#she's also wearing old fishnets

[wis-art]

she caught another rainbow trout...

[anik245]

please Order here👇👇👇

https://tinyurl.com/28ntmetb

[redr0sewrites]

Hazbin Hotel Characters with a Goth S/o

this is basically how some of ththe hazbin characters would support their goth s/o- as a goth person this is literally so self-indulgent lmao

🥀Pairing(s): lucifer x reader, velvette x reader, adam x reader, alastor x reader

🥀 Cw: fluff!

Lucifer

lucifer is a little confused and intimidated about your style at first, he definitely asks a lot of questions

VERY supportive once u explain it, hes very much the "okay dear" type

honestly i think he would find it super attractive, the way u express yourself is just so admirable to him

i feel like lucifer is very fidgety and is always losing focus, and one tjing that i do is that im ALWAYS fidgeting with thr chains and accessories on my outfits so like imagine him just standing super close to you and gently rearranging your chains and necklaces for you...

he would let you teach him how to do makeup and eyeliner and would definitely let you practice styles on him!

lucifer would also help you get ready too, always willing to offer some positive feedback or help with makeup and hair

i also think lucifer adores it when you give him music recommendations, and would get super into a lot of the bands that you like

i personally hc him as a siouxsie and the banshees fan bc i just feel like the elegant vibes fit him very well, but i also think he'd like strawberry switchblade too and just goth stuff like that

overall very supportive and super sweet and silly when it comes to your fashion

Velvette

gosh she needs more love

you both are fashion ICONS okay like even before you both become official she is blown away by your style and authenticity

she def designs special fashion items just for you, she makes a whole line of clothes based off of u and ur aesthetic

velvette LOVES matching with you and loves incorporating both of your individual styles into your matching outfits, whether youre more mallgoth or romantic goth or trad goth or anything in between, she is totally inspired by you and your fits and will always want to inspire you in return

def buys you things she seed and thinks you'd like or look good in, regardless of price. her gifts range from thrifted maxi dresses abd fishnets to priceless jewelry and makeup LIKEEEEE omg

velvette LOVES when u wear something she bought for u or designed for u as well

yall are always late for social events bc u HAVE to be the best dressed couple there i swear

also if u wear chunky boots or platforms and ur taller than her???? expect her to pull you down for kisses bc URGH seeing you sm taller than her does something to her

guys i have a type help

Adam

adam thinks your hot af if you're goth

hes the type to make big tiddy goth gf jokes im sorry💀

in all seriousness tho he would LOVE a goth s/o

adam def likes alternative/rock music and he would think it's awesome if you introduced him to some goth bands

he would LOVE the scary bitches, death grips, and also sisters of mercy too

i def think goth people would be much more rare in heaven than in hell, and he would get SO defensive on your behalf if anyone said anything about you or your fashion

honestly hes your number one fan and LOVES giving his input on your fits

honestly your closet doubles when you date him, adam loves seeing you wear his rings and punk jewelry and i def think he has a lot of old band shirts and stuff for his band, so he would love seeing you wear his oversized shirts

if u have piercings WOOWHEE bc adam asks SO MANY QUESTIONS

he thinks theyre so hot ngl, and i def think he has a few piercings and will buy u both matching jewelry

adam would learn to play songs you like on the guitar for you as well

i dont think hed be super keen on letting you put makeup on him but he'd fold after a little persuasion

i honestly think he'd like eyeliner and how he looks wearing it but doesn't want to admit it bc he doesn't want to seem too feminine (but u know ofc)

Alastor

before even meeting you he was fascinated by your style and boldness

alastor loves people who are unique, and someone who chooses to stand out so much definitely catches his eye

he'd find you very aesthetically appealing and would often find himself wanting to be around you more and learn more about you, your style, and goth culture in general

over this time period is probably when he started to develop feelings for you

alastor would def like the romantic/vampire goth look, that whole genre in general is just very elegant and classy while also nonconformist, which definitely speaks to him

when it comes to music alastor would probably be a little skeptical at first, especially when it comes to new technology, however if you (like me) have a record player and vinyl, i def think he would like listening to some of your fav goth bands on that

i dont really know why but i gen think he'd be a fan of the cure, sure its pretty basic but the vibe of some of the songs can be upbeat and kinda jazzy, and they just have that "old timey" vibe i think alastor would appreciate

alastor is fascinated with the process in which you get ready, and enjoys just sitting and watching in peaceful silence as uou do your makeup and pick out your outfit

if you (like most goths) are into creepy and unusual decor, he would LOVE to help you decorate your room

alastor has the strangest taste in interior design and loves sharing his unhinged ideas with you

overall alastor loves people with a lot of individuality and would definitely find a goth partner appealing because of that !!

