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howlsofter · 1 year ago

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“You want this. You were just begging for it.”

Boyfriend!JohnWick gets tired of his bratty gf

quick one shot, smut, soft dom John wick

2.7k words

I don’t get to see him too often. Likely way more than the average person, but not as much as I’d like. Before, we both had our respective contracts, but I’ve been staying lowkey recently. I have more than enough money saved up, and as long as I’m not summoned by the boss I try to stay out of side work. For now.

It’s dangerous having John around, I know, but I can’t help it. I just want to see him so bad, and he wants to too or he wouldn’t keep coming back.

He arrived the night before, unexpectedly. I knew it was him from the peep hole. He was looked exhausted, waiting stiff in my living room as I air fried him frozen taquitos. It takes him awhile to decompress, to crack through John the assassin. I nudge at his foot under the table as he eats, peering out the window of my tiny kitchen. He leans back when he’s finished, looking to me for the first time since he’s sat. His eyes sink under the table, registering my comfortable look. He’s seen me like this before, old black sweatpants, a tshirt, some fuzzy socks. I need to buy him a comfy outfit.

“Yummy?” I ask, he moves under the table, trapping my feet between his dark leather shoes.

“Delicious,” he gives me the satisfaction of a response. I tap my short nails against the table top before reaching out for my water.

“Are you hurt?” He kinda shrugs, finally pushing off his heavy jacket. Seemingly unscathed, uncommon but good news. He straightened out his shoulders and relaxed back against the kitchen chair.

Getting undressed for the night, I slide off my sweatpants, watching John undo his shirt.

“Is it hard dealing with the fact that I’m stronger than you now?” I tease him, breaking the silence. I was used to it by now, but I’m not scared of breaking it with John, he he doesn’t want to engage he simply won’t.

“Maybe it would be, if you were,” he responds, turning his head to the side as he speaks but not looking at me.

“Don’t lie to yourself, John,” I say as earnest as possible. John doesn’t reply, sliding off his shirt and kicking off his shoes.

He crawls up on the bed, still wearing his slacks. He reaches out to grab me and I dodge him, sliding over and squealing. He moves quicker, getting a hold of my thigh and easily wrapping his large hand around it. He drags me over so swiftly, I almost don’t feel it.

I start to dodge him again as he goes for my arms, I go for his as well. I catch his left wrist but he twists out of my grip and catches my right hand. It knocks me off guard and he’s already disarmed my left, pinning my arms above me on the bed with one hand, his other holding down my hips.

I shift around and try to release my hands, but I can only get him to give a few inches before he’s pushing them back further into the memory foam.

“Oh, you’re so much stronger than me?” He teases now, pushing his body weight into me. I sink back farther, continuing to struggle. The more I do, the weaker I feel. He’s been watching me fight him the whole time, a small smirk shadowing his lips. “Say it. Say I’m stronger.”

I shake my head no, closing my eyes so his can’t stare into my soul. He tsks, exposed skin warm up against my torso, his jeans rough against my thighs. He uses his thigh to push my legs apart but I fight him.

With the hand he had against my hips he reaches down, his body weight holding me in place enough. Using his leg and his hand he continued to try to force them open, but my thigh strength is surprisingly stronger than my arm. With no luck, he sinks into my neck, pressing a kiss there before he’s biting me.

I whine out in surprise, pleasure and pain, going weak under him for just long enough for John to invade.

He slid between my unclothed legs, pressing his crotch right up against me. “Not going to say it?” He asks again, I shake my head again, eyes still closed. John catches my jaw with his hand, making me look at him. I blink back in shock.

“I know you were teasing anyways,” his hold on my chin loosens, stroking the soft skin connected to my neck with his fingers, “instead, tell me how bad you want me right now.”

I smile a little, because I want to tell him. But something inside me begs for me to disobey. “I don’t,” I argue, responding to quick to think it through. John actually chuckled a little, but I could tell I was starting to actually piss him off.

He grinds against me, running his hand up under my shirt and over my ribs.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses, the zipper of his jeans pressed against me, the friction rubbing just right. He massages my skin under his hand, continuing the motions as I mewled and arched to feel him.

He pulls away suddenly, releasing my hands and sitting up, unpinning me from the bed. “Fine, if you dont want it…”

I reach up to grab him quickly, one hand on his upper arm and the other on his belt loop, pulling him back into position.

“Who said I didn’t?” I ask, he reaches down to jeans.

“You.” He scoffs, “tell me you do then,” he undoes the zipper and slips them past his thighs without breaking eye contact, kicking them off. He still refused to touch me, hovering, waiting.

I whine first, thrashing in a mini tantrum before I laid flat, “fuck, John…”

It’s so hard to just admit it, even when it’s painfully obvious, “please, please fuck me. I want it so bad,” I say it quietly, pulling him in closer with my thighs and lifting my hips to press my panties back against his boxers. His cock is so hard, the tip peeking up passed the waistband and pressed against his stomach. It was thicker than most, enough to fill me up completely, it was the length that drove me mad. It left me soar for days after, I could always feel right up in me where John’s cock had pushed the limits.

I hooked onto his hips, rubbing up the length of his cock through the materials, John swallows, still just looking over me in thought.

“Really, baby?” He finally responds, breaking into a soft smile as he coos for me to submit. He catches my hips, his hands taking up most of the space there. I wiggle in his hold just a little, enough to annoy him so he’ll me still.

I clench my jaw, nodding slightly. It’s not enough for John, “beg me more, if you really want it,” he commands in a low voice. I bite my lip and suddenly John is on my neck again. He’s sucking this time, biting but not rough. It feels soooo fucking good I’m whining in seconds, trying to grind against him again but his hands hold me firm. My neck is incredibly sensitive, my pussy throbbing and stomach aching in desire the longer John kissed up. I pushed him away with my arms but his chest doesn’t budge.

“I really want it,” I breathe out, “I really really really want it, please,” John stops biting and lapping and presses a kiss against the spot, sitting up to catch my lips. He releases his grip on me to go for my underwear, pulling them down without hurry. I pull my legs up to help him take them off, his boxers next. I wrap back around him and reach out to touch him, stroking him a few times before he breaks the kiss to swag my hand away. He takes it up to his mouth, pressing my palm there against his lips in a small kiss as he takes his cock.

“Are you going to be good?” He asks me, letting go of my hand and reaching down, sliding his fingers through the folds of my pussy. He slowly rubs the top, small circles over the area of my clit, I hum and shift closer to his touch. He’s never this talkative in real life, he’s told me before he’s trying to savor the moments. He doesn’t get to see me like this in real life, whiny, submissive. I only get like this for him, and he annoys the brat right out of me.

I hate it though, it makes me blush with every command. It’s embarrassing, giving him so much power over me, but when I do he feels so good.

I’m already wet, he lets go of his cock to reach into me. His finger slides in easy as I answer a soft ‘yes’ and moan. He curls up inside me, pressing the finger on my clit with a little more pressure as he reaches up against my gspot repeatedly. It feels so good already, I press down against them, holding my breath.

“Fuck me, please,” I beg him under my breathe, staggering out the words. John doesn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled his fingers from inside of me and wiped them off on his cock, the tip leaking. He strokes himself a few times, looking down over me. I lay almost flat on the bed, using most of my strength to hold my hips up in the air, thigh on either side of John who sat up on his knees. I watch intently as he reaches out for my thigh, helping support me as his other goes to press the tip of his cock in between my folds. He carefully drags his cock against me, not entering me and letting it get slick. It feels good as a start, he moves up to holding my hips, gasping quietly each time he slid against me. When he felt I was ready he took his cock again, slowly pressing the head against my entrance, his other hand steadying and gripping me tighter to make up for the lack of support as he pushed the head into me. I let out a soft cry, it hurts for the moment, he pushed in just enough to where he can slide out and in without pulling completely out. I’m trying my best to hold my hips up, the farther he presses into me, the easier it is for him to continue and the better it feels. He eases in with a few more slow strokes, bending over and pressing open mouth kisses against my collarbones and neck.

He’s almost completely in when I reach my limit, my knees closing up to push him back. I whine and he gives me a moment to recouperait, a hand trying to keep my legs from moving. He continues his slow pace, still inching deeper and deeper into me, I continue to fight with him.

“You want this, you were just begging for it,” he reminds me, pulling out and grabbing my legs, he pins them together by my knee and pushes me back against the bed, my knees together at my side, he uses one hand to hold them down. His other slides over my ass, he guides himself back into me and I stretch out over the bed. As he gets deeper I reach up for him again but he’s already ready to catch my hand, bending over as he hits inside of me.

I suck the air inbetween my teeth quickly, bracing as he pushes farther up against me. He’s stayed so stoic but fully in he groans, his jaw slightly ajar as he continues to fuck me. It hurts so good, each time he ruts up inside of me I ache.

I can’t stop my moans, fighting his hold til he’s gripping me so hard his knuckles are white. He’s gained his composure mostly, I cry into the sheets and he lets go of my hands, brushing my hair back from my neck.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises, slamming to me again, he’s breathing heavy, his voice almost shaky.

I can’t even respond, nodding as I gasp and swallow, not even making an effort to sit up. “Fucking brat, look at you now,” he slows down, not hitting me quite as deep. Bending over to lick my nipple, sucking on it for a moment before he’s kissing me again. He slowly fucks half into me, holding my hips up for me this time. It feels nice after being used, I look up at him lazily, still on my side.

He separates my legs without any resistance from me, sliding his thump up against my clit. He rubs in careful circles and I close my eyes, focusing on the pleasure.

John is enamored, he can’t rip his eyes from my face, speeding up his motions. The more desperate I get the more cocky he seems, awwing at me as I try to rock with him. “Feel good?” I nod. “Tell me,” he almost growled.

“No,” I joke through my breathing, John snaps into me and I cringe completely. It knocks the breath out of me, “yes~ fuck, it feels so good,” it falls out of me easy as he continues to go slow.

My moans get higher pitch and John speeds up slightly, he nods as I whimper for him, pulling him closer. He kisses me again, sweet and hot. It was sloppy but his lips felt so nice against mine, both of us breathing heavy. He nudges my nose, keeping our faces close as I get closer. My legs and body get shaky, my hold on John’s upper arm tightens and my arm I’d tossed loosely over his neck is now forcing him to stay in my proximity.

My mouth is open, breathing in short gasps and letting out stuttered exhales. I try to keep myself quiet, I have apartment neighbors, but I can��t help my calls for John. He loves them too, each time I repeat his name in a beg, getting closer and closer, John replied back to me with a soft sound like reassurance. I squeeze around his cock and feel him fill everything, John is controlling his own breathing manually.

When I cum I go silent, going stiff as John slows inside of me. His thumb continues in speed, hips carefully pressing as full as he can up in me as I squeezed and spasmed around him. His thumb only lets up when I start to twitch away from him, completely overstimulated. John whispers praises against my neck, kisses me and slowly starts to fuck me again. I mewl in exhaustion, asking him to be careful is just begging for him to be rough, instead I’m watching him. Eyes half lidded, he feels really really good still, but each stroke makes my muscles tight. John’s being sweet to me now, careful solid strokes as he works to pleasure himself. He touches me everywhere and I reach out to touch him back, dragging my hand over his scarred torso.

He’s getting closer when he picks up, sloppier sharper strokes. John kisses me messy before his hand is around my neck. He never grips my neck tight, I’ve told him he can but he refuses, but just the placement makes me feel weak. He holds me down again, “such a good fucking girl,” he mumbles before he’s using me again. I’m too weak to fight the stimulation, throwing my respect for the neighbors out the window as I cried out. John’s hand went from my neck to my mouth, cupping my cheek and forcing his thumb into it. He looks down at me in pleasure, I bite down on it but he doesn’t flinch.

He drops his head, looking down at our bodies meeting before he’s steadied. A few long slow strokes and a sudden inhale and he’s cumming deep inside of me. I can feel it, each twice of his cock more warm cum coated my bruised insides.

John exhales and kisses me a final time before pulling out of me. "I'm going to actually fight you next time."

#john wick: chapter 4 #john wick smut #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick one shot #john wick gif #john wick dom #fanfiction #smut #x reader #fem reader

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billthedrake · 9 months ago

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THE BOARDROOM (PART FOUR)

This chapter probably works better having read the previous ones.

ENGLISH AND ITALIAN TAILORING

I had been spending the winter taking some time away from The Boardroom gatherings. Some of it was giving Ethan his space and not trying to claim The Boardroom as my space, even if it kind of was. I knew my ex would flourish there, and at that point he needed it more than I did.

Besides, I was doing a lot of travel and work had been crazy busy. I had made sure to prioritize my gym and exercise time, as well as my diet. After that I didn't have a lot of energy for anything else.

I enjoyed a lot of masturbation time, for sure. I experimented with watching non-suit porn. I got off to a lot of it, but generally enjoyed going back to the tried and true suit scenes.

The Boardroom had a series of gatherings that didn't do it for me. Power Suit Night. Vests Night. Sheer Socks Night. Fashion Week. I declined at each RSVP and gave other guys a spot.

I even missed the semi-annual Executive Board Meeting, since I was out of town for work. But I was pleased to hear from Ethan that he'd been promoted to Junior Executive. His new suits and regular attendance in my absence had paid off.

Now I realized I was due to host. And maybe it was the increasingly spring weather, but my libido was bouncing back like crazy. A Boardroom party sounded like just the thing. And I had my English-tailored pinstripe suit waiting to make its debut.

I sent out the email:

"Hello Gentlemen of the Boardroom - Next meeting is devoted to English and Italian tailoring. Priority to the men with the real deal. Soft shoulder or English draping. Slim silhouette or waist suppression. RSVP English or Italian wear. Waitlist of others who appreciate European tailoring. Men not in English or Italian clothing can wear only accessories at the Boardroom this time."

"That's genius, Bill," Ken wrote, with his RSVP for Italian.

Marty had an Italian sport coat and trousers, which was good for me.

Kevin was the only other exec to RSVP, but didn't have an outfit.

But the Junior Execs and New Hires came through. Darren said he'd wear an English suit. I wasn't surprised to hear he was the only other regular with one but as it happened, an Interviewee was visiting from England and expressed interest.

