's as the red haired woman kiss up against her neck once again while you slip a finger inside of her.

All she knew was that she can't wait to get back to your shared home and get the two of you back for this teasing.

-End or to be continued(if enough people desire a smutty threesome part)😏

Hey ya'll, I'm not making the readers father a homophobic in this part but my father and whole family is homophobic in real life so pretty much I just want to write one that Isn't. Sorry for this shitty part but honestly I'm not good at writing. Lol I didn't exactly plan on making this part as smut teasing as this but eh shit happens and I couldn't control myself. Eh and let's pretend reader and Gwendolyn owns a house where they go to.

#mildred ratched x reader #sarah paulson x reader #gwendolyn briggs x reader #cordelia goode x reader #wilhemina venable x reader

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ravensmind · 4 years ago

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Happy RobRae week 2021! Here's my day 1 prompt fic. There will be an extended smuttier version coming soon. Might only do this prompt this year just due to things I have going on, but I'm still writing! Hope you enjoy this 😃.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13863436/1/Finals-and-a-First

~RavensMind~

RobRae week 2021

Day 1: Gotham Academy AU

Finals and a First

Finals week. Two simple words that had the power to make anyone quake with anxiety and while he may do a good job of hiding it, Dick Grayson was no exception. Luckily for him, he had a solid group of friends who had each other’s backs. They mostly studied as a group when they were free, unless their class schedule or extracurricular activity demanded they improvise. Gotham Academy was not known for caring about its students' friendships or whether they had free time to study together or not. Dick was on the football team and they did not have practice that day, so he was free, but Victor, Kori, Garfield, and Tara were all at meets or practices or matches or just in class, only Rachel was able to study with him, and that presented a challenge. Dick was enamored with Rachel, infatuated with Rachel, could not stop thinking about Rachel, and she had no idea because he just could. Not. Tell. Her.

Even though Rachel Roth, the quiet, reserved, sarcastic, smart, violet-haired girl was sitting only inches away from him at the same table in the library, he could not look at her, as he had some paranoid feeling that she knew exactly how he felt when he looked at her. Normally, he would play off of his other friends, but now they were alone. He hid in his textbook, pretending to be very interested in some words located near the spine of the book in some rose colored block of text. Out of frustration with his own inner turmoil, he picked up the noble they’d been assigned to read and chucked it into a nearby bookcase.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked in a frustrated tone.

“Yeah, I��m fine, why?” Dick returned.

"You’re just not usually this quiet, is all,” she replied.

“Guess I’m just nervous,” he said.

“About our finals?”

“Yeah,” he said, thanking the universe for that excuse.

“I didn’t think you got nervous over stuff like this, at least I don’t think I’ve seen it. Wait ‘till this gets out, the chill, cool captain of the football team is freaking over his final,” she teased.

“But you wouldn’t tell anyone, right?”

“No. Lucky you, I don’t think anyone would believe me.”

“That the only reason you wouldn’t say anything?”

“No, because I don’t know that I believe you either,” she replied, toying with a strand of her hair with one of her slim, almost pale fingers.

Dick chanced a look at her and was surprised to see a playful smirk on her face and a strange look in her violet eyes that he was not sure he had seen before. He tensed a little when he realized he had slipped up and looked at her. Did she know? Was he screwed? The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable and get on her bad side. She had enough trouble dealing with the gossip and judgmental teachers for her goth vibe and overall lack of shits to give attitude.

At one point, he heard Rachel had been summoned to the dean’s office for violating the dress code by wearing black knee highs over fishnets and foregoing the standard blue skirt for a black one. Her response was that technically she was in compliance, as there was no rule about a specific color skirt, or that she could not wear anything in addition to the socks on her legs, and she was a model student. Aside from snapping at a teacher or two, she was rarely in trouble, and he knew she had good grades. She still kept that style, even though more teachers voiced their disapproval, but they ultimately could not do anything without changing the dress code and it was not worth it. After he heard about what happened, Dick helped her out by changing the color tie and slacks he wore from blue to black, as his popularity would make her style choice far less controversial. He had mostly done it to help her, but he also liked being seen as more of a rebel. He stuck up for her when she was being picked on and she was always quick to shut down anyone who was bad-mouthing him.They had grown a bit closer as a result, though neither really acknowledged it to the other.

He swallowed and considered what his options would be if she dug deeper. He hoped that he could talk his way out of whatever accusation she was about to make. He shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Hmm. Well, you’ve never really stressed about tests before. When Gar complains, you calm him down and put together a plan to study, so I’m pretty sure you’re more level-headed,” she replied.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.”