THIS IS GETTING SO LONG HELP IM PROB GONNA MAKE A PT2 W MORE CHARACTERS HEHE- THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR ALASTOR AND VELVETTE I HOPE I DID THEM JUSTICE!!! WE NEED MORE LOVE FOR VELVETTE SHES SOOOOO AJSJDJD- anywaysssss hope yall enjoyed!!! feel free to req more, esp if u want a pt2 to this >:D

[lumi-of-the-universe]

Esther Finch really is the Evil Woman of all time to me. She’s hundreds of years old and wears fishnet tights. She’s a powerful witch but she also throws hands. She carries around an iron cane I guess just in case she runs into ghosts. She beat a man to death with that cane. She’s fed hundreds of little girls to a giant snake. She turned her pet crown human to use him as a honeypot. Her first scene has her drive off with her coat hanging out the door. She smokes a pipe.

[s0fti3w1tch]

Another AU Leonardo?

large text: Another AU Leonardo? /end large text

Forgot I never posted her. Had her for a couple months now. Transfemme Leonardo btw :] Her name is Doremi (from the 'Do' part of Leonardo)

This is for a Casey (Cassandra)-centric I haven't talked about publicly whoops. She's Casey's childhood friend and was separated from the other turtles and raised by Draxum (and Big Mama).

Image Description: Digital drawing of Alternate Universe Leonardo from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Details written on the side show she's named Doremi, goes by she/her, 5'5 feet tall, 16 year old, transfemme, and queer. She's drawn in a casual pose, longsword over her shoulders. Instead of canon Leo's outfit, she wears no mask, has a dark red short kunoichi-inspired sleeveless wrap dress tied with a black obi-style sash that's in a bow in the back, black bicycle shorts, black combat wraps on ankles, and black sheer + fishnet style undershirt and fingerless gloves. She also has few scattered slashing scars on her body, along with two small ones just at her left cheek. /End ID

[essentiallyleaf]

day 03. wall sex. with. winter.

1113 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, dom(?) reader, sub girlfriend winter, making out, daddy kink, wall sex, lift and carry, standing doggy, semi-public sex, a smidge of size kink, barely edited, actually about as long as i expected this time.

notes.

honestly, not that much to say. oh right, i don’t actually know if a wall sex kink/fetish actually exists, which is perhaps not a minor concern for a kinktober piece. so if it really does, let me know, and if it doesn't, help me make it a thing and specifically winto’s thing. solidly, leaf.

You step between her legs, hanging slightly parted off the counter as she sits on it. She’s still staring at the window to her left, so you caress her cheek and redirect her chin towards you, trying to fish something out of the sea blue colored contacts Winter wears on her eyes. You love that color on her. You kiss her lips softly, they’re slightly wet. Your mouths detach as you bring a second hand between her jaw and her neck.

The only thing that comes off your hook is lust.

So you kiss your girlfriend again, this time longer and deeper; you feel her tongue brush your lips, so you retaliate with yours. It starts as a little game, taking turns exploring each other’s mouths, but the longer it goes, the longer you feel her trying to take more space past your entrance, so you let her in.

That’s how it is with her: she only needs to ask. “Can we go to the animal shelter tomorrow?”; “Can I read manga with you while we’re on the train?”; “Can you get me that cute black one piece over there?” (That’s when you bought her the dress she’s wearing right now. And it’s not cute. On her, combined with that messy bun and those fishnets, it looks fucking filthy). Then, the magic word. They always taught you it was “Please”, but really, it’s what comes after: “Daddy?”

That’s why when she grabs the collar of your leather jacket to pull you towards her, when she wraps her arms and legs around you like she needs you, like she’s a koala that needs to make sure it won’t fall from its tree while sleeping, you give in. Because there’s no one else that can grant Winter’s wishes like you do, just like there’s no one else that needs you as much as Winter does.

Which takes on an extremely carnal meaning as you lift her from the counter and turn around, your hands on her ass and your forearms supporting her thighs. She’s so tiny and light, you don’t need all that support, but you want to feel her every inch of her body on yours.

You wander through a couple rooms, looking for a bedroom in the enormous maze-like mansion. Given the handicap of having Winter kiss you the whole way through and of barely being able to keep your eyes open because of that, it’s a miracle that you don’t slam into a doorframe or trip on a carpet in the process. Then, her impatience takes over.

“Let’s do it here”

You look around the room, puzzled. It looks like some kind of library, though at least one third of the shelves of the old-fashioned white carved bookcases is almost empty. “Where?”

Your girlfriend stretches her arm towards the wall behind her, palming it as if trying to get a grasp of its texture.

“Isn’t this good enough,” she knows she can’t get it so easily, but she also knows the most direct shortcut, “Daddy?”

She doesn’t need an answer. She needs you to slam her into the wall, pull her little slutty black one piece up to her waist and her thin, almost see through black panties to the side, rip those fishnets apart and fuck her. As you find out, she also doesn’t need any foreplay, her slit and crotch already wet just from the prolonged make-out session, which finally comes to end as you switch from her mouth to the junction of her neck and shoulder.