John was a Junior Exec I'd not seen too much lately. After his promotion, he'd started dating someone exclusively. I guessed that was now a thing of the past, since he responded that he had an Italian suit he'd love to wear. One the Newer Hires, another Mike - Mike 2 - chimed in that he had just come back from a destination wedding in Italy and had something appropriate.

I didn't want Kevin to be the only one in just accessories, so I admitted another non-suit wearing guy, a New Hire, Rick.

Since it had been a while since I hosted, I splurged on a nice suite at the Four Seasons Downtown. I normally channeled my spare money into attire, not hotel rooms, but I figured I had saved money by not going on dates the last half a year.

I showed up early and got everything ready. Setting out lube, towels and spare tissues, along with some glasses of water to help with clean up.

Mike - Mike 2 as we called him since he's joined since Doctor Mike - was the first to show up. I didn't really know him, but he was good looking, kind of a regular 30yo gay guy, fit in that New York way. But his suit made him look killer. Nice rounded shoulders, tan color that showed off his brown hair and blue eyes.

"God, fuck, that's a nice suit, Bill," he said as he walked into the suite. I stepped back and let him get a look. Yeah, I was proud of this one. It was British tailoring, definitely, but I'd chosen a fabric and silhouette that wouldn't look too out of place in New York. I'd paired it with a pink shirt with a spread collar, a windsor knot on my repp tie, and for shoes I went with my Edward Greens.

"Thanks," I said. "You're looking amazing... nice introduction, I'd say."

"Agreed," he smiled. I could tell he was throwing hard in his suit, which I loved. I mean, all of us guys in the Boardroom had the kink, but some men just really embraced the horniness of a good suit. Mike cocked a grin. "We should probably wait for the others to fool around?"

"We don't gotta," I said. And like that, I stepped up and ran my hand along his shoulder, the light-weight wool perfectly molded to his strong delts. His hand went right for my crotch, working up my boner in my trousers.

We kissed. It was a hungry, horny kiss as our hands took in each other's suit.

Just then a knock came. I laughed as I broke up the impetuous make out session with Mike. Marty was there, with beefy Mark. Marty's sport coat was great, but maybe paled in comparison to Mike's full-on suit. Mark was in casual clothes, but as he came in, he began removing everything but a pair of socks and sock suspenders. On his meaty build, the look was pretty damn hot, especially because his cock filled out to full staff showing off for us.

Darren arrived next. He had more that English country gentleman look, the brown-green plaid looking incredible with his tall lean frame and chocolate-brown skin. Marty was already pawing at the coat and trousers. He and Darren always had some chemistry, and the English attire was drawing the man like a moth to a flame.

Over in one corner of the suite, nearly-naked, beefy Mark was on his knees, sucking Mike in full suited attire.

I enjoyed watching, squeezing my crotch, then I decided to join the action, stepping up to Mike and smiling at the cute guy. "He's good, huh?" I asked.

Mike nodded. "Why don't you pull your dick out and see for yourself." OK, Mike 2 had a domish edge that surprised me.

I grinned, reaching down to do just that. "Oh I've had his mouth," I said. I wagged my hard cock in Mark's direction and nudged it against his cheek. The guy got the picture.

"It's been a while, Bill," he said, looking up from my dick and up to my face.

"Yep," I replied. "Why don't you show me what I've been missing."

"Fuck yeah," he hissed. Mark loved sucking dick. The more the better, in his book. I grunted as I felt that talented mouth descend on my pole. It had been way too long since I'd come to Boardroom night.

Mike laughed as he watched my reaction. I looked at him and I felt that magnetic charge again. We kissed and I felt his hand run along my lapel. I was getting way too into this, but thankfully Mark pulled off and started blowing Mike. I pulled back from the kiss and looked over at the other guys.

Kevin was here now, and was on all fours on one of the beds next to Marty. Both men had their trousers pulled down and were making out while Darren went back and forth, slowly fucking in full country-estate wear.

And I noticed that Rick had arrived. I gathered he was a finance guy, from his demeanor and previous attire. But he didn't have on any clothing now, not really, given my accessories-only stipulation. And damn, the dude had a body that wouldn't quit. Ripped and toned, not huge but densely muscular build for his 5'10" body. It was an Ethan-caliber body, and the realization made me shiver a bit. Before Ethan, my taste had run fit-normal. My ex Kevin.... my Boardroom crush Pete. Regular NYC guys, my age.

Maybe it was silly to go for perfect, but it was fun to watch as Rick strutted over in just his over-the-calf socks, English-made tan oxfords, a tie tied around his neck and an expensive Swiss watch on his wrist. The only thing keeping him from being porn-star material was a smaller than average dick, which was still pretty damn appealing in its rock-hard spike as he walked over.

"Hey," he greeted, giving me a nod, but his attention more on Mike 2.

"Hey Rick," Mike grinned. They'd clearly met before. And maybe more.

They kissed.

"Nice suit, bro," Rick hissed, now running his hand along Mike's front. It was fun to watch the spark of sexual chemistry between these two late-20s guys, but yeah, I was gonna get left out.

Mark had even started sucking Rick's bone, taking advantage of the smaller size to really go to town on it. Meanwhile, Mike and Rick made out taking some breaks so Mike could watch his Boardroom buddy admire his new suit.

I should have just left them but it was hot to watch. So I stroked and stood near. Mark had gone back to Mike's bigger cock. It was hot to see him kneeling in his socks and sock suspenders, the hairness of his legs a contrast to the sheer sock fabric. Rick arched his back and I could then see that Mike had his hand wedged back into his ass, fingering and playing around with Rick's hole.

"I wanna use that ass, man," Mike grunted.

Rick nodded and like that, Mike was pushing Mark off his dick. The two didn't even acknowledge me and Mark as they made their way over to the spare bed.

"Sorry, Bill, looks like you're stuck with me," Mark said as he stood up. His dick was hard and leaking. Even if I wasn't a huge socks fetishist, I had to admit the sock garters looked great on his beefier build. Kind of that feminine/masculine contrast.

I flashed him a smile. "A-OK with me," I replied politely. "It's been a while since we connected here."

He nodded, stepping up. We didn't kiss. Partly because that wasn't Mark's MO - he was all about cock - but partly because we didn't have that natural chemistry. Still, his hands were on my suit coat.

"You have a really incredible suit," he said. "It really should be getting more attention."

He was right. About the suit, maybe, but in particular about what I was feeling wistful about. Maybe I was becoming one of the respected founding executives. A man with a great suit but not so imminently fuckable, you know?

"Wanna give it some attention?" I smirked.

I let Mark feel me up, and I got off on his near naked body in contrast to my suited one. It was fun, seeing him sensually touch the fabric and massage my body beneath it. But eventually his goal was clearly.

"OK if I suck you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, that'd be hot."

This was more transactional. I had a big dick and Mark loved to suck. This is what a sex party often was, if you stripped away the suit fetish. Two men just getting their rocks off.

And Mark was a good cocksucker. Not too fast but he knew how to work me up to a good cum before long. I held onto his head, not roughly but as a sign I was about to blast. The man moaned around my cock, telling me to let it rip. I did, blasting several hot rounds down his throat.

He milked me and worked the dribbles slowly before giving my dick a parting kiss. "I love sucking off a man in a suit," he said, taking one last look before getting up. "OK if I go find another?" he asked.

"Have at it," I grinned, taking a seat to have a break. I knew I wouldn't have another in me, but I'd enjoy seeing the guys pair up in suits. Besides, since I was hosting, I couldn't really leave.

It didn't take Mark long to find another dick to suck. Darren had gone, and Marty was getting slowly fucked by newcomer John, in a navy Italian suit. But Kevin was alone, like me watching the action while he stood in an Italian sport coat and tie, naked from the waist down. Mark got right into to place and started sucking while Kevin watched the other guys.

I looked over at the other bed. Mike 2 had clearly gotten off inside Rick and the two were on the bed, making out as a third guy in a full navy suit was now on top of Rick, working his way inside the hunk. I take it was the English guy, the Interviewee.

I watched them fuck. It was an amazing sight. The English lad had his trousers pulled down mid-thigh so I could see some of his dimpled ass flex as he thrust into the hot finance bro beneath him.

Mike 2 lay beside them, his dick now retreated back into his crotch but his eyes still showing excitement as he ran his hands up and down the English guy's coat. I don't know that his suit was overly high-quality but the English tailoring was novel, and the wool fit his form like a glove.

I turned over to see Kevin's eyes on the live sex show. These Boardroom meeting were 50 percent clothing fetish and 50 percent old fashioned sex party. Well, maybe it started out as 80/20, but increasingly it felt there was a moment like this, where some pairing would become the center of attention.

Kevin's brown eyes met mine in recognition. He was my ex from my early 30s, and to this day we had a kind of telepathy. He was thinking the same thing as me, and he was getting turned on. I watched the guy as he humped into Beefy Mark's mouth and started cumming.

It was a great spectacle to watch. I didn't really have the hots for Kevin these days, but his love of suited sex still could get me going.

The only bad thing was I missed the English guy's orgasm. He was sliding off the bed and hiking up his trousers while he fetched a spare cloth to clean off his hard uncut prick still jutting up from a creamy white midsection.

"Heya," he greeted as he walked over to me, tucking in and buckling back up.

"Hi," I said. "You must be Gavin."

"Indeed I am," he said. He reminded me of English Ben who I met at a Boardroom party and whom I reconnected with on my last trip to London. "Great party."

"Thanks," I said. "Great to have newcomers. You visiting New York?"

Maybe because we'd both gotten off, it felt fine to be chatty. The guy picked up a water bottle for a swig. "Yah, here on work, but added a couple days for holiday."

"Glad you could come," I said. "You were fun to watch." OK, maybe I was being flirty, and maybe I had a weakness for the accent.

"Thanks." He grinned and took another sip. I could tell he was flattered but that I wasn't his type. "I'm going to get going. But OK if I reach out again, next time I'm in town?"

"Absolutely," I said. And I watched Gavin leave the suite.

In fact, the guys pretty much were filing out pretty quickly. I didn't expect anyone to stay over, but as Rick and Mike 2 left together, with a clear chemistry between them, I kind of wished I wasn't going to spend the night in this hotel suite alone.

SUSPENDERS NIGHT

"Sorry I didn't make the party, Bill," Ethan said in our Monday workout. I was up to two sessions with him a week. No more comped ones - I paid him the full fee, though I gathered he socked some of that away in a special savings account dedicated to his clothing habit. It was wild to see a guy like him, young and athletic, embrace the suit fetish lifestyle. I sometimes wonder if that was New York, the way it nurtured a subculture like ours. Elsewhere Ethan certainly would have gotten off on suited men but maybe it wouldn't have developed for him like it did.

I set down the dumbbells he had me lifting. I gave him a friendly but direct look. "It's working out best that we keep to separate parties I suppose."

He nodded in agreement, then added. "I know. It's just, I guess that's the first Boardroom meeting you've hosted since I've joined. I feel bad for not going."

I felt a twinge of something. Regret, guilt, sadness, all rolled into one. But I tried to keep a poker face. "Like I say, Ethan, it's OK. For real."

He seemed to be trying on his poker face too. "I didn't have any English or Italian suit to wear anyway."

I grinned and Ethan knew why. That meant he'd have been mostly naked. That was kind of our thing when we were an item, and fortunately he laughed.

"Yeah you wouldn't have minded that," he said. I don't know, somehow the flirting helped break the tensions some. He set me up on the cable machine for the next set and said quietly, "I have been saving up for some proper English shoes."

"Yeah?" I asked. Ethan was a big foot/shoe guy, so it wasn't a surprise.

He nodded. "I know you'd advise against it, Bill, you know focus my money elsewhere, but it's what's gonna make me happy."

"You should go for it, Ethan. Splurge on those bad boys." I did my set, which was harder than I expected. In his own laid back way, Ethan was really pushing me today. I stepped back after and continued my thought. "You know I don't have to approve of your purchases... I mean, I hope you don't think I'm controlling."

He shrugged. "Not controlling. More, I just... well, you were kind of a mentor to me, and you still are... I don't want to think I don't respect your advice."

"My advice is to enjoy the hell out of your new shoes."

Ethan laughed. "I don't have 'em yet, Bill."

"Is this a way of saying your going to raise your rate on me?" I teased.

His eyes twinkled. God he was a cute fucker. "Nah.... but if you ever feel like squeezing an extra session in...."

"Let's do it," I said.

That surprised Ethan. "I was just kidding, Bill. I didn't mean..."

"I know. But it'll be good. Ethan's shoe fund. And an extra installment on my beach bod plan."

"If you're sure," he said.

"As long as you can work around my schedule," I said. Work had been pretty hectic lately.

"I will," he said. His whole posture was more confident now. I think it was the excitement of getting his shoes, but something else.

He put me through the paces for a few more sets and as we were wrapping up, he pulled out his phone to schedule my third session for the week.

"You sure, Bill?" he asked.

"Sure I'm sure."

He smiled and we figured out a good time. Then, as I was about to head to the locker room to change, Ethan asked in a low voice. "You going to suspenders night?"

This was George's turn at hosting and he'd put out a call for suspenders/braces. The great thing about the idea was how open it was to different clothing styles.

"I was thinking about it," I said. "But if you're going..." I hadn't explicitly made an agreement with Ethan to avoid the meetups he went to, but it was clear that I did.

"I want to," he said. "But you don't have to say no on my account. I think we've been pretty mature about stuff."

We had. Ethan especially. I was the one who'd called things off, and he seemed to get back on his game just fine. I gathered that he might not be dating anyone serious but he was getting back into the dating scene. Good for him.

"I guess, so," I said.

***

It had been too long since I fucked Pete. But when he showed up at the Boardroom Meeting and we made eye contact, we just knew the chemistry was still there. We played with some of the other guys - Mike 1, the young doctor, who was in his trad element, and Rob, who was in a really fucking nice suit - subtle pinstripe, bengal stripe shirt, and solid gaberdine tie. Unlike me the guys had showier suspenders - Rob's beneath his suit coat, Mike and Pete showing off their suspenders in shirt sleeves. Pete had white cuffs on an oxford stripe shirt, which was a nice vintage touch. His body was pretty fantastic in it too.