“No, but I think it’s less likely that it’s about the exams. Now that I think about it… you kind of acted like this last time we hung out. Maybe it’s about one of us,” she thought aloud.

“Like I said, I’m nervous about finals. It’s, uhh, just been a lot for me this time. It’s our last year and I don’t want Bruce to be harder on me if I don’t measure up,” he said, injecting a little truth, desperately hoping it would help sell his lie.

“I suppose that’s fair, but I still don’t think it’s that.”

“Why’s it matter? It’s not like I’m hiding anything that would hurt people. I’m just stressed!”

“You’re hiding plenty, but that’s not the point. It matters,” she hesitated before continuing, “because I don’t like seeing you stressed. It’s like I can feel it and I want to help you. Something’s clearly eating at you and I hate seeing you try and bury it like it’s not there.”

He sighed and looked down at his book. He stared down at the page as he felt the swelling of emotions that rose from his heart. He wanted to spill everything, but knew that it would not be fair to her, to dump everything at once and give her a massive choice to make about them. He cared about her and she clearly cared about him, so he thought he might be able to at least give her a hint or two. She was dealing with more than enough, she didn’t need his problems too.

“Okay...don’t laugh. It’s about a girl,” he said.

Rachel perked up and tilted her head. Dick swore her eyes lit up, but that may have just been a trick of the light as someone passed by the window near them, book in hand.

“I’m not going to laugh! What’s making you so nervous? I seriously doubt you’d ever need to be stressing over a girl, plenty throw themselves at you, though I guess that could be tough too.”

“She’s different. I like her, but she’s never really said if she likes me or not. I hang out with her quite a bit and we have fun, or I think we do. I'm just not sure if I want to take a chance and mess up a good thing.”

“You’re being ridiculous.. Clearly she likes you enough to spend time with you, you should have had some kinda obvious sign by now. Some girls tease you or act a certain way around you, others might be more blunt, but you have to know at this point. Though, it would help if you said who she is,” she teased knowingly.

“Hah, yeah, it is a little silly,” he chuckled, “You wouldn’t tell her though?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m interested, I need to get ready for the big reveal, lots of pyro and speakers to set up,” she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes, “No, of course not, idiot. You know you can trust me. Why the secrecy, though? Is it... Kori?”

She leaned forward with interest, almost teetering on the edge of her seat.

“No, uh, but you’re kinda close,” he said, anxiously shifting in his chair.

He watched as she went quiet and crossed her legs in her chair, sitting up a bit straighter as she considered the possible remaining options. He hoped she had thought of herself first.

“I admit, I could see why you’d like Tara, she’s pretty easy to talk to and knows what she likes, which isn’t common,” she said, tracing her bottom lip with her finger, “I think she can be a little insecure though, so you may want to keep that in mind.”

He wondered to himself if she was toying with him.

“It’s uhh, it’s not Tara, either,” he admitted, his cheeks turning red.

Rachel’s cheeks also reddened as her mouth formed a coy smile, and she went quiet. Her fingers played with the edge of a page in her textbook as she looked away from Dick toward the door before snapping back so her eyes met his.

“Oh. So, I think if you like her, you really should say something. I’m not sure if I know *exactly* how she feels, but I’d want to hear you say how much you like me. I’d like to know how I made you feel… if I was her,” she teased.

“Are you sure? I uhh, I’d hate if I came on to her too strongly, she’d shut me down and it would mess with the friendship she and I had,” he asked, undoing his tie and opening his school blazer a little. He was feeling very warm all of a sudden.

“I don’t think she would let that happen, Dick,” she replied, leaning closer to him, “You should probably tell me who she is...so I have a better idea.”

He took a deep breath and smiled at her, letting the moment last, enjoying the hopeful, expectant look on her face.

“Her name is Rachel,” he said, edging closer to her.

Dick felt his heart pounding in his chest and he swore his face was burning as they both got closer to each other, until his lips were inches from Rachel’s. Neither looked around to see who else in the library might be watching, and the idea that anyone else even existed was as distant as another planet. Her eyes closed as she pressed her lips to his and he eagerly kissed her back, hardly believing this was happening. Their heated kiss was interrupted by the sound of the librarian reprimanding a classmate of theirs at another table on the other side of a bookcase. Rachel smiled at him, biting her lip while she studied his face for a moment.

“That. Is what you get when you tell the truth,” she said.

#raven #robin #robrae #teen titans #robrae week #robraeweek #robraeweek2021 #robrae week 2021 #fanfic

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