You kiss, lick, and suck the same spot over and over for several minutes as you pump into her with feral instinct, her hand now gripping your hair tightly; she even pulls on it a little - it hurts, but that’s not your biggest priority right now. You need to mark Winter as yours, she’s your girlfriend, your (this exact moment, a little less) soft, sweet fluffball, she’s your tiny fuckdoll. And as such you shall use her.

Thrust upwards into her like that’s what she was built for, like there’s nothing stopping you. Meanwhile, the only thing stopping her is the wall behind her, which feels cold on her nape and asscheeks, stark contrast with her boiling hot clavicle and pussy.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy”

It’s not a request this time. It’s a factual statement. She orgasms silently, so overwhelmed by the bursts of pleasure flowing from her pussy to her brain to what feels like every inch of her body, that she simply goes limp. Fortunately, you and the wall are there to hold her.

It takes her a good couple minutes to even be able to feel the world around her, past the overpowering signals coming from her own body. That’s enough for you to ask her:

“Now, I’m gonna need you to hold onto that wall, just for a little bit longer, okay? Can you do that for Daddy?”

You wouldn’t be able to tell from her still dazed face, but as she lowers her legs and tries her very best to stand up, you know Winter understood perfectly, and this is her “Yes, daddy”.

She looks so precious as you hold her hips up and help her turn around, her palms on the wall, fingers tensing like she’s trying to find something to grip onto. So precious that you just wrap your arms all around her waist as you split her tight slit open for a second time and start shoving yourself in and out of her repeatedly.

You know you can’t last long, so you try to get your girlfriend to a second high, though you don’t know if she can even feel much given her state. You turn her head to the side to kiss her again and you reach towards one of her little boobs and start groping her, first through, then inside her daddy’s girl dress.

It’s when your other hand presses upon her clit that she completely loses it. She lets out a sequence of animalistic guttural moans you never heard from her, and watery liquid starts gushing on your cock and out of her pussy while her walls clench rhythmically. The combined pressure of the two triggers your own orgasm, as you deposit buckets of white honey into her womb until she can’t take any more and semen drips out of her pussy and onto the floor.

You hold Winter tightly, almost squeezing her against the wall as her knees threaten to give up completely; you kiss her temple repeatedly as she pants heavily.

“How are we gonna go back downstairs for the party?”

“You can carry me for a while! Please, daddy?”

-

footnotes.

wow i think i actually wrote different characters this time. this one was a little crammed, but i’m pretty satisfied with the end result. it feels like i’m slowly finding out which things i like writing more and which less and more generally about my identity as a writer. i’m still a sprout, but i think i’m learning a lot. sorry if i bored you and you’re now asleep and somehow still reading. do let me know how to do that! dreamily, leaf.

[syrupfog]

Hmmmm Sanji keeps his dress from Kambakka but one day when he’s looking for something deep in his locker the dress falls out and the crew get ahold of it. 

They think he’s stolen it from some poor girl and they scold him for it, how dare he actually act on his perv tendencies?

And Sanji like. Feels real weird and sad and upset and doesn’t understand why. Just grabs the dress and throws it overboard in a huff. Doesn’t explain to them where it came from because why would he. 

But he. He dwells on it. He’d kept the dress because he liked it.

Well. The dress was ugly. But he liked what it did to him. Made him feel… soft inside. 

But he can’t buy another one, not now. He knows, intrinsically, that it would be soul destroying for the crew to find a second dress and connect the dots— that they would realise that the dress is for him. That they would call him perverted for wanting to actually wear the dress. 

It’s one thing to yell at him for stealing a dress. It’s another thing entirely for them to yell at him for owning it for himself.

He doesn’t know why. Just knows that it would hurt. So badly. For them to associate perverted actions with his desire to feel that… softness again.

So he doesn’t. He doesn’t dare buy anything like that again, buries that self down deep for years. 

Maybe it’s after Luffy’s become pirate king. Maybe it’s after everything has settled down a bit. The crew meets with the Revolutionary Army and Iva is there.

And damn him, Iva just KNOWS things he shouldn’t, can strip someone bare with just a look. But when he looks to Sanji his expression is so SAD and it makes Sanji angry. How dare he be disappointed in him? Sanji’d never promised him anything, any change.

Maybe Iva takes him aside and Sanji’s ready for a lecture or a fight but all Iva does is say that if Sanji wants, he can raid Iva’s closet anytime. He’s welcome to anything in it. 

Sanji knows that there’s a lot of fishnets and leotards in there, but also… those dresses.

And maybe, I mean, they’re in a public place, maybe Zoro overhears. 

And he’s close enough to clock Sanji’s expression. He’s known the cook long enough to know what yearning looks like on him.

I dunno! I dunno what happens next! Probably that Zoro watches Sanji a lot because that’s what he does! Probably that he reevaluates small things like the way Sanji gazes in shop windows! Probably he does something really stupid like makes brazen comments at dinner

About how the revolutionaries could probably teach Nami a thing or two about clothes and even the guys look good in those romper things and skirts or whatever. 