He had some group kissing and stroking and BJ swapping before Pete and I took the arrival of George to pull away from the guys to take to the bed.

Ethan was on the other bed, in just his dress shirt and tie, as Tom Stephenson lie on top of him, fully clothed and kissing and thrusting into my ex. That somehow ignited my jealousy, but I pushed that thought right back down. I was going to be the grown up.

Besides Pete was way hot. He was pulling off his suspenders and undoing his trousers. Turning around he shucked his pants and got into doggy position. I was very grateful at that moment that Pete's husband let him come into the city to play on occasion. And a little mad at myself for the idea I'd love to steal the guy away.

I got in place and started munching Pete's hole. Nice and clean, it seemed to suck my tongue in. It had been too long for him, too, I knew. I took my time, taking a pause now and then to admire his ass and to lube my dick up. But pretty soon, my cock ached to fuck. I crawled up onto Pete's body, feeling the heat between his shirt and mine as I pushed my dick into place.

"Please Bill," he hissed, at a volume only I could hear.

His hole was perfectly tight as I entered him. But the excitement was all of Pete. His perfectly meaty bod, his handsomeness, his clothes. How much he wanted me. Maybe I was going too hard and too fast but Pete bucked against me a couple of times to give me the green light. I took it. My humping got harder and faster as I kissed along his neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his shirt color against my cheek.

I was getting hot, too hot in my suit, but that also fed my lust. I shot, hard.

"Yes," Pete sighed, now pulling at his dick while I did my best to keep pushing in and other. Not as fast or urgent, but the slow stroke was probably better for his pleasure.

I felt the man get his orgasm beneath me, and I gave him another, final kiss of appreciation to the neck.

We uncoupled and enjoyed embracing and making out in our clothing. I was aware other guys were having fun around us, and a part of me wanted to show Ethan I could have some fun too.

Finally, Pete pulled back and gave a wistful smile. "I gotta get going." By now, some were leaving the party, and I'd lost track of time.

"Yeah," I said. I was hard again now, and my cock was sticking out. I wasn't usually good for getting off twice at one of these gatherings, but it had been a few days since I'd cum, and being with Pete had me amped up.

Pete reached down and grabbed my hardon, stroking it and admiring how it jutted out of my suit trousers. "Want me to take care of this before I go?"

I did, but I also wanted some more time to recharge. "Nah," I said. I leaned in and placed my mouth at his ear. "But fucking you was perfect," I whispered. "I missed being in you."

I felt his body shiver, and I felt bad. I was pushing the envelope and maybe enjoying doing that too much.

He pulled away. His own dick was firm and he did the work of tucking it in as he sat up in bed. He gave me a once over as he shook his head. "Great seeing you, Bill," he said.

I tried to apologize non verbally, patting his shirt-clad back. "I'll let you go," I said softly.

"Another kiss?" he asked.

I met him for just that.

When he finally left I was rock hard. George and one of the New Hires, Matt, were making out on the bed, caught up in their own connection. I thought of joining them, but didn't want to impose or be the third wheel.

Just then, I saw Ethan walk out of the bathroom, face flushed. He'd put his suit back on, suspenders and all, and retied his tie. He had a sheepish, shy look on his face, until he saw my boner jutting out and then he broke into a grin.

I couldn't help but laugh in response. We'd been trying to compartmentalize things, but here we were now, face to face, the sexual activity of the evening apparent.

Ethan's brown eyes met mine, searching for permission. I'm not sure if I gave it to him, or he was going to wait for it. He took a couple of steps forward and then crouched in front of me. My dick twitched as he did and Ethan took in the sight with a smile. I thought he was going to suck me right then and there but instead he scooted back and leaned down further. Kissing one shoe, then the other. I'd warn some brogued cordovan Aldens and Ethen sucked in the smell of the leather before licking.

"Fuck," he hissed, as he used his tie to wipe off the spit. I could sense how turned on he was to be able to indulge his shoe fetish. To my knowledge none of the Board members, at least the regulars, were into that. Ethan knew I wouldn't mind him having some shoe play, and would even get off on his horniness.

"Jesus, guys, you're getting kinky," I heard George say.

He and Matt were now lying back in bed, their clothes dishelved and their bodies clearly ih post-coital relaxation.

I saw Ethan flinch and blush. I gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and looked back up at the other guys. "It's something I've wanted to try," I lied.

George nodded. "Well, Matt here's big into wristwatches. Can't keep his eyes off this baby," he said, holding up his arm, sporting an expensive watch.

Matt blushed some, and I felt bad, like this should be the place where guys could just enjoy their kinks. I gave a reassuring smile. "I bet you'd like a wristwatch theme night, huh?" I asked Matt.

"Fuck yeah," he grinned. The guy was younger, maybe a few years older than Ethan, and cute. Professional gay guy who get to let loose some at these events.

My hardon had flagged by that point and Ethan had stood up. The spell was broken. "I'll probably get going," I announced as I tucked in and zipped up. I did my best to make myself presentable. I turned to Ethan. "You staying?"

It was a question laden with a lot of possibilities and I could Ethan trying to read me with his eyes. I reached behind him and tapped his suited ass. A quick gesture, but he knew I was up for fooling around.

Without missing a beat he turned to the other guys. "I think I'll head out too. It was a great Meeting, George," he said. "One of the best."

George grinned. He placed his arm around Matt. George was always after new meat and had a preference for younger guys. I had the feeling the two were going to enjoy the night together.

"Seriously, Matt," I said as I picked up my phone and slid it into my suit pocket. "We'll think about the watch idea. We haven't done that before." The guy gave a smile.

We bid good night, and Ethan and I walked silently to the elevators, smiles on our faces as we fed off our lust.

"What are we doing, Boss?" he asked. I could tell he was afraid to pose the question, but someone had to think with his head and not his dick.

The door opened and we got in. There were other people in, so Ethan and I rode down in baited breath, silent.

We were out on the street before I spoke. "If it's just fun, I'll deal with that," I said. "But I want to be your boyfriend, Ethan. For real."

That caught him off guard. "What about just now? With Pete?" he asked softly. I could tell he was as jealous to see me with Pete as I was with Tom. Maybe more.

"I don't know what to say," I said. "I mean, it was the Boardroom."

He shrugged. "You guys have a thing. Everyone knows it, Bill."

I thought about it. Thought about why I felt a connection to Ethan so soon after having sex with Pete. "It's only because Pete and I never actually dated. But say the word I won't so much as lay a hand on him."

I saw a smile form on Ethan's lips as he looked over at me. "You're serious, aren't you?"

I nodded, feeling vulnerable because I was overcome by how suddenly my revelation had hit me. I knew I'd suppressed a lot of my feelings for Ethan. "I was an asshole before. But I miss you Ethan."

His face got a real emotional seriousness. "Can I kiss you, Boss?"

I nodded. And right there in the middle of the sidewalk we kiss. Softly, just a little tongue.

"Damn," I said.

"Yeah," Ethan sighed. He ran his fingers along my lapel. I knew we'd go home and have some amazing suit sex, and that made the emotional part of this even more powerful. "You know, when you stood up for me earlier... for the shoe thing... that was kind of great."

I winked. "I like how you show me new things, stud." I patted his shoulder. "You wanna head to my place and have some shoe play?"

He shook his head. "How bout my place, Bill? You never come over there."

There was a reason for that. Ethan lived in a tiny walk up apartment. But it was time for me to give as well as take. "All right," I said.

***

Ethan's place was tidy but pretty fucking small. But there was no place I'd rather be at that moment. He lay on the floor on a yoga-workout mat, in his Brooks Brothers charcoal suit and striped shirt, paisley pocket square and wool tie, his hard dick sticking out of his crotch. I slowly, teasingly ran my shoe along his boner as he looked up at me hungrily.

"God, Bill," he hissed.

My own dick was out of my suit pants again, sticking out straight, but I wasn't doing anything with it. I was enjoying giving Ethan his jollies.

"You like that leather," I said. Half question, half comment.

"God yes," he said. "You think I'm messed up?" he half asked in return.

I shook my head. "Stud, if my shoes are what keeps you interested in me, that works for me."

He grunted as he watched me bend down to unlace my Aldens. "It's not like that," he objected.

I grinned and winked as I slid my shoe off. "If it is, that's OK, Ethan," I said. Then I knelt down, still fully in my suit and slid that cordovan Alden oxford over Ethan's erection.

"Shit," he gasped as his dick made contact with the interior leather.

I leaned in and kissed him, briefly. "This comfortable?" I asked as I slid it up and down.

He nodded. This was turning him on, a lot. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing this," he said in a clipped voice.

"Do it," I instructed him.

Ethan's eyes grew wider as he met mine in silent sexual communication and his face grew redder. He was a cute and very hunky young man, and I was lucky I even had a chance with him. I was lucky that he was crushed out on me. And he only grew more handsome when he had his orgasm.

"UUUNNNMMMHFF!" he growled in release. Then falling back into a relaxed position, he broke into a smile. "Damn, that was incredible," he finally said.

I pulled off my shoe, trying not to overstimulate his prick. Normally, the first thing I'd be doing is cleaning it, but I not held it up and looked inside. Ethan had cum a lot and I could see his pearly seed drip down from the toe to the padded heel area. I shocked Ethan and shocked myself by bringing it closer, up to my face, and sticking my tongue in to taste his fresh seed.

"Fuck, Boss," he gasped. "No way am I going soft now," he said with a laugh.

I handed him my shoe. "Think this puppy will keep you turned on enough to let me fuck you?"

Ethan was younger than me and had more of a sexual stamina. But this was purely Ethan in overheated mode. He'd never had a man indulge his foot fetish like I was doing now. I watched as he excitedly reached down to undo his suspenders. I helped him take off his Allen Edmonds, plainer brown cap toes, then pull off his dark gray trousers. His dick was angry red and overstimulated but still hard.

"On the bed?" I asked. There was something fun and naughty about having sex on his bedroom floor, but I knew a mattress would be more comfortable than that thin mat.

We got up on the bed, and I met him for a kiss, deeper this time. I wasn't going to rush this, but I knew I had to be back inside Ethan, that evening. I'd be fucking on Tom Stephenson's sperm and god knows if anyone else's, but we could deal with that.

As Ethan wrapped his legs around my waist and I ran my cock around his hole, feeling the still slick traces of lube in his crack, I looked into his eyes.

"We'll figure out the Boardroom stuff, if you still wanna go," I said, a quiver in my voice. "But let me know what you need from me, Ethan."

He nodded, excited. "You, too, Bill." I could see in his face and hear in his voice the man's desire to be wanted. I hadn't given Ethan that before.

I pushed into him. His hole was relaxed and wet. And even if I was jealous of Tom Stephenson, I was glad for the extra lubrication. Ethan's hole felt nice and wet and snug against my thrusting prick, and the man was primed to take the urgency of my fuck.

I humped away, and Ethan looked up into my eyes and felt up my suit coat and tie. From the evening, I was sweating into my clothes and it would all need a good dry clean. It would be worth it.

"Faster, Boss," he urged. This wasn't about him, but rather his desire to see me get off.

I nodded to him, wordlessly communicating that I was close.

I had both hands on the bed, but I pulled one up to start feeling up Ethan's tie. He looked really fucking perfect in a repp tie. Clean-cut, masculine, like an athlete at an awards banquet or a small-town businessman.

I choked back my grunts but Ethan knew I was cumming hard. I powered my hips in and locked in place as I seeded him up. His words of encouragement as strong as the hands feeling up my suit.

I finally pulled out and let his legs to the side as I eased down on his suited body. We were maybe messed up that we needed to play dress up to have sex, but we were messed up together. This felt right.

I could even feel the guy's heart beat between our layers of clothing as his strong grip held me close.

"You're staying over the night, Bill," he said.

It was a bossy tone I'd only heard from him in the gym before.

"Yeah," I said. I pulled up and looked at him. His face was flush and his hair was a little mussed. "You ever slept in your suit?"

He seemed amused by the idea. "No. Have you?"

I shook my head no. "Might be fun, though... But maybe we can start with just shirt and tie."

Ethan was still hard, but after getting off a couple of times that evening he didn't seem eager to get off again. I watched him take off his coat and drop the undone suspenders. I slowly removed my suit, suspenders and trousers.

"Is this gonna mess up our ties?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "But at the worst we'll each have a play tie to add to the collection."

I let Ethan wash up first. "There's a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet," he offered when I stepped in. And once I was done in the bathroom, he had a glass of water to offer me.

"You sleepy?" he asked as we slid under the covers together, in our dress shirts and ties. I could feel his naked legs slip against mine and his genitals press against my crotch. This felt nice.

"Not really," I said. "Wanna stay up and talk?"

So that's what we did. We talked about dating and how it could work this time. What would need to be different, but what we missed about before.

"I don't want that easygoing part to go away, Bill," Ethan said. "Maybe things were too easygoing, but I like how you were my friend first."

"I still am," I assured him. "And you client," I winked. "You do good work."

He laughed. "Thanks. You needed to be whipped into shape," he quipped. It was bossy Ethan, and I knew it was a joke, but I still had to speak to the elephant in the room.

"Listen, I know you could find a guy with a much better body than mine."

He didn't miss a beat. "I want a body that looks great in a suit, Boss."

He didn't give me a chance to reply, he just leaned in for a kiss. I returned it and like that we were making out. It was about 1AM and I knew I didn't want this night to end. I felt Ethan's cock grow firm again against me and I loved the contrast between his hard nakeness and his clothed torso. Our shirts were now damp and our bodies warm.

Unbelievably, my own cock responded by firming up again.

"You wanting to get off?" I asked, running my hands over the bulging biceps in his shirt sleeves.

He thought for a second and shook his head. "Let's save it till morning, Bill."

"Sounds good," I said.

We kissed a little more and then got truly sleepy. As Ethan turned out the light, I realized I hadn't felt this giddy and excited in a long while.

#drakestories

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reallyromealone · 10 months ago

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Title: merry-go-round of life

Pairing: Ryou x male reader

Fandom: Yu-gi-yoh!

Warnings: male reader - reincarnation - fluff

Notes: (A.R.N) is an acronym for alternative reader name and (A.B.N) is alternative bakura name.

This is written for a friend

Thank you for being my friend kaida.

☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️

They say that soulmates no matter what, will always find one another, time and time again.