He’s probably real bad at it!! He’s saying dumb shit and Nami gets mad because she dresses just how she wants shut up!

Man. I dunno it prob still takes a while. But this is still before Sanji and Zoro are together. Because I think that Zoro supporting Sanji as a member of the crew is nice, that Sanji never worries that this is Zoro being blinded by love and willing say do things he doesn’t mean.

Like this is gruff annoying Zoro who fights with him and argues with him but Sanji sees the openings he gives. 

Maybe the next time, another 6 months or a year down the line, that they see Iva, Zoro drags Sanji to her closet. Says “come on cook she could teach you some lessons in fashion, the suits are getting old.” 

And maybe that’s the first time in three or four years that Sanji considers it. Puts on a dress that’s tight around the waist and it’s not tailored well— all his suits are tailored perfectly— but he gets that soft feeling again.

And it’s so fucking embarrassing to cry in front of Zoro so he doesn’t. 

Or at least Zoro doesn’t comment on it. 

And Zoro insists that Sanji takes it. He grabs a few others and throws them into Sanji’s arms and he’s somehow managed to pick out the most hideous ones that Sanji can imagine, but he’s overwhelmed and touched. 

And maybe he starts small, back on the ship, but Zoro acts as a guard dog against the idea of anyone saying anything. Only has to actually snap at someone once (it’s Brook. Come on, man.) about how it’s not a perv thing get your eyes fixed (yohoho I don’t have eyes!) and Sanji takes a bit to recover from that but he does. Eventually. 

And dresses aren’t an all the time thing they’re impractical and sometimes just not what his brain wants.

But maybe an extra bit of lace on his suits is good sometimes. Or a bodice under his collared shirt, just for the shape it gives him. 

Or, on very rare occasions (when most of the crew is off exploring for the day) a miniskirt. 

Maybe some days it’s nothing.

It’s fine. It’s all fine. It just gives him that soft feeling inside, that settled, good feeling. 

It’s just, you know, a quiet happy ending.

(Also yeah he and Zoro start hooking up and then get together and all of that is messy as HELL and full of fights and crying and two day breakups and getting back together but that’s a different thing. Totally unrelated).

[shojizbae]

My Rave Babies

Spencer Reid x Reader

rave baby part two

For three weeks, your coworkers had been barraged nonstop about your scandalous habits. "So, listen to any good EDM?" or " Going to any parties?" had been ringing in my ears all week. The team had managed to sneak in puns during a case.

"Well, that sheriff was just raving, man." Derek leaned against the counter and brought a paper cup to his mouth

"Enough," I groan and toss my head back

"C'mon, you can't just tell us you used to go to raves and then not take us," Emily explains

"We are in the dead of the midwest. Will a serial rapist be on the loose, and you're thinking about going to a rave?" I fill up a paper cup with coffee

"Well, do you know of any back home?" JJ offers, sliding effortlessly into the conversation.

"JJ, you have kids," I whine

"Will can watch them for the night." She refutes

"I can't. I'm going back to the murder case before this town is traumatized further." It's a less effective duck-out, but it draws attention away. Hotch gives me a bit of a look as I rejoin a discussion with an exhausted look.

"I hope you didn't stay up all night partying." He teases

"No, I got a full night's rest. I'm ready to take this guy in." Deny. Deny. Deny.

The case came to a close two days later, with the man castrating himself and then slitting his throat. Unfortunately, the connection that all of the victims had was that they frequented the same club. An EDM / Rocker club with very Rave-like vibes. The jokes flew on the plane ride home.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'm going to call my old friend. She'll let me know what's going on in town."

"Really?" Morgan jumps at the statement

"Yeah, don't make me regret this."

~

It was four days later that a festival would be in town for the weekend. I informed the team that tickets needed to be bought. I also let them know they should be on high alert for roofies and perverts. Skimpy clothes and loud music were catalysts for freaks.

"So you're really knocking the dust off?" Morgan holds an FBI mug up to his lips. He's got an all too-full-of-himself grin on his smug little face.

"Yeah, you're coming too?"

"Yeah, so is Emily."

"And me!" JJ holds each of my shoulders, "I'm so excited, Will hasn't stopped ogling the outfit in my closet. He said he needed to borrow some floss and held it up on the hanger."

"Is anyone else coming?"

"Yeah, Penelope and Spencer," Emily says

"Reid?" I nearly snort my coffee out

"That's my name." He traipses into the kitchen and dumps half the can of sugar into his mug.

"I figured a rave would be a little out of your comfort zone. You're really coming?"

"I-i-It is. But I'm trying some exposure therapy."

"I thought that has been disproven." Emily counters

"Clinically, yes. But some of the results of those who have conquered fear through exposure therapy are too nice to pass up. You know, in recent studies-"

"Yeah, we get it you're going." Derek cuts him off

"So, have you picked out an outfit?"

"It's no Halloween, but I figured I should just wear what I always do."