Round and round through the dancefloor of time they will see each other and carry on in their waltz of life, with each reincarnation the love grows stronger and more vibrant with each step and breath.

And this time, it started with a bus stop on a rainy spring day where two young men sought shelter from the elements and unknowingly started the clock once more.

Rain pelted the old wooden bus stop as (name) rushed under, clothes soaked as he looked at the heavy rainfall worried "it's gonna last a while, get comfortable" a voice spoke gently as (name) turned to see a white haired teen sitting on the bench, hair drenched and sticking to his face and neck "I saw the weather yet I still forgot my umbrella, could you believe that" he chuckled as (name) sat on the bus seat "I completely forgot to check the weather today, woken up late for class" (name) said to the stranger "ah, another victim to the cursed alarm clock" he said with a slight tease "though rain is needed, the heavens are cleansing the earth after all" his voice tender and gentle with each word, (name) felt pulled in by its calmness as he listened to him.

"So where are you coming from, stranger?" (Name) asked the white haired teen with a soft smile "oh, I came back from a few duels... You know how it is" (name) looked at him in awe as he got closer "that's so cool! You know how to duel?!"

"Y-yeah, do you?"

"Nah, it always looked intimidating ya know? Though I always thought it was cool-- oh I'm (name) by the way! (name) (last name)!" He introduced with a grin and offered his hand to the other who took it gently "Ryou Bakura, it's a pleasure to meet you (name)... I may not be the most amazing player but I do fancy myself pretty decent... Maybe I can show you" he offered as he fiddled with his hands and the smile (name) had on his face was one he wanted to photograph and look at forever.

He wanted that smile on his face every day.

They spoke endlessly, each word they grew more and more fond of one another as the two scooted closer and found they had much in common.

They felt like they had spoken to one another all their lives.

"Oh, the rain stopped"

"It did..." (Name) seemed disappointed that it stopped and he was, he didn't want to stop talking to Ryou... "Could we-- could we hang out sometime?" (Name) asked hopefully and Ryou looked startled but happy as he nodded, giving the other his email on a scrap paper and the two parted ways, both giddy as they rushed to email one another.

Messages were traded, the two sitting on their computers throughout the night messaging and joking around.

They couldn't hang out again till a week and a half later, (name) giddy as he put on an outfit, subconsciously he wanted to look good for the white haired teen, impress him even as their first meeting he looked like a wet rat.

(Name) had his allowance saved along with his part time job money for this hangout, he was not gonna let his new friend pay for a thing! Heck yeah! It was gonna be awesome!

(Name) hyped himself in the mirror before leaving, a stupid smile on his face, not knowing he had done this countless times before.

It was a fall afternoon, (A.R.N) ran down the old cobble road to the forest outside of the old farming village with a stupid smile, a basket of treats in his hand.

"(A.B.N)!" (Name) called with a smile as the young man looked from his book to see the other, a soft smile on his face as he stood up and watched as (name) ran to him, only to tumble over an old branch "are you alright?!"

"I-i was just falling for you, I suppose"(A.R.N) huffed a laugh to the shoe makers son who snorted a laugh "come, let's get you sitting" he whispered to his lover who let him lead him to their secret spot, a spot just for them.

(A.R.N) rested his head as his beloved continued reading out loud to him, this was often how they spent their time, just enjoying their time together.

"I hope you weren't waiting long" (name) said as he got to the cafe they agreed on, (name)s breath taken from him as he looked at the other who had the sweetest expression of slight confusion as (name) stared stunned "are you alright?" He asked worriedly, hand on (name)s forehead and (name) snapped from his thoughts as he took Ryou's hand gently "all's good, just... You look good"

The summer heat was heavy as (ABN) looked flustered as she stared at her wedding dress "thank you, you also look quite lovely" the two dressed in the best clothing they had as they stood at the altar, a tailor's son and a noble man's daughter marrying in a Paris Church... How odd it was to an outsider.

But to them, it was everything "I (ARN), vow to love and cherish you through sickness and health... I will sew you the finest dresses and promise to love you till my dying days" he whispered so sweetly to his love, the other smiling as they kissed gently and sealing their marriage, the church door slamming open.

And a gun was fired.

"Don't worry, I got it" (name) smiled as he paid for their things, Ryou shyly sipped his drink as they sat at a booth "so how are you? How's everything?!" (Name) asked as they got comfortable, Ryou noting how he was like an excited dog as he hung onto every word the white haired man spoke, not realizing at this exact moment he fell in love with Ryou once again.

You wouldn't realize how many drinks you would go through as you spoke to someone you loved, Ryou rambling about dueling.

"Sorry-- you're probably tired about hearing about dueling"

"I have never wanted to hear anything more than you talk so passionately"

The young poet looked flustered as (ARN) stood behind the library desk, watching the others adjust their glasses as the librarian looked so lovingly "you're... You're really talented at that... I think I could hear you talk about it forever" (ABN) looked at the wooden floors of the carpet, the two dressed in sixties clothing as (ABN) finished a poetry class "thanks, I hope to be the next Emily Dickinson..."

"I believe in you"

Ryou felt flustered at (name)s encouragement as the sun set before them "I-I know this might be dumb but... Would you wanna go on a date? If not that's totally fine, I get it--"

(Name) kissed him lovingly, like every forest date and wedding and jazz club and forgotten corner of the library, he kissing him so so lovingly "I would be a dumbass to not accept that"

And just like that, the merry-go-round of life continued, their song still playing and their dance never ending.

Just like every time before.

#yu gi oh x reader #yu gi oh x male reader #ryou bakura x male reader #ryou Bakura x reader #fluff #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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y-rhywbeth2 · 1 year ago

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Assorted thoughts about Astarion's epilogue that I have only seen in video because patch 4 broke my save files and I have to replay the whole thing to get there.

From what I've seen everyone's good endings seem a little... overly good and free of consequence? But at the same time I haven't seen everything with my own eyes and everyone deserves to be happy, so whatever. If I want angst, there's fic.

Sooo... is it that unromanced Astarion disappeared after the scene at the docks and nobody could find him, or did you assholes just not try? I will be generous and assume the former.

Stop stabbing the table you little gremlin. ...although I'd probably enjoy doing that, if I could get away with it.

I still hate that outfit with the ruff.

Not surprised Larian is doubling down on the "no cure" angle. I don't really care if Astarion remains a vampire or if he goes the cure route, so long as he's happy - although I do think in his shoes I'd look for some way to day-walk anyway, on practical grounds alone.

Hiding a knife behind his back while asking an unromanced Durge if they're showing any signs of being under Bhaal's control... I adore a pragmatic bastard.

---"I could've told you that [you can kill people in a socially acceptable manner]" ---"You realise I don't actually pay attention when you talk, right?" ^This is why I both love him with all my soul and also want to push him off a roof.^

Delighted and validated by Astarion feeding by taking jobs as a bounty hunter or something like that. That was 100% what Vel was suggesting to him post game. Like "Hey, have you considered bounty hunting? if my memories of killing people for fun and profit, and the last month or two of everyone suddenly celebrating instead of getting mad when I murder has taught me anything; if you eat the people the majority want dead, you can have all the blood and money you can get your teeth into and nobody will have a problem with it."

And then there's Ascended Astarion... who I will put under a read more to save space and for those who'd like to avoid the uglier side of endings.

So I don't think Larian read the supplement Van RIchten's Guide to Vampires (it's from 1992, but as far as I know it's also still the most comprehensive write up of D&D vampire lore, and some of it still looks to apply here (or at least, it can).)

But the first thing I thought of, watching him constantly turn into a bat, is that it reminded me of the vampire psychological development stages. Stage one is where a vampire is drunk on their shiny new powers and just will not stop showing them off. (Stage two is the "find out" stage of the fuck around process, where the vampire discovers they're not as invincible as they believed and descends into full blown, paranoid monstrosity.)

Then "I will be watching." "I/We need to eavesdrop on everybody."... Oh, the paranoia. How's that thing where the curse of vampirism is twisting the trauma and fear going for you, my dude?

"I'll never forget the time we spent together, though. And I know you'll never forget about me. Until next time, darling." ...might be his expression or the datamined epilogues where he still wants his ex, but that feels like a threat to me? Might just be a jab after being dumped...

And, oh yeah, we're definitely looking at vampire bride/groom tier stuff here: Just sit on the decorative pedestal I built for you and look pretty until I'm in the mood to take you down and play with you. Stop complaining about how you're bored and want freedom!

The PC isn't weak by any measure, they could become a rival.. AA isn't my ending of choice, but I am morbidly fascinated with the concept of Tav and Astarion as toxic vampire divorcees: Two angry, powerful "lovers to enemies" vampire lords "sharing" territory; passing the centuries obsessing over each other; fighting each other; sometimes maybe hate-fucking, and generally making their bad relationship everyone's problem.

#AA isn't my ending (it's an angsty AU “what could've been” for me) but I'd love to put him in a jar and shake it.#more vampire lore babbling; and I thought I'd exorcised it all...#Somebody should probably take the knife off of Astarion but it's not going to be Vel #Who did not learn the lessons he was supposed to over the course of this adventure #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #...I may regret putting this into the tag system #bg3 spoilers

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milfzatannaz · 1 year ago

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Goth wardrobe advice

hiiiii baby bats!!!! I just wanted to write a lil post on how to start building a goth wardrobe! I started around 6 months ago and I’ve been very happy with the looks I’ve been able to create, and I thought to just write down how I was able to rlly curate my aesthetic! (though I will tack onto this post that goth is a music based subculture so you can be goth without fancy elaborate looks)

when it comes to shopping for clothes, my personal advice is buy individual pieces, not outfits. meaning you buy clothes with the intention of mixing and matching which will save money and help you from over-buying. plus flexibility in your wardrobe allows for more fun and creativity!

the look

The first step to creating your style is to envision what kind of look you want to go for. goth style pulls from so many different sources! Trad goths from the 80s evolved from punk, and subsequent iterations of the style have Victorian, glam, etc sentiments. you can lean more romantic or more edgy, it’s up to you! the first step is to create a vision board. I love Pinterest personally. from there I typed “trad goth” “casual goth” “90s goth” and streamlined what I want to emulate. Don’t forget to watch goth rock music videos for style inspo- siouxsie is my personal icon and wore such interesting things, as well as Patricia Morrison! there’s also a level of gender nonconformity in goth that you can lean into. for instance, I’m femme but with a shaved head that really compliments my style and makes me feel really confident. It’s all so variable and individual. one of the original tenets of goth was the DIY aspect, which I think is super important. don’t be afraid to rip, cut, add safety pins, or paint on clothes you buy.

shopping

shopping for goth clothes has a lot of misconceptions. you really don’t need to ever buy from a fast fashion site like killstar or dollskill to get the looks you want. In fact most goths would prefer that you look elsewhere at first, bc a lot of us aren’t comfortable with the way our subculture has been commodified and commercialized. thrift stores have given me tons of luck. I typically prefer red white and blue, but goodwill can have good stuff too! (now, thrifting is more environmentally friendly, but that doesn’t mean that the company is ethical, like Salvation Army and goodwill. it’s a matter of choosing what’s right for your personal values.)

you can buy black clothes at pretty much any store which makes creating outfits somewhat easy. shop where you can afford it and what has good options for your body type and comfort level. I buy most of my stuff secondhand but I own a few things from H&M and Pacsun. pacsun has amazing corset tops that are affordable during their sales, and H&M has foundational pieces for okay quality. Try Depop too because I LOVE vintage clothes and you can find amazing things on the app, like dresses from the 90s and 70s blouses!

General wardrobe items

here’s what I bought when building my wardrobe:

- black trousers

- black skirts (midi AND mini. I prefer long skirts but I like to have choices)

- band tees for my fav goth bands

- a white button down blouse

- bustiers/corsets. I have incredible luck thrifting them but some I’ve gotten new. They’re sexy and fun on their own but even cooler layered over something!

- tights! fishnets are a must as well as solid sheer black and other fun patterns

- dresses in plaid or solid colors. you don’t have to JUST wear black, in fact siouxsie wore tons of color back in the day. black is just what we’re known for but maroon, purple and white are great too.

- long sleeve sheer tops. I have one black mesh and one black lace top. These can be worn over bras for an edgier look or under band tees to add texture and complexity.

- SHOES! I don’t buy secondhand shoes only bc I have wonky feet. My two main pairs are my doc martens Jadon platforms and Mary janes. Shoes are an entirely personal decision so do your research! A lot of ppl like Demonias but I haven’t swung for those yet.

- accessories, accessories, accessories. Perhaps what makes someone recognizably goth is our funky accessories. I have multiple belts, ranging from the standard black with grommets to a triple belt and a corset waist cincher. I buy my jewelry off Etsy or I buy them from flea markets, and I lean towards ankhs bc I’m a sandman nerd lmfao. (I own 3 ankh necklaces, a bracelet, and two pairs of earrings oops). I also have a few silver crucifixes and a spiked collar.

- outerwear. I’m a leather jacket aficionado and I hand painted a trad goth jacket, but other options are black long coats and blazers. vests are pretty great too.

final notes

I’m a baby bat myself so I, too am learning the ropes and exploring my style. remember that it’s about self expression and making yourself stand out, not uniformity. there are so many unique alternative subcultures and no one is stopping you from pulling from all sorts of inspo! Remember to have fun when shopping or getting dressed above all else!!!!

other great resources can be found on r/gothfashion and from goth YouTubers!

#goth tag #IDK IF THIS IS HELPFUL BUT. I TRIED

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casicroaks · 1 year ago

Text

Tiffany Valentine has two things in her mind: love and murder. The origins of the brains behind the infamous Lakeshore Strangler and the string of broken hearts she left along her way to Chicago, interwoven with the development of the tempestuous relationship between her and a certain Charles Lee Ray.

CHAPTER 2

[ CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2 // CHAPTER 3 // CHAPTER 4 // CHAPTER 5 // CHAPTER 6 // CHAPTER 7 // CHAPTER 8 // CHAPTER 9 // CHAPTER 10 // CHAPTER 11 // CHAPTER 12 // CHAPTER 13 // CHAPTER 14 // CHAPTER 15 // CHAPTER 16 ]

NEW JERSEY, 1984

“Honey, I’m home!” I said in a sing-song voice as I stepped into my apartment. Not that anyone would answer. I lived alone. I just liked saying that out loud.

I hung my coat and threw my heels off to the side, groaning from having to walk all the way from my workplace to my home. It wasn’t that far, but my last good pair of shoes had fallen to pieces a week ago, and I was still softening the new replacements. I knew I needed to go shopping one of these days. I had only three pairs of shoes: the new red heels, some indoor slippers, and the old leather boots which I was still figuring out a way to wear with my everyday outfits. I really had no excuse not to go get myself some new shoes… Especially since, once a week, I passed by the big shopping malls on my way back home, when it was all lit up with its neon lights and looking real pretty. I admired the clothes, the shoes, the jewelry in their glass cases, trying my best to hype myself up to at least consider buying myself something, like a little present from me to me… But there was nothing I really wanted. Despite working at a beauty parlor, I didn’t care much about looking beautiful anymore. I had the same dresses as before, and I was content with them. Not happy, really. I was never truly happy with the way I looked. Just content. And spending that money I was saving (and that I always ended up spending on groceries and rent) on dresses I didn’t have any interest in just seemed like a stupid idea. Still, I went to the mall every week, like a parishioner returning to the church. It was just something to do.

The little mirror I had nailed to the wall beside the front door gave me back a blur, and I silently chided myself for not stopping by to fluff my hair and check on my makeup. Just like the shoes, even if I had gotten my hair styled quite some months ago (as soon as I had my last break-up, actually) there was still a slight discomfort to seeing it. Like I didn’t quite recognize myself yet, and I didn’t know when I would. I had tried a new hair dye, for once: I had already been blond, brunette… Anything but going back to my original black color. So, red it was. Bright red, like my mother’s.

I read once that the reason women use red lipstick instead of any other color was to attract attention to the lips, since red’s the most eye-catching color in the spectrum. Going into my little kitchen I wondered, was I desperate for attention? Yeah, probably. Was I horny as hell, already tired of my own hand and too broke for a battery-operated alternative? That too. If there’s something I learnt from working at a beauty salon is that a change of image does wonders for a woman. Even something like dyeing your hair can help you feel like a whole different person. And for the first few days, it felt like that. I tried being happier, smiling more, adding a little skip to my step, doing all the bullshit self-help articles, radio therapists and motivational speakers on TV said one should do to be happy. Tough luck. I kept wanting to leave everything, my job, my apartment, change my name and start over somewhere else again (as if that would really change anything), or just skip town and scream in some field or abandoned grounds until my lungs gave up. Like that had worked so well last time. I was so goddamn pissed at everything, and there was a point in which I couldn’t just chalk it up to my breakup. The money always ran out, even when my pay wasn’t that bad, even as I tried to eat less, watch less TV, stop going to the movies, cut down on everything but the most basic expenses. And then, then I felt like I was starving, and it was a constant pull and push between spending my week’s earnings on convenience store snacks or loading it all inside my mattress, saving up for… Something.

Really, I simply had nothing to look forward to.

Maybe I should get a cat, I thought, opening the fridge and having a gulp of milk straight from the carton, before realizing it tasted sour and spitting it out. Well, maybe a dog, then… But I remembered what Arlene had told me not too long ago. A dog, a cat, a bird –they can and will all just up and leave when they get the chance. So much for loyalty. And cages were not cheap.

I remembered I still had some discount tequila left. I had been smart then, and bought two bottles. I was about to pour myself a glass, ready to change into my nightdress and spend the night watching TV, maybe order some Chinese food, and fall asleep in the couch, and do the same the next day, though most likely without the tequila. Or I could go straight to bed (I had heard that sleeping early did wonders for one’s skin) but I wasn’t tired, just exhausted… What I wanted most was to turn off my brain. Turn off my brain, and have a good screwing. By lack of a warm body to share the place, though, the best option I had was to lock myself up in my drab apartment, find the energy to try and finger myself, and watch TV. What else was I gonna do that night, and the weekend after that, after all? Listen to my mother’s voicemails? Eat three bowls of cereal for dinner again? Try to hook up with some rando who might just keep me occupied for a couple hours?

Yeah, that was exactly what I did.

I sighed, leaving the bottle on the cabinet, and went back to put on my coat and my shoes.

“Another night, another day goes by… I never stop myself to wonder why…” I hummed to myself, giving my lipstick one last touch up in front of the bathroom mirror. “You help me to forget to play my role…”

One could say I was looking for love in all the wrong places. And that was probably right. I knew I was looking for some sort of commitment, but… Let’s just say that searching for Prince Charming in a pig pen just isn’t the best way to go about it. I was ashamed of it, I’m not gonna lie. I had hoped I would never have to get into that sort of situations. After all, I was never interested in short-term-relationships, and I liked to think that I was better than casual sex… Not that any of the people I met up with were particularly, interestingly nasty anyways. I knew what I was getting myself into, what sorts of places I became a regular of. And, admittedly, I met some handsome men, a few pretty girls. Don’t get it twisted, though; always used protection, always checked they didn’t have the shadow of a wedding band. I was killing time, but at least I was gonna be careful about it. Just because I dyed my hair red and was feeling blue didn’t mean I became someone else completely. It just meant now I was a redhead, and feeling blue.

“I, I live among the creatures of the night… I haven’t got the will to try and fight…” I sang quietly, biting down on my cigarette’s filter to keep it from being blown away by the wind on the street.

It was a cold October night, and I felt the upcoming winter on my bare legs. The shops were already decked out in their Halloween décor, to my delight. I had made paper garlands and a few other decorations to make the beauty parlor extra spooky for the festivities, but Shelley had told me that it wasn’t necessary… That people didn’t really care about all that when they went to have their nails done. What a bunch of bull. Everyone loved Halloween! And those who didn’t, they were just buzzkills. I hang the decorations anyway. But not even Halloween managed to lift my spirits.

Not too far from the dance floor of the club, just enough for me to people-watch comfortably, I nursed something called a Blood and Sand instead of my usual margarita, having decided to treat myself for once. All things considered, I was simply expecting a mediocre screwing, to be kicked out of some guy or gal’s house which I would never set foot in again, and to head back to my apartment just in time to eat Chinese and cry while watching All That Heaven Allows on the late-night programming.

I had no idea that this was the night that would change my life.

“Hey, Red –what’s new?”

I was approached by not one guy, but by a guy and his girl.

“… Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked the man who had made the question.

Of course, though, I knew what they had in mind. The blonde was kinda cute, with her big eyes and smug grin like a Barbie doll, in an easy-to-forget eye candy, background-dancer-in-a-music-video kind of way. But the guy, with the triple whammy of rather long hair, black suit and tie, and having somehow both childish and sharp features, had a much more interesting sort of odd charisma to him. He was a weirdo, no doubt about it. But I liked his style. I never told him this, but he reminded me a little bit of Heath. Maybe he just happened to be a bit high when we met, like Heath used to be constantly. Maybe it was the hungry eyes, or something in the smile… I didn’t know why, but even as I kept my sight on the girl, I was always aware of his presence, even as he walked behind us on the way to the hotel.

The blonde (I think her name was Leah, or something?) was clearly a newbie. It seemed like she had learnt anything about fucking a girl through some porn movie or something. She kissed me, but not much else; she moaned and sighed and giggled as if she was having a ball, writhing around me, rubbing herself against me. I had barely even touched her. All tease, no action. I knew her type all too well from maybe two or three bi-curious girls I had met through the same methods. Too overexcited, too self-conscious, too eager to please… Please herself, that is, and in this case, please the guy watching. She turned to glance at him every few seconds, as if she needed constant approval to continue. Didn’t seem to be thinking about me at all. It was easy to assume how that would translate when we actually did something. So much for the red hair, I thought, but I tried to have fun, regardless, as I pushed her down and climbed on top of her, pulling that tacky necklace off of her, showing her how it was done. I was a bit disappointed the guy had decided he was just gonna watch, but to each his own, I thought. Maybe he’ll come in later, when we’re already turned on, I guessed.

So… Well, if I was surprised by being approached at the bar by the two of them, I was straight-up baffled when the guy grabbed my shoulder and pulled me off the bed and onto my knees.

“Hey—!”

For a second I thought this meant we would be switching, which honestly was a relief, since despite my best efforts I was getting a bit tired of her. But then he put his hand on my nape and stood over me, and I saw what he had in his right hand. The least subtle knife I’d seen. Where and how had he managed to smuggle it in? I smiled. So that was the plan, I realized. I glanced at the blonde, letting it all sink in. Had I stepped into some kinky Bonnie and Clyde situation? Were they into some fetish stuff we hadn’t discussed beforehand? But then I looked back at the guy, into his cold blue eyes, and I finally understood this was no roleplay. He wanted to kill me, stab me until I dyed the carpet deep red with my blood. So that was what turned him on. No wonder he had seemed as bored as I was feeling so far.

And I was feeling rotten enough to actually be thrilled by this.

“Do it,” I told him, as soon as he held me by the back of my neck, pressing my throat with his thumb, before I could even think it over. And when I did, I just smiled wider. I really wanted it. After all, if he killed me… Well, at least that would spare me having to wash the dishes that night. And if my life was really going to be what it had been for the last year or so, then I didn’t care much if that was how it ended. And, if he didn’t kill me… Then –what a chicken, right? Who goes ahead and pops out a big-ass knife, ready to charge, with another woman egging him on, only to not do it? What can I say –I was curious. Besides, it would be almost hilarious; what would we even do then, if he didn’t kill me now? Would he apologize for the inconvenience and leave? Would we just go home, like when bad weather cuts a ball game short?

Did this guy really have that killer instinct? Would he actually go through with it?

And he still doubted. He kept looking at me all confused. I wondered if he had done this before, and whether he thought I was special, in some way.

“Do it to me, now,” I insisted, keeping the grin firmly drawn on my face. But I kept staring back at him, watching how he faltered. Seemed like there were a hundred thoughts rushing through his head, his hand unsteady, his eyes shifting, and yet they always went back to mine. It was strangely intimate, that balance we had going, him holding me down on my knees and threatening me, but with me having a kind of control over the situation. I wasn’t screaming nor whimpering, I wasn’t intimidated at all, and that clearly threw him off his rhythm; and it was all truly much more exciting than whatever whatshername had been trying to pull in the bed.

And, because she was being ignored and she just needed to hog the spotlight, Blonde started whining. We both glanced at her, having forgotten she was there at all. The man looked back at me for a moment. She was getting in my nerves, and it was likely she was getting in his, too. If he wasn’t gonna kill me, then I might just ask him to borrow his knife and get that woman to shut up—

But then, as if he had just read my mind, he turned towards Blonde –pushed her against the floor –and stabbed her once, twice, thrice, nice and deep, right between the ribs, with the quick, confident pull and push of a professional. Oh, he had killed before. He was not a newbie at all.

And without missing a beat, he turned to me, actually smiling. “Hey, Red, wanna play?”

This had been a test all along, I thought, barely containing my giddiness. He offered me the knife. He really trusted me with it, to go on with it… Even though Blonde was gasping her last breaths already. But still, even if it was just scraps, it was hard to say no.

I let out a giggle when I got my hands on it. With both hands, like I used to. I got closer, still on my knees, and looked down at her body spread beside us. Blonde sure didn’t look as smug anymore… And then I stabbed her. Push in, pull back, with that nice wet sound, with that warmness that came with the splattered blood. My hands remained away from her, grasping the handle, but it was as if the knife had become an extension of myself –yes, I could feel her guts, sinking a bit deeper with each stab, pushing harder and carving a space inside her for me to dig through, making sure to go as far as possible, to the other side of her torso, to let the blood flow freely out of her, for it to splash all over me…

Boy, had I missed it. And even as I focused entirely on my task, becoming more and more excited, I noticed him (Charles, Blonde had called him) out of the corner of my eye, moving along with me to the thrust of the knife as I stabbed her over and over and over –and the way he did so, back and forward, tensing when we went back, letting go when I pushed on, as if guiding me from the side…

I closed my eyes and let out a euphoric laugh in sheer exhilaration, covered in Blonde’s blood. What a pleasure it was. The coldness of the night was gone, I felt my skin burning, my heart pounding, and I had forgotten all about Chinese and TV night. My lust for life had returned. God –I felt alive.

“Wow… It’s never happened like that before,” I admitted with a giggle, looking back at the guy. It wasn’t my first time killing, of course, but this was certainly different. I never had someone beside me, warming it up for me, for starters. Never had a partner in it. Maybe I never saw it as a bonding activity before. It always had been just a slipup, an accidental thing, sometimes a way to blow off some steam, perhaps even a bit of an embarrassing little secret. And there I was, thinking I had left it all behind me a year ago…

But now there was Charles, kindly inviting me along. How could I possibly refuse?

I put a hand on my chest and I frowned when I realized just how different I sounded. “Is that me?” The pure glee of it had probably caused me to slip. Shit… I thought I had managed my voice so far. Found that perfect balance between cute and sultry and kept it up for years. Now, my original voice, my annoying little voice, was back. Shit, shit, shit. Just when I had found a guy I could be truly myself with…

“Oh, it’s definitely you,” he said with a grin and a snicker, coming closer, embracing me. I smiled again, biting my lip, tasting the fresh blood. He picked me up and took me to the bed, and finally, finally I felt that great special rush of adrenaline, that kick I had been looking for for years, there, kissing him, tasting the blood on his own lips. I pushed his hair back, slick now, wanting to see his face. Charles. His cheeky grin, the devious twinkle in his eyes, his boyish charm… I could see myself getting used to it. I could see myself growing to love that face of his.

“Boy, you really know how to show a girl a good time,” I chuckled, and he joined me with his own. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but I wanted us to be properly introduced to one another, to get that out of the way. “I’m Tiffany.”

“I’m Charles,” he replied, now in a different voice, a low snarl that sounded almost menacing. But I wasn’t afraid of him. Why, after that whole display, he couldn’t scare me even if he tried.

“Know what, Charles—” I said, taking a moment to catch my breath. “You should be Chucky.” It went without saying that it would be on account of how much he liked to laugh. And besides, Charles was far too formal. And now that we had shown each other the wickedest parts of ourselves, I felt it was only natural to become more familiar with the other.