"What?"

~

The night came faster than I had expected. One night, I was filling out a report on a serial arsonist; the next, I was tying myself into a bikini and zipping up giant platform boots. I put on a silky kimono to disguise the scandalous outfit. We all taxied to the nearby party meeting to get our tickets and a wristband checked. Emily and JJ looked phenomenal. Penelope was show-stopping, though. A galaxy-printed dress, giant boots, and fishnets, bejeweled with bracelets and a bucket hat.

Derek was primarily shirtless, though he found a neon fishnet shirt and tactical boots over some burning man cargo shorts. Finally, Reid was the last of the group. Surrounded by a thousand people in their skivvies, he stuck out like a sore thumb in gray slacks, a purple pinstripe button-down, and a sweater vest. The most crazy part of his outfit was his mismatched DC and Marvel socks.

"Wow, you look-"

"You look," I motion up and down at him. "You know, for the youngest on the team, you look like you're babysitting." He laughs, but it seems like he's shriveling on himself.

"Don't worry, you look great," I reassure and slide my hand up and down his bicep reassuringly. Even if I'm typically a touchy person that gesture might seem too forward for coworkers so I retract my arm awkwardly.

"Dang, (Y/n), where were you hiding that body?" Emily came and patted me on the ass and then slung her arm over my shoulder.

"Ok, tipsy, why don't we get you some water?" I unfurl her from me

"That sounds great," Reid clears his throat. "My throat is feeling a little dry." Emily wraps herself around me, and JJ slings an arm over Reid's shoulder. Morgan follows behind us, and we find some bottles of water that are way overpriced. Music begins to bump behind us, and I drag the group into the heart of the crowd. Morgan rears off when he finds some girls eyeballing him. Penelope follows Derek to a group of fun.

JJ and Emily stay close by but jump and sway with the thrumming music. Reid looks out of place like a black sheep.

"DOC!" I shout over the loud music

"Yeah!"

"You look stiff!" I jump around and scream at him.

"I'm not much of a dancer. Maybe I should just go home."

"What?" I stop jumping. C'mon, you've just got to feel the music." I take a step closer. Thanks to the giant shoes I wear, I'm much closer to his face than I usually am. I loop my fingers into the belt loops on his hips and take another step closer. "C'mon, man, you've just got to feel the rhythm." with my hands, I make him sway his hips to the beat. With a bit of encouragement, he starts to do so by himself.

"Ok, just jump around. Let yourself feel free." I twist and jump to the ear-splitting music. He raises his arms apprehensively, and I fling mine on top of him to show him it's fine. With my permission, he raises them and starts to flail freely.

"Alright, pretty boy, get into it." Derek teases

"Don't listen to him. You look great." I jump and swing my arms like a toddler. Lost in the moment, I spin around to show off my back and shake my hips. I lose my control and dance like a maniac. I back up onto Reid and sway with him. As I feel eyes on us, Reid jumps away from me.

"Are you two having fun?" JJ drawls

"Have you been drinking?" I shout

"A lot!" She responds

"I'm having so much fun. Why did you stop this?" Emily screams

"The hangover you'll have tomorrow? Yeah, have fun taking a jet ride with your ears trying to compress into your skull. And one time I caught a nasty STI from hooking up with someone in a port-a-potty."

"What ew," Emily fake retches.

"Don't worry, I took antibiotics." The music came thrumming through the speakers as a new DJ started their set. Immediately, I recognized her and started leaping like a manic shrimp. "Oh my god, I love this song!" I twisted around and grabbed each of Reid's wrists.

"C'mon, dance with me!" my mind disappeared in the bass. Nothing else mattered but the feeling of my feet pounding into the dirt and the occasional collision of Spencer's limbs. Slowly, the thrumming of the tempo migrated to my ankles.

"Alright, it has been a long time since I've danced like this. I need a break."

"Yeah, I don't think these are the best dance shoes either." there's sweat on his brow, but he holds up one of his feet to show off the brown loafers.

"Let's find the rest of the group," I whisper scream in his ear. In the proximity, I feel my torso press to his. I nearly roll my ankle and he catches me by my hip. He stands me back up and steadies my hips.

"Ok, let's get you to a cab," We find Derek quickly. He only has one girl who won't let go of his bicep tonight. Emily, JJ, and Penelope cling back to us, and we leave the grounds all slightly limping. We all file into a taxi and people filter out of the car slowly.

"I think I'm going to get out here and just take the metro home." JJ and I are the only two left in the vehicle as Penelope gets out of the car.

"What no, just stay in the car. I'll drive you home."

"No, that's far too much."

"I could drive you home." JJ offers as we turn down the corner of her street."

"No, you live further than her."

"Reid, I'll drive you home," I demand.

"Alright, you two have a good night." JJ slinks out of the cab, and we watch Will open the door, and she leaps into his arms.

'the kids are sleeping.' I read from his lips

"They're going to have a fun night." I snort. Reid shrinks on himself again. "C'mon, you've had to have some sort of fun like this."

"No,"

"No?" The cab takes us to my neighborhood, and we get out. Reid insists on paying the driver. I let him in and opened the front door. He takes the same space on my couch and groans from the pain. I bring two cans of lemon seltzer water and slump down with my legs across his lap on the couch. I crack the cans and hand one to him.

"Oh, thank you," he takes it, and I take a big slurp of mine. I extend a foot up and put my ankle near his face

"Could you unzip me?"

Uh, uh, sure." He holds my ankle and tugs the zipper down the inside of my calf. Once it's down, I use my other foot to push it off with my other foot. I hold up the second foot and he obeys, tugging off himself.

"Thank you, I roll, crack my ankles, and sigh in relief. "Whew, those were killing me." I start to roll down my thigh-high fishnets.

"Uh, would you like to go to the bedroom to get changed?"

"No, I'm fine like this." I pull the second sock off. I readjust the slipper kimono and tug one of my blankets up my shoulders. I twist around to lie on Reid's chest, straddling his leg.

"Uh, what are you,"

"I'm tired, Spencer." I dig into his chest with my own and loop my arms around his neck. I readjust myself even more around him. His tie stabbed me in my temple, and I tugged it off his chest.

"Uh (Y/n), what are you-"

"Calm down," I say, undoing his top buttons for the skin-to-skin contact my body craves. Your chest is warm." I cuddle into it and kiss his collar.

"I had a good night, Spencer," I sink further into his frame and pull the blanket on harder. I feel a hand thread its way into my hair but dreamland takes me away.

"I had a good night too."

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Little Girl Gone Mob Boss AU Headcanons

A/N: Alright my brain woke up feral this morning with a bunch of head canons for my new series that I've been working on so here you go the fruit of my labor. Also there are mentions of t*row up, mentions of killing, and actual depictions of killing so please read at your own caution. 18+ HC are marked as such

Minors/men DNI

SFW

-Y/N buying Wanda all the pretty rings and necklaces because you love seeing her wear them

-Wanda shows you pictures from high school when she was emo which is something you hadn't expected from the suburban mom

-After you learn this information you slowly add things to her wardrobe such as black skirts like she used to wear and band shirts and fishnetting

-The first time you see her in a little black pleated skirt you go feral. Luckily the boys are at school and you take her right on the kitchen counter

-She decides to wear skirts more often after that. Usually when she wants something.

-You slowly teach the boys how to fight, but don't introduce them to anything dangerous. Not until they're much much older.

-Wanda also eventually gets in on the self defense lessons

-Wanda and you go out regularly for date nights and taking the boys out trying to keep your lives as normal as possible

-When you propose to Wanda it’s at a fancy restaurant where you guys have a private room

-She says yes (of course) and you couldn’t be happier

-You guys decide to have your wedding in Sokovia and do a traditional Sokovian wedding

-When you guys have your first dance you include the boys where you start the dance together then you dance with Billy and her with Tommy and then you two switch off.

-You guys end up having a baby girl after getting married

-At this point the boys would be old enough that you offer the choice to them of joining and both do say yes, but Billy focuses on the business side of things and asks to go to college for business. He ends up double majoring in Business and law.

-Tommy also goes for a business degree, but ends up switching to go into nursing and becomes a Trauma Certified Registered Nurse to be able to deal with injuries that happen in the family business.

NSFW 🔞 

-Both you and Wanda are switches

-the first time you two try and do things and she calls herself ‘Mommy’ it sends you into a PTSD panic attack because of Natasha calling herself Daddy.

-Wanda soothes you back down and is such a soft Dom the whole time and everytime until you ask for more.

- “M-Mommy please r-rougher,” your lips parted, tongue out as you try to roll your hips on her strap. She's edged you for hours into a blissed out state.

- “Whatever my princess wants she'll get.” She grabs your hips with a bruising force as she sinks deeper and moves her hips roughly until you're screaming and crying and begging Mommy to let you cum

- “You've been such a good girl. Go on cum for Mommy baby. You deserve it for being such a good girl.” 

-The first time you were on top you weren't sure because you had never done it, but you wanted to try it. 

-You realized how good it felt but struggled with what you wanted Wanda to call you. Mistress, Master, Sir, Ma'am, King, Queen, Goddess, Owner, Handler, Boss, Captain. You two felt like you went through everything until one night Wanda tentatively brought it up,

- “I know how you feel about it, but maybe…we could try Daddy?” Her words throw you through a loop. “I think it could be helpful even. You'd be such a better Daddy than her.” Wanda puts a reassuring hand on your thigh. “You'd be the best.”

-It's her words of encouragement that make you give it a try because she just sounds so soft and genuine.

-You have Wanda beneath you, a pretty collar and leash on her as you slowly sink inside of her with the cum filled strap the two of you recently purchased. 