“You know what, Tiff…?” Chucky said, raising his eyebrows, giving the body on the floor a quick glance. “… You should be blonde.”

Well, good news for him, then, I thought with a smile. Bleaching black hair was a lot easier than going full red. However, as I gripped his blood-stained shirt and pulled him back in for the kiss he’d been wanting, feeling just how eager he was to keep going, he would be stuck with a redhead for the time being.

You know that one song that was all the rage that October, Like A Virgin? It was like that. Shiny and new, indeed. Best fuck I had in a very long time, truth be told, if not ever. Not that I was gonna tell him that, get his ego that blown. I would have never guessed the weirdo with the hair and the suit had it in him… But Chucky was always full of surprises.

I’m not sure how long passed then. During the eventual cigarette break, bathroom pause, and one moment in which we raided the minibar, I noticed that there was light out the window, but when I checked later, it was pitch dark. Neither one of us checked on the time at any point. I guess neither of us had anywhere better to be than there. And it suited me just right.

Apart from the pit stops, though, we truly managed to keep ourselves entertained for quite a while. What broke the spell was, because it couldn’t have been any other way, Blonde’s natural decomposition. We had switched again and now he was on top of me. I was taking him in and kissing him back, sinking my nails in his back, not a care in the world –when there was the weirdest squeaking noise, loud enough to make both of us stop right then and there. Chucky and I exchanged a quick awkward glance, but decided to simply ignore it. We went right back to what we were doing –and there was the sound again, not a squeak anymore, longer than before. He moved back and let out a deep frustrated sigh.

“Hey… I promise I won’t judge you or anything,” I said, drumming my fingers on his thighs, looking up at him as he kneeled on the bed. “… But did you just rip one?”

“What? No!” he exclaimed. “Thought that was you—”

“It wasn’t me—!”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “Right, won’t judge you or anything…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I insisted, leaning on my forearms to prop myself up. “Y’know, it’s… It’s totally natural and stuff, I guess… But it wasn’t me—!”

There was the noise again, and now that we were both aware of it, we noticed the direction it was coming from. Blonde had gotten bloated and her skin was turning waxy. And, in the silence we kept for the next few seconds, we got another toot, clearly coming from her body.

The two of us burst out laughing. I had heard of bodies becoming gassy after death from some documentary on TV, but I really wasn’t expecting it to sound exactly what gassy sounded like. And apparently it was the music hour, because she kept passing wind for a while –to both our disgust and amusement.

As funny as it was, we did have stinky worm food in our hands. Once we finally calmed down, he suggested stuffing it into the closet and forgetting about it. The issue kept turning in my mind though. And what a pity it would be if we were forbidden to return to such a nice hotel some other time, if some other time could become a possibility… So, I proposed to use his handy knife to chop it up, put it into a laundry bag and throw it into the garbage. That way, at least, there wouldn’t be a dead body to link us to it. Even if it would still be hard to explain the amount of blood.

We dragged Blonde into the bathroom and took turns to hack her up. Once that was done (and it took quite a while, since we also had to break a few bones) Chucky stuffed the slabs in the laundry bag while I hosed the bathtub to get it as spotless as I could. I also took a moment to rinse Blonde’s nice purple corset. I could easily mend the stabbing holes, she was more or less my size (maybe a bit smaller), and it would’ve been a shame to throw it away along with the meat. Only then, with Blonde’s parts finally packed up and ready to go, we realized that it would seem a tad suspicious to leave through the front door while missing one person, and now carrying a big stinking bag.

“What d’you suggest, then?” Chucky asked me. I looked at him, and then at the window behind the messy, blood-dotted bed, and smiled.

I opened the window, the two of us picked up the bag and, with some effort, raised it and tossed her out into the street where it fell on the pavement with a crunch! Luckily it was either really late or really early, and there was nobody on the street to notice our suspicious behavior.

“Did it rip?” he asked, peeking out the window, lighting a new cigarette.

Hard to say with the little light. Since no blood pooled around it, though, we concluded the first half of the operation was a success. Chucky gave me an impressed little glance as he put on his coat. I put on mine, smiling wide in my satisfaction, dangling my heels in one hand.

The second half of the operation was to run like hell out the emergency exit. We giggled like schoolkids as we rushed down the stairs. He was a bit faster than me, since I was practically bouncing barefoot on the concrete steps. I gave him a couple light kicks to tease him, slipping my hands on the handrails. We weren’t rolling around naked anymore, but I was still dizzy with excitement, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Once we got to the backdoor, which was partly locked (that surely had to be a safety hazard), it was Chucky’s moment to impress me. He handed me his cigarette for safekeeping, and with a sniff and a quick rub of his nose, walking a few steps backwards, he got the momentum he needed –hopped for a bit where he stood, as a sort of warmup –and ran towards the door –and gave it one hard kick –managing to get it wide open. He grinned proudly, turning back to see my reaction, and I laughed and clapped. We hurried back to the street, to the bag that was waiting for us, circled by curious stray dogs, which fortunately hadn’t managed to open it and which Chucky swiftly shooed away. He waited politely for me to put my heels back on.

“I’ve never been around a dead body long enough to see it rotting,” I admitted as we both dragged the heavy bag towards the closest dumpster.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he said with a little chuckle. “And… Well, it was pretty warm in that hotel room.”

I snickered, standing on the tip of my toes, holding the lid of the dumpster as high as I could. Chucky picked up the bag with a grunt, swung it and tossed it into the dumpster, where it landed with a thump!, and I dropped the lid, and the operation was then done. We had both now created and disposed of a dead body. Quite an achievement.

With a long, satisfied sigh, Chucky leaned back against the wall of the alley. He took a drag of his cigarette and then offered it to me. By the faint yellow light of the lamppost beside us I noticed the pinkish lipstick stains I had left on it. I gazed at him as he blew the smoke. It could just have been some leftover smudges of blood, but judging by the shade it seemed to be that he actually had my lipstick all smeared on his mouth. Something about that sent a chill down my back.

I smiled at him, giving his cigarette a puff. He smiled back.

“D’you have the time, Chucky?” I asked him, leaning against the wall beside him.

“No, I lost my wristwatch a couple weeks ago,” he said, sinking his hands in his pockets. “Why’d you ask?”

“Wanted to know if it’s Monday already.”

He snorted. “Busy day, Mondays?”

I smiled and looked down at my worn shoes. I should have brought the boots instead, even if they didn’t match my skirt and jacket. “… Amazing, isn’t it?” If they had any traces of blood, I couldn’t tell. “All you can do in just one night.”

Chucky sighed and nodded. He handed me the cigarette again. “Yeah, well, the night’s still young, Tiff.”

We both had to take a moment to catch our breaths. We had run a few floors, dragged a whole person in a bag, been fucking for an unspecified amount of time. Exhaustion was finally kicking in. We shared a cold but comfortable silence, and I closed my eyes, feeling the roughness of the brick against my back, the light sting of the bruises on my legs, the quick but steady beating of my heart, and listening to his breathing, and, far away, the sounds of police sirens and ambulances, of cars and trucks speeding by, completely oblivious to us and to all we had done. There really were no people on the streets, only the eventual flashing lights of a passing car. Somehow that made it feel like Chucky and I were the only two people in the world.

I returned him his cigarette. He took one last puff and flicked it into the curb. I wrapped myself a bit tighter in my coat, rubbing my cheek against its fluffy collar, shivering at a cold rush of wind, my knees trembling just a bit. Chucky looked out into the streets, stretching his neck, checking if someone would come near. Then he sighed, turned back to me and looked me in the eye. A moment passed. It seemed it was time for us to say our goodbyes. And neither one of us wanted to be the one to start.

“… I had fun,” I finally said, trying to hide my… My what? My apprehension? My sadness? My curiosity? I’m not sure. I just had this sinking feeling at the idea of never seeing him again.

“Yeah… Me too,” he admitted gingerly. If we hadn’t spent what seemed to be at least one whole day together I would have thought Chucky might have been lying. “It’s… It was an interesting surprise, I guess.”

I nodded, wringing my hands. “Same here.”

He nodded, rocking on the balls of his feet, glancing awkwardly at the sides, as if that were a particularly fascinating alleyway. “So… Well…”

I didn’t care if it made things weird, I wasn’t gonna be the one to say goodbye. I didn’t want to. And I had the feeling he didn’t want to, either.

His face lit up out of a sudden. He rummaged in his pockets and fished out an old receipt and a shaved-down pencil. “Hey, uh, I don’t know if… I mean, maybe…” He chewed on his lip, looking down, clearly embarrassed. “… I don’t know, we might… Get together again, one of these days, or something…”

“Oh—”

“You got a phone?”

I snickered. “Don’t most people?”

He laughed, dropping his shoulders, loosening up a bit. “Shit, you… You know what I mean.”

I chuckled, taking the little flimsy piece of paper, holding it against the dumpster’s lid, and scribbled my phone number in the biggest, clearest numbers I could write. “Here you go, mister.”

Chucky gave it a glance, still grinning, and stuffed it back into his pocket. If there was a good moment to declare that encounter over, it was then. I waited for him to take it. There was already a promise of a future meeting. I gazed at his face, examining it, putting all my efforts into remembering every part of it. He looked back at me, still smiling. He reached out towards my face –and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

That was it. I think that was when I really fell for him. My hair was caked with dry blood, my makeup was a mess, I was exhausted from the effort of running down stairs and pulling a bag with a dead body inside, and the late-night cold had me trembling like a shitting Chihuahua. But he looked at me, and I felt beautiful. I knew that, by the way he looked at me, he thought I was beautiful.

“Um… My place’s just a couple blocks away, you know,” I managed to blurt out.

Chucky’s eyebrows shot right up.

“I mean, if you’d like to wash up,” I said with a shrug. “We’re both looking like butchers, here.”

There was a pause. He seemed to be considering it. Maybe he was wondering if this could be his chance to try and kill me again, in a more intimate setting, somewhere where he might be able to pass it up as a gruesome suicide. Which I wouldn’t oppose, since, after all, anything would be better than to be unceremoniously killed in a random mucky alley. Maybe, though, he was just wondering if it was worth it.

“… Sure,” Chucky finally agreed. I grinned, noticing the smallest hint of a smile in his lips.

And with that, only stopping by the drugstore to pick up a few more condoms for good measure, I showed him the way to my apartment.

We didn’t really wash up, unsurprisingly. Once in the elevator he pulled me to him and kissed me again, and I held on to his shoulder and buried my fingers in his hair, and both of us already knew where this would end. I don’t know how we made it to my bed, but we did, and at least we didn’t have to share the room with a rotting farting corpse anymore.

At some point we did fall asleep, though. I saw Chucky’s eyes closing as he rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. I had bitten him at some point (well, more than once) but that bite was probably most likely because I had been nodding while dozing off in the middle of a kiss. He let out a sigh, and there was the little glow of the cigarette butt he left on the ashtray on my bed next to his leg. As the smoke went up towards the ceiling, I could hear him breathing softly. It was strange, to think of him as anything near the word soft. I huddled against him, covering him with one arm, smiling to myself. I felt a warm hand setting on my shoulder. It was so comforting… Then, I finally fell asleep.

He woke up before I did. I yawned and dragged myself out of bed, my eyelids still half-shut by the smudged mascara, when I saw Chucky standing in his briefs and tee, holding his blood-stained shirt in one fist and a cigarette in the other hand, with his back to the bedroom. I walked up to him, just a little surprised at this.

“Trying to sneak out?” I asked him with a sleepy giggle, taking the cigarette from his fingers.

He glanced at me over his shoulder. I looked towards where he was looking, the chimney mantle, where I had set my doll collection. It was the best place to display them –as if I actually had anyone to show them to. It was small, but I was proud of it. All of them from garage sales, thrift shops, one or two found just lying around in the curb or in a dumpster, waiting for someone to pick them and fix them up. I had only gotten to gluing one of them back together, and the cracks were still pretty obvious: they would be, until I got some new paint to cover it…

I leaned my head on his shoulder. He had his eyes wide open, wide awake, his brow furrowed, staring at my dolls. He seemed to be trying to understand something. For the briefest moment I was nervous Chucky thought I was a psycho or something.

“You like them?” I asked quietly, slipping his cigarette back into his hand.

Chucky remained silent for a moment longer, looking at them carefully, and took a drag, taking his time to answer. I couldn’t read his face. I swear he knew I was anxious about his answer.

“… If that’s your thing, Tiff,” he finally shrugged it off.

I let out a little happy squeak and hugged him tight, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.

“Well, we all need a hobby, right?” I said with a wink.

He chuckled, and gave me a little kiss on the temple. “Ain’t that the truth…”

Sunlight was already streaming through the window. I went back into the bedroom and put on my nightdress and slippers. There was the buzzing of the radio, and the voice of a newscaster announcing the day’s weather forecast. He already made himself right at home, I thought.

“You got yourself quite a nice little place here,” Chucky commented when I came back to the kitchen.

“Yeah… I’ve been meaning to paint the walls purple,” I said, pushing my hair back. “But my landlord won’t allow it. And I can’t afford to piss him off with rent being what it is…”

“Purple… I can see it,” he said approvingly, glancing around him.

“Where’s your place?” I asked him, letting the hot water run over the dirty dishes on the sink, hoping he didn’t mind the mess too much. “D’you live far?”

“Ridgefield Avenue, other side of the river. By the S46 Bridge.”

“Quiet part of town,�� I said with a smile. “I assume there’s not a wide offer of clubs by those parts.”

“You’d be assuming right,” he snickered, fidgeting with one of the buttons of his shirt, scraping the dry blood with his nail. “It’s just where I’m staying for the time being, though. I want to move closer to where the action is, leave the sidelines.”

I nodded and let out a sigh, taking in the sight of my little apartment. It wasn’t that messy, I told myself. I had a couple bags and boxes lying around from when I moved back in after my last breakup, but mostly everything was in its proper place, and it was pretty clean, all things considered. The only issue was the kitchen, the dirty dishes that had piled up, all greasy and grimy and nasty. Chucky didn’t seem to notice; or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care.

“… What time’s it?”

We both turned to the clock. Two in the afternoon.

“Fuck, I’m starving,” he groaned, hanging his head backwards on the edge of the chair’s back.

As if agreeing with him, my stomach let out a low grumble. “We got some… Some cereal…” I said before taking the box out of the shelf and realizing there was just enough for a spoonful. “We had some, at least.”

He got off the chair and picked up the rest of his clothing. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, shooting me a sideways glance while I opened the fridge, bent over and checked if there was something for us to eat.

“There’s nothing in the fridge save for expired milk, one moldy tomato and some stale bread…” I sighed.

I really wasn’t expecting any visits, after all. Even less a visit that would be staying for a meal. Best I could do was some coffee, but that wouldn’t cut it on an empty stomach.

“Do you, uh, happen to have any money on you?” I asked him, closing the fridge and looking at him over my shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, zipping up his pants. “What d’you have in mind?”

I opened my eyes wide. Was he inviting me out? “… There’s a nice burger place ‘round the corner,” I suggested.

Before leaving the apartment and venturing out into the streets, though, we did have to wash up. I had forgotten about it already, but the two of us were covered in bloodstains, from the face to the chest to the arms and even some handprints on our legs. I wet a rag on the sink of the bathroom, sat on the toilet and washed myself off. Chucky leaned over the bathtub and rinsed his arms, face and neck, avoiding the shower just barely to keep his cigarette lit between his teeth. His stained shirt was a whole issue, which we ended up solving by me lending him an old Black Sabbath tee I had from my New York days that I wore to bed when my nightdress was in the laundry bag.

“I’ll take it with me next time I go to the laundromat,” I told him, examining the stains. They were pretty dark already. The cotton had probably already absorbed it fully. “And if that doesn’t take it out… Baking soda has never let me down before, at least where period blood is concerned.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve walked ‘round the street in broad daylight, red from head to toe, without anyone giving a shit,” he said, checking the tee’s fit, while I brushed the dry blood flakes off my hair. “It’s amazing what people don’t see.”

And so, finally looking like model citizens, we went out and had burgers and milkshakes. We were both pretty damn famished, it had to be said. We barely talked while we ate. Soon enough there was nothing but some dropped onions on our trays and ketchup leftovers on our fingers to lick off.

“I didn’t know about this place,” he said casually as he wiped his mouth. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, isn’t it?”

I smiled and nodded, tapping my nail against the half-empty cup. I watched him while he sucked on the straw of his strawberry shake, wondering what would happen now. Now that we both had cooled off for the time being, I was half expecting Chucky would decide that I was a loose end, and would try to find a good moment to tie that up. So far, though, everything seemed normal. Too normal. It was like an average date with just some guy. Seeing him no longer colored by the red glow of the club, nor by the bright yellow light of the hotel room, no more blood splattered across his face, and now enjoying a burger like your average Joe, wearing my old tee, it was almost as if everything that had happened had just been a weird wonderful dream.

Though, I have to admit, I was still kind of thrilled at the fact that I had met someone who shared my specific interests.

“Hey, uh… Hope you don’t mind me asking,” I said after swallowing my last bite. “… What’s your body count?”

“Boy, I lost track years ago,” he laughed as he leaned back. “Why, do you still have yours?”

“Um… Let me think,” I said, and got to counting with my fingers. “… Hm, Heath, Jordan, Maxine, Mimi, Kenny, Tony, Carole, Roy, Leanne, Gavin, Ronnie, Elliot… Mark… Uh, I think this one’s name was Zach… I must be missing someone, but I think those are the ones I remember the most… So, say around fourteen, fifteen. What do you think of that?”

Chucky hummed, resting his head on his hand. He thought about it for a minute. “… I mean, you know all their names, for one. So you clearly keep it personal.”

“Well, yes,” I frowned. “I’m not interested in total strangers—”

“But our first shared one was with a stranger, though,” he noted.

I blinked, a bit surprised by him specifying first. “Yeah, well—”

“Was that your first time with just, you know, a random person?” he asked, leaning forward, barely holding back a grin.

“I’m not telling you…!”

He let out a short but loud laugh. “So it was!”

I huffed. “So what if it was?”

“You’re, like, in your mid-twenties, right? So fourteen, fifteen’s not that bad,” Chucky shrugged. Now I was really curious to know his death count. I had the feeling he did remember it, but had decided that leaving that to the imagination was more impressive. “But you could do better. If you opened yourself to other options…”

I scoffed. I was thrilled, I was into him, yes –but I wasn’t that much into being talked down to. “So you say I should just go around and fuck up the first fella I come across?”

Chucky smiled even wider. “You did. I just gave you the chance. And hey, I’m no hypocrite, I won’t fault you for that. I’m just saying…” He leaned back on his chair, picking his cup and offering a toast. “It’s not exactly impressive, but you got promise, Tiff. Fifteen’s nothing to sneeze at.”

He probably knew I wasn’t really that offended, and soon enough I smiled back at him. Nobody had complimented me on my death count so far. We clinked cups, and I finally realized that Chucky wasn’t gonna kill me. There was something he saw in me that he liked. Or maybe he just wanted a side piece. I’m not a mind reader, I couldn’t know for sure. I just knew that I had fun with him –more fun than what I had had with anyone else –and that I liked the idea of staying around to see what happened next.

“I’d love to… You know, do something like this again,” I said, twirling my hair. “If you’re up to it.”

He tilted his head. “Go out for burgers?”

“No, silly,” I chuckled. “To… Meet again. Do something…” I just couldn’t blurt it out. I giggled, despite myself, becoming a bit flustered. “You got my number, so… If you ever, say, wanted to… To do something…”

“Are you talking about—?”

“Both,” I interrupted him, just as a mother and her child passed us by. “Both… Both would be great.”

Chucky looked at me, slowly realizing what I meant, and nodded. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, remembering when he did that, and fidgeted with my earring. We were no longer alone with each other. We were surrounded by other patrons at the burger place, by families with their kids, by people chatting on the street… But none of it erased what had happened when we were together.

I noticed that Chucky still had a little cut in his lower lip, where I had bitten him.

I smiled. Yes –it had all been real.

“What, do I have something on my face?” he asked me, scratching his cheek.

“No, it’s nothing,” I said, looking down, still smiling. “I’m just… I’m just happy I met you.”

We had already paid. It was about to be three o’clock. It felt like we had been together for a whole week. And still, we didn’t know how to say goodbye.

“Well…” he said, shifting uneasy in his chair. “… What’s next?”

“I –I got a job,” I blurted, immediately regretting it. “And, uh… I guess that—”

“Right.”

“So… Besides, you surely got your own stuff, your own life to go back to—”

“Yeah,” Chucky nodded quickly. “I’m a very busy man.”

I just barely stifled a laugh. “I bet you are.”

He shot me a glare, but then he smiled, too.

We got off the chairs and back onto the street. We walked a bit, just to get the circulation going. I wanted to take his hand, but he had both of them in the pockets of his coat. I already felt the sadness creeping in. I wondered for how long we would keep walking (hopefully all the way to Ridgefield Avenue on the other side of the river) but we stopped by my apartment.

“Well… See you around, Tiff,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair, pushing it off his face.

I smiled. “See you around, Chucky.”

He smiled back. I looked down at his mouth, at the little cut. Even at the risk of staining my teeth with lipstick, I bit down my lower lip, as if I was trying to give myself that same cut. I looked back into his big blue eyes.

And, somehow, we both knew. At this point, even if we hadn’t talked a lot to each other, I felt I knew him inside out. I knew him without saying a word. We moved towards the other –and kissed –and we embraced like that first night on the bed of the hotel room, not too long ago, but which felt like ages –and we kissed. Everyone else in the street disappeared in a blur. There was only us, and the warmth of our bodies, and the white light of day. I knew, right then and there, that this was love.

#childs play #chucky series #fanfiction

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taiyaki-translations · 6 months ago

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Autumn Cafeteria - Fall for All 6

Season: Autumn Characters: Shu, Tsumugi Translator: taiyaki-translations Proofreader: raspberrytls

Tsumugi: —So, our main goal is to keep the café as a place that can offer round bread. However…

Shu: ……? Is there another problem?

Tsumugi: Yeah, you can even call it the fundamental problem. These idols are new and unknown to the public, so we don’t know how much appeal they will have.

Our first move is key, so I wish we had a good countermeasure in place. Hmm…

…….

Ahaha. I can’t think of anything ♪

Shu: Is this really a laughing matter?

Tsumugi: Now, now. Hopefully a good idea will pop up soon—

By the way, how is the costume design coming along, Shu-kun?

Shu: It's almost done. I'm going to let it sit overnight and add some more to it, though.

Tsumugi: Let’s see…

Wah. As expected of Shu-kun, you have good taste~♪

Shu: Hm, that’s a boring impression. Like me, you are in charge of making costumes for your unit, so please give me at least one constructive opinion.

Tsumugi: Even if you say that, even with a quick glance, it looks perfect.

The long length of the jacket, which would usually restrict movement, has deep slits to make it easier to move around in.

Most importantly, it matches the atmosphere of the store very well. Changing the color of the shoes to match the employees is also quite fashionable~

…Ah.

Shu: Hm? What’s the matter?

Tsumugi: Um. The specifications for fabrics and accessories you wrote are very detailed. Do we have to match them to a tee?

I'm just guessing, but knowing you, I think all of the materials are going to end up being very expensive…

Shu: Hmph, I don't use inexpensive materials. The cheaper the fabric is, the cheaper the overall outfit will look.

Tsumugi: I guess that’s true~.... Well, I don’t want to make you compromise your vision. You put in all this effort on our behalf, after all.

It would be nice if a generous sponsor conveniently appeared to drop some money into our laps. But reality doesn’t work that way.

...Even if we're only in charge of promotion, the overall cost of this is going to be quite high.

Suou-kun, who is in the same agency as me, might be willing to lower his fee if I negotiate with him. But that won't work for Shu-kun and Yuta-kun from CosPro and Koga-kun from Rhythm Link.

On the other hand, it’ll be a leap of faith if we just leave it to new idols…

…….

Ah, maybe…

Shu: ? What are you looking up on your phone?

Tsumugi: —Fufu, as I thought.

Shu-kun, form a unit with me.

Shu: …Haah?

What are you talking about? My partner cannot be anyone but Kagehira.

Tsumugi: Ah, you misunderstood because I didn't use the right words. What I meant to say was "us”, as in the five of us: myself, Shu-kun, Suou-kun, Koga-kun, and Yuta-kun.

You might have heard, but there’s a cross-agency project that the P-Association created called “Shuffle Units.” Fortunately, none of us five have been selected for one yet.

We need to approach the P-Association about it, but once we get their approval, we can work together beyond the boundaries of agencies.

From what I've seen of past projects, the budget is pretty generous. I’ll start writing the proposal right away~

Shu: Mhm. You're good at that sort of thing, so I'll leave it to you.

…….

Even though you used to frequent that café too, unlike me, you felt it was inevitable that it would close.

What made you have a change of heart?

Tsumugi: Hmm~? I don't know if I had a change of heart necessarily, but I thought, "If I'm going to repay Shu-kun, this is the right time.”

You see, you helped us out when "Switch" was stranded on that southern island, didn't you? I wanted to express my gratitude for that time. (1)

Shu: Hmph. I only saved the boy and Chibisuke. You were just a bonus.

Tsumugi: Wah, you said it again~♪

Shu: You’re obviously being treated coldly, so don’t look so happy.

Tsumugi: Well, it's not like I'm happy, it's just that Natsume-kun often picks on me, so maybe I’ve developed a tolerance.

Though in his case, he's more likely to resort to violence~

Anyway, I'm grateful to you, Shu-kun. If you hadn’t come across us then, we would have been forced to live a life of survival.

If we couldn’t get on that ship—if we didn’t get that job on stage as the opening act in the show—we would have ended up with bitter memories.

Thank you so much, Shu-kun.

Shu: ……

Tsumugi: Actually, I wanted to repay you sooner, but~

Shu-kun is away from Japan a lot, and since you’re already a proper adult, you can take care of yourself, right?

A lot of time has passed since then, so I’m sorry this is so late. But I’m happy I’ll finally be able to repay that debt ♪

Shu: ...It's still too early for you to say that. It's uncertain at the moment if the café will survive.

Tsumugi: Fufu. That's true, I haven't even drafted the proposal yet.

Let's do our best to avoid making any bitter autumn memories...♪

Translation Notes: 1. Referring to the story Cruise.

Previous | Directory | Next

#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #shu itsuki #tsumugi aoba #autumn cafeteria

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skeleton-in-a-hoodie · 8 months ago

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A thing that I think about a lot in DDMG is the Turtles and the rest of the extended family buying Splinter clothes, and how their tastes in fashion ends up getting reflected in the outfits Rat Dad wears.

I think the second winter the boys know Splinter, they save up money and get him a thick jumper and some warm trousers.

Splinter doesn't really know what to say to this, and his brain goes straight to "These are orphaned children who don't get much of an allowance and these clothes are good quality. How much did these cost? What did my sons give up to afford this?"

Which prompts a conversation, because Splinter didn't feel he could accept it in good conscious, and look, the tags are still on, you could take them back and spend the money on something you four want. And the answer he gets is that they're not going to take the clothes back, because they wanted to get him something.

The trousers need some adjusting so his tail can fit, but they fit surprisingly okay. The jumper is good too, but his proportions are weird and he's tall as hell, so the Turtles went a size above what they thought he'd need, so whilst it's long enough and fits well everywhere else, it keeps slipping off one of his shoulders.

One day, when Raph is in the city, he finds someone selling Ratman merch and can't resist getting Splinter a hoodie. Splinter is mortified but still wears the damn thing because his son got it for him (and it's really soft and comfy, and he ends up chewing on the strings to stim).

Casey gets Splinter heavy metal and punk band t-shirts, and doesn't know how to feel when Splinter actually wears them. Like she's seen him wear the stuff Raph buys him, but at the same time Casey really didn't expect Splinter to actually, like, put the shirt on.

Robyn, Casey's little sister, is quite young, so she just picks stuff that makes her think of her rat uncle. These also get worn, even if the colour she selects aren't something Splinter would chose for himself, but it makes his niece happy. As long as the material isn't too smooth it's all good.