-Once your hips start moving, slow at first, you're hitting that spot that she loves and she just moans out, “Right there Daddy! Please Daddy harder!” And you go absolutely feral as you pump harder and rougher, pulling on her leash as you do so, both of you having a rather quick build up, “Gonna breed you baby. Gonna have my babies inside of you. You're gonna give me a set of twins right?” Wanda is so blissed out that all she can manage is, “Yesh Daddy m'gon cum!”

-During the aftercare Wanda assures you of how much she loved it. She could see how worried you were over becoming more like Natasha, but her words soothed you.

-As you two were cuddling up, watching TV afterwards she spoke up, “Would you actually want another set of twins?” You shrug, “if it happened I wouldn't be upset, but I'd love to even just make one mini us.” You tell her wholeheartedly which brings tears to her eyes. “I love you Wands. I wanna spend forever with you. I know this lifestyle isn't ideal for a family, but-” she cuts you off with a bruising kiss as she crawls into your lap. “I love you too Y/N/N. We'll make it work. I fell in love with this, with you so we'll make it work.”

NSFW Mob life HC

-You still take care of business mostly at home.

-The basement is off limits to the boys and is under several locks along with a fingerprint scanner and a pass code only you, Carol, and Maya know. 

-One day Wanda comes with you to the basement even though you've told her a million and one times that she doesn't have to be involved in the business she insists. 

-She watches a side of you she's never seen before. The side that Natasha created. It's almost as if she's watching Natasha pull strings on you.

-You torture someone for hours before getting the information from them. You grab your gun and look at Wanda, eyes cold as she trembles.

- “You can look away darling.” You tell her, but she doesn't, eyes fixed on you as the man begs and pleads for his own life, but he made the mistake of being on the wrong side of things, on Natasha’s side. 

- “If I let you go Natasha will pick up where I left off. Slowly torturing you until you die a slow and painful death. This is mercy.” You tell him and fire your gun right between his eyes. Blood and brain splatter everywhere. Especially on you.

- “Carol, clean this mess up and show Kamala how it’s done. She needs to learn. I need a shower and I need this all done and out of the house before the boys get home. I'm gonna send Maya out with America to check up on the info we were given.” 

-You turn your attention to Wanda holding out a hand to her, “Come on darling. Shower.” There was some blood on her and you helped her upstairs. Wanda didn't talk the whole time until you were drying her hair on the bed. “How do you do that?” She whispers and you barely catch it.

- “When Natasha trained me. I actually threw up a lot. It disgusted me to my core. I had a hard time handling it, but everytime I did something right she'd praise me. Reward me. The last time I killed for her she praised me because I only threw up after I killed the man. Now I'm…it's like I'm not me. I dissociate from it in the moment.” 

-Wanda turns towards you, crawling into your lap, nuzzling against your neck and letting her hands get under your shirt and onto your back for more skin contact. “Thank you for taking care of us. I always appreciated it before, from the moment you saved us, but now after seeing what you do…I can appreciate it even more.”

-After much back and forth Wanda wants to help out. At first you have her work in your office at the computer on record keeping, but she says she wants to get out of the house so you allow her on safe calls. Mainly to get money from people along with Kamala. 

-You never let her go into dangerous situations. 

-You always make sure Maya tails the two girls when they go out especially when Wanda first starts, but you see that Wanda is able to handle her own.

-One time Wanda comes home trying to hide all the cuts, scraps, and bruises after fighting with someone over their rent.

-You freak out when you see it and after cleaning her all up the two of you go back out and you take care of him in front of Wanda. Showing her how to overpower someone bigger.

-You keep the man on edge making him constantly think that he’s going to die until he’s begging for his life and has pissed himself.

-There comes a breaking point between you and Natasha which leads to an all out war between your two mobs

-After a lot of loss on both sides Natasha and you go at each other which ends up with her losing her life when she can’t just accept how things are now.

-Though Yelena wants to kill you over this Kate convinces her not to

-You and Clint come to an agreement of a truce. Which ends the decade long fight at this point

- “I didn’t want it to end this way.” Tears streamed down your face as your knees crashed to the hard ground beside Natasha’s body. “You were terrible to me. Treated me like I was nothing and yet I still wanted to see you change. To be better!” Wanda holds you as you cry and shake in her arms not realizing all the emotional turmoil that you felt towards Natasha even after all these years.

[anik245]

[pileofmush]

don't crush the wings

pairing ➸ luffy x fem!reader

details ➸ tags: modern au! humor & spice! gratuitous use of the f-bomb // cw: no smut, but a little suggestive; drinking. everyone's at least 20 & this doesn't take place in america; reader wears a dress & is called a girl at one point // wc: 2k

a/n ➸ happy halloween! 🎃 muahahaha

“We are gonna get fucked up tonight,” Nami sings into your ear with a sharp giggle. She’s sitting on your lap, turned towards you with a long bottle in her dainty, manicured hand. Fishnets run up her thighs, up, up, up into her short black miniskirt, and the fabric rides up farther as she wiggles in your lap. 

“Or just fucked,” you mutter, side-eyeing your friend. You know for a fact that Nami has goals she plans to achieve by the end of the night, and they probably have something to do with a pretty girl whose name starts with ‘V’ and ends with ‘ivi’. 

It’s Halloweekend, a Friday night, and you’re pregaming in the shoddy little apartment you share with Nami and Usopp. Nami’s dressed to kill as an alluring vampire vixen, and Usopp’s fiddling with the zipper of his Party City superhero costume. Knowing your friends, you expect for a little mayhem to occur tonight. Especially considering the party you’ll be attending: hosted by none other than the ASL brothers. 

If there’s one things you can trust the ASL brothers to do, it’s to wreak havoc on society. If there’s a second thing you can trust the ASL brothers to do, it’s to throw a decent party. 

Nami swats your thigh at your remark and thrusts the bottle into your hands. “Drink more,” she orders. “You’re not nearly drunk enough.” You fumble for your Hello Kitty shot glass and pour liquor into your glass.

“Just drink from the bottle,” Nami chides, fingers curling around the hem of your dress. You take this in stride; sink into the spotty old couch Usopp salvaged from a flea market with a sigh. Nami’s a flirty drinker: you know this. Get a couple drinks in her and she’ll get touchy and bossy—or, bossier than she already is. The girl cocks her chin up at you in challenge. “Don’t be a pussy.” She’ll also get mouthy.

You reject her protests with a minute shake of your head. “No way.” Usopp trots over from across the room with a matching Hello Kitty glass, and you tip the bottleneck until vodka pours out, to Nami’s displeasure. “I’m not a fucking heathen.” 

“Cheers to that,” Usopp says, then clinks his glass with yours—Hello Kitty to Hello Kitty. He throws his drink back and immediately starts coughing. 

You smile at your friend’s pathetic demonstration, raise your glass, and toss the drink to the back of your throat. It goes down a little smoother than your first had, but still lights a fire in your chest, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 

A loud knock has your head swiveling to the front door. “The calvary is here!” Someone from the other side shouts. 

You say Usopp’s name, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says and shuffles toward the door, probably resenting the day he signed a six-month lease with two bossy girls. He quickly unlocks the door, swinging it wide open. A boy springs through the entrance with a loud whoop, arms in the air. Behind him struts the moss-headed Zoro, who heads straight for the kitchen, determined to find the booze and drink you out of house and home, you’re sure. Hovering by the entrance lingers Sanji, who towers over Usopp.

“Are you seriously dressed as Batman?” You hear him ask.

Usopp’s pitch raises unnaturally as he defends himself. “The ladies love Batman!”

Sanji snorts. “What do you know about ladies?” He asks, stepping around the Walmart Superhero. Suddenly, he halts, gaze locking on you and Nami like a fucking aim-bot. 

“Nami-Swaaaaaaan!~” He croons.

Nami grabs the bottle from your hands and takes a giant swig. 

“And you must be an angel,” the blond appears at your side, sighing dreamily. A crown rests atop his head; his hair shines like spun gold. Blegh.

“A fairy, actually.” You reply, jab your thumb at the iridescent wings strapped to your back. 

He nods reverently. “Ah, but of course. You’re made of faith and trust, magic and whimsy, my ethereal little pixie.” 

You blink once, twice. Wonder if this loon pregamed the pregame, or if he’s just naturally this ridiculous. Nami takes another shot of vodka, and Sanji’s eyes track the curve of Nami’s neck as she gulps and sighs.

Damn it all to hell. You debate stealing the bottle and drinking from it like a heathen. Nami was right. You are most certainly not drunk enough for this. 

Nami and Usopp’s friends are… Well. They’re something, alright. You met the duo in college and fell in love with their snarky energy, but their non-college friends? You pan your head from Sanji and Zoro, who are halfway to beating each other’s faces in in the middle of your kitchen, to their springy friend Luffy, who’s quite literally bouncing off the walls. Yeah… You try to avoid them when you can.

But. Tonight’s Halloween. The one day you’re legally required to make bad decisions. 

So, more alcohol. You tug the bottle from Nami’s death-grip and take a healthy swig. “What happened to ‘not being a fucking heathen?’” She quotes, mirth bubbling in her voice. 

You open your mouth to say something unbelievable witty and dry, but are interrupted. “Who’s fucking heathens?” Someone behind you asks. Both you and Nami turn to face Luffy, who’s leaning over the back of your couch, upside down. 

“Nami,” you deadpan, at the same time she intones your name. 

Luffy laughs, boyish, but also… Not. His hair’s pulled towards the ground, black curls pulled back to reveal thin brows and half-lidded eyes, and the expression is a little… Sexy. Somehow. Impossibly. Kinda lazy-like, with a shit-eating grin, and it’s... 

You clear your throat, feeling a bit warm. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your brothers? Y’know. Hosting a party right now?” You ask. Luffy chortles. In your