Whenever Kirby goes through his wardrobe for things he doesn't wear anymore, he'll give anything he thinks Splinter would like/ will fit to him. This is how Splinter gets a lot of cardigans. Kirby, April and Mikey also form team "Let that old man be comfy" and get Splinter as many warm jumpers as they can. Mikey tries to find brightly coloured stuff for Splinter, whereas April is like "I think this is cute!"

Donnie is responsible for the overalls, and Leo the short sleeved button up shirts and to be honest anything practical. Tseng gets Splinter Hawaiian shirts, saying it's part of Splinter's old man training.

Socorro ends up in a years long battle with Splinter over the issue of wearing shoes. Her argument is it'll stop him walking on broken glass again, his is that shoes are sensory hell and he'd rather chew his own leg off. The battle is won when these two remember sandals exist. Socorro does not bother with slippers, and settles instead for "You need a warm winter coat." "I AM LITERALLY A FIRE GHOST."

Generally speaking they all try to pick out clothes in dark colours, or maroon, because his kimino is that colour and he seems to like it. There's also a lot of green after they find out its his favourite colour.

Also they find out Splinter really likes scarfs and half-finger gloves, so he has a ton of them. Most of those are from Raph, who learns how to knit and crochet, but the rest of the family will bring Raph wool in different colours so he can make fun patterns and stuff. He learns how to make dragon scale gloves, makes some modled off godzilla, which results in a lot of happy stimming from rat dad.

His wardrope ends up having a lot of skirts too, because those are easier to adjust so his tail fits okay than trousers, and sometimes it's nice to have new clothes you can just wear straight away and not have to tailour yourself.

It's also worth mentioning that Splinter does not separate these styles out and just wears whatever is most comfy/ he feels like that day.

Also he knows how to embroider, so chances are at least some of his clothes get hand stitched designs on them. Same goes for his sons' clothes, cause if they have something that needs fixing he tries to make the mend at least look nice. Leo's jeans end up having so many stars on them from when Rat dad had to patch them and tried to make it look good.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt au #dead doesn't mean gone au #when we get to the point in the au where splinter can choose between outfits #it's going to feel so weird for him #he is not used to having options #this also really kicks in the teeth the perception of him as frightening

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callingallthemansters · 2 years ago

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Story time: So I’ve loved Monster High since gen one. And I wanted a Sweet Screams Frankie the moment I first saw the line announced. However when Monster High was new I had a homophobic stepdad at the time, So I had to watch the movies in secret online and I was never able to buy Sweet Screams Frankie. I worried if he found out it’d lead to issues. So I never got her.

He’s not lived here since 2016 as my mom threw his ass out(made me so happy) and gen 3 and the movie reminded me about Monster High. I got to thinking back to Sweet Screams Frankie and how much I had wanted her. Well needless to say her prices now threw me for a loop. But I get why she is the price. I chalked her up as never being obtainable to me.

However I opened up to my mom recently about her and how much I had always wanted her(my mother is a amazing person and it turns out those fears I had about coming out as gay to her where just me thinking the worst. I came out to her in 2017), She bought me the Sweet Screams Frankie above. She is missing the entire outfit, every accessory, has no stand, no pet. Her hair needs some serious tlc. But given she was only 20 bucks I expected as much. Is she perfect? No. But is she perfect to me? Yes. Because she’s been my dream for so long and the fact that my mom bought her for me makes her so special to me.

I’m going to save up money to try and get her complete. I plan to buy the shoes, dress, jacket, tie, gloves, belt, earrings, hair band, and wrist bands. It’ll cost me a good bit. But I can do it over time and again my mom bought her for me so I don’t care how much it’ll cost me in the long run. I have no idea how to fix her hair though. I’ve never done a doll’s hair.

I don’t even know what kind of hair she has.

#monster high dolls #monster high

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onehoppymomma2 · 2 years ago

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gothpunkseekerofdarkness · 1 year ago

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Scary chuckles and shakes her head.

Don't worry about it. Because I drew you.

She shows Galaxy her sketch, which was of Galaxy. It was half outlined.

I agree that's it's easier to draw something in front of you. Though emotional pieces don't need that, but eh, I didn't want to draw an emotional piece right now.

They turn their paper around again and continue outlining.

Drawing a subject when just drawing for fun is nice. I could've also drawn the other teens or Aquamarine. But you've been fun to draw, so I don't really mind.

She smiles softly.

There's plenty of other things I could've done instead of just drawing, too. I have a few items that probably should get some stitches or straight up replaced.

Mainly what I was wearing for months, because we didn't have time to change. When we were going from so many different realms.

She sighs.

I'll probably do it later. I've started working to pay for stuff for Aquamarine, which is nice. I have some extra money that I made.

I have some saved up and might spend a bit for some new clothes since I need to replace some of the more destroyed items of mine.

They chuckle.

Those tights had seen better days. Same with that jacket and my shirt. Honestly, that whole outfit, besides the shoes, has seen better days.

Which does make sense, multiple fireballs right to the body probably would cause the outfit to start burning up.

Along with my whole body, I guess! I still need to show Hermie how to hide a burn mark with makeup. I've been good about it right now. But I don't know how long until my mom sees the full extent.

She looks at Galaxy.

How do you feel about it?

// @gothpunkseekerofdarkness

Galaxy knocks on the front door of Scary and Veronica's home.

Dodoodo. Hmmhmhm.

They vocal stim while waiting for an answer to the door.

#dndads versa

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kissbentennyson · 3 years ago

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I have no idea if you'd do this but I need a nega ben x reader. He's my favorite out of the alternates. A softer one shot would be nice but whatever you're feeling is good too! I'll take any content I can get!

*Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica begins to play* Yeah me too.

Nega Ben x Reader | reader uses they/them pronouns, but dresses femininely.

Spill

He’d been waiting all day, and I mean, all day. Classes always seemed to drag on and on longer when he wanted something, and sure, he could have skipped. But that would have taken too much effort not to get caught. He isn’t afraid of the cops or the school administration… But dealing with his parents? Yeah, no. Not worth it. He’d b-lined it across Bellwood, all the way to the “café” he frequented. Truthfully, it wasn't much of a café seeing as how they specialize in more smoothie like drinks, but whatever. It has been rather crowded, too crowded, and everyone just wanted to get in then out.

He should have expected to bump or get bumped into someone, but it didn’t dawn on him until his espresso smoothie was all over your bright pink, fuzzy sweater. Both of you stood there with slack jaws and wide eyes as the brown liquid dripped from your chest and down onto an equally as pink lolita-esque skirt. It looked expensive, not in a daddy's money way, in a “I saved up to buy this” way. And so, he was prepared for hell.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!”

When it left you, Ben was confused. “Gosh, I should have been looking where I was going… But I was too distracted. Ugh, I-” You were flustered , more than actually, embarrassed is the correct word. “Um… Give me a second and I'll buy you a new one…”

“What?”

Watching as you tried to pat away the coffee with one of the recycled paper napkins the café gives out, a million thoughts passed through him. Of course he took the offer, he wanted that coffee. The line was a lot shorter this time around, and got by a lot quicker too. You ordered for him as he zoned out suddenly looking over your shoulder at him. “What?” He asks, watching you get even more flustered. “I just asked if you wanted anything else. Do you?” “Oh, uh, yeah.” he clears his throat, raising his voice. “The kale chips.”

You both walked out together, your head was down and you watched your shoes as you walked. “Again, I’m really sorry.” He glances at you with a slight side eye as he sips on the coffee, this was the gazillionth time you’ve apologized in just the last few minutes. “It’s… whatever.” He lets out a quick and breathy chuckle. “You apologize to me, but I ruined your sweater.” All of the sudden, your embarrassment seemed non-existent. A light and bubbly laugh leaving you. “Ruined? Oh, trust me, I’ll be just fine. I've dealt with worse.”

“Anyways! I have to get home and change, It was nice meeting you!”

The lunch room was beyond packed, packed like the reunion tour of a popular punk band from the 2000's. The doors and tables overflow with hungry and impatient mouths. You had managed to get in before the rush and snag a serving of less than okay school food, but by the time you got out of line, they had all flooded in. People had no concern for others around them, pushing and shoving like toddlers over toys, and you were getting the brunt of it. Not actually, but it sure felt like it.

You were halfway across the room and were looking around the tables for a free space- but it was too late for that already. A body slams into yours hard, you hit the ground as your food falls and splatters all of the chest of the sweater you had just gotten the coffee stain out of. Feet come down around you as you struggle to get up, the other person now looming over you. “Could you have watched where you were going!?” This whole situation was not intentional, but they had no right to get angry at you for that.

You felt the tips of your ears heat, unable to answer. Her eyes bore down on you as she sways with every passing body bumping into her. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab the back of your sweater and pull you from the ground, as if they were scruffing a cat. “Or, maybe you could stop play fighting with your friends in the cafeteria, like a bitch.” Her jaw drops and her freckled face goes red with embarrassment, obviously on the fact that she can't pawn her mistake off on someone else this time. The voice was rather monotone- in a way- compared to the words spoken. And rather familiar.

When you look up it’s the guy from the café, his neutral expression was a thin vale to hide his irritation- at least to you. His hand still had a grip on the back of your shirt, it was a firm hold, and it made you just a tad bit nervous. You swallow as the person swallows her embarrassment, rolling her eyes desperately to try and hide. “Whatever freak, sorry…” she turns and disappears into the crowd. You watch her do so, completely shocked at the situation at hand. Your lips part to say something, but his grip on your sweater releases, being replaced by an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly, you’re being dragged through the crowd and towards the cafeteria door.

He walks you out into the hallway, which is mostly empty at this point. “Thank you.” you choke out through the lump in your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking with you- and you aren’t in any position to object.

Eventually you reach the stairs. Under it is a mostly empty black backpack, and there’s a light reflection of gold from inside. The weight of his arm leaves your shoulders and he walks ahead, sliding under the stairs and sitting with his back to an old AC unit. You hesitate for a moment, you’ve only met this guy one other time… maybe you should just wait…… nah.

Sliding under the stairs right after him, you sit straight across from the guy. He’s already looked away. “I think we have third period together. Your name is Ben, right?” His phone is already out, and he’s scrolling through it. “Well I'm…” you give him your name, and all he does is look up at you with a nod before going back to his phone. The volume is low, but there are noises coming from it, ones you recognize. “Is that the Sumo Slammers mobile game?” There was no judgement in your voice at all, and suddenly the losing end sound plays.

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah?” “My little brother is obsessed with that series. He says that the mobile game isn’t that good, but he still played it to the end.” He let out a little huff like laugh through his nose, pressing the power button and finally giving you his full attention. “Yeah, maybe the old one wasn't that good, but this one is a new release- Doesn’t even have dubbed lines yet.” He clears his throat, slouching a bit as his hands slide into his pockets. “Actually, it’s not fully released in the states yet. I got pre access to the game.” He watches you smile, and suddenly there's a slight tense feeling in his chest.

“That’s really cool, are you a beta tester or something?” He shrugs. “No, and it’s whatever.” He glances away, gaze holding on the wall. “Well I think it’s really cool, especially since it's a series you like.” “How do you know that?” His gaze snaps back to you, suddenly defensive. “Your backpack is open and the sun is reflecting off of the cold backing of the trading cards.” You lazily point to the stairs above you, and there is the reflected image of the symbol on the cards. “Those are the collectors additions, from japan. I know because I’ve been looking for that exact deck for my brother.”

You watch as his cheeks dust a light pink color, lightly nudging his bag so it falls over. He starts avoiding eye contact, leaning back fully against the old AC unit. “Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be cleaning up your sweater?” You lean back against the stairs. “Yeah, maybe. But I think you’re kinda cool, and I’d like to stay.”

It was rather silent the rest of lunch, when you tried to hold a conversation- he would end it with short answers that gave you nothing to build off of. The bell rings above you like the screech of an angered bird. You both get up, him raising from the floor before you. You brush the dirt off of the back of your thighs, the light sound of unzipping catching your attention. You watch as the zipper of his hoodie comes down as he pulls it. Yanking it off of his shoulders, revealing the greenish-grey long sleeve he had under it.

“Here. Even if you get the food off, it’ll still stain.” He hands you the coat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, the already open flap lolling open even more. “Oh, thank you, I don’t know what to sa-” “Don’t. Don’t say anything. This never happened.” He walks past you and into the crowd of students, with his head down.

You watch as he does so, eventually looking back down at the hoodie in hand. You feel your face just slightly twinge with heat. “Yeah… Alright.” You say under your breath as you rush off to the nearest bathroom to scrub the food scum from your sweater.

It was a game day.

Not that he kept track of that, he had never been into football. Once upon a time he played soccer, but after he got the Negatrix any hopes of that former love returning was gone. Ben knew it was game day because his cousin was in her cheerleading outfit- and it was no were near time for cheer competitions. Her makeup was done and her strawberry blonde hair was pulled up, and she sat in the front seat of her boyfriend's car chatting to said boyfriend about the routines she had to do.

Ben sat in the back, as he always did, waiting for the drive to be over. It came soon enough as the car pulled into the drop off area in front of the school, slowing to a stop. Neither Tennyson waited for it to fully stop before opening their doors. He got out, closing it with a slam and without a thank you. Gwen still leaning in and talking. The chatter of the hoard of tired teenagers flocking into the building almost drowned out the shouting of his name.

Almost.

He groans, looking over his shoulder, spotting the mass of pastels jogging towards him with something in their arms. “I’m so glad I got here on time! They were packed this morning- and I thought I'd be late- but I made it.” In your arms is his hoodie and an espresso smoothie. You hand him your gifts with a large smile. “I um, washed the jacket for you. Thanks again.” The bell rings and you give a quick wave before pushing into the school building yourself.

His jaw hangs slack, looking down at his freshly cleaned jacket- lint free, folded, and still warm- and the smoothie. When he moves there's a light cracking from inside the jacket, like the sound of a chip bag. He pulls back one of the folds and there is a bag of kale chips, stuck to it is a yellow sticky note written on with a pink gel pen. A phone number with “See you at lunch.”

“Who was that?” Ben looks over at his cousin, an impressed smirk on her lips.

“You’re getting mileage out of this, huh?” “Soooo much.”

#proship dni #alternate bens x reader #ben 10 x reader #ben tennyson x reader #nega ben x reader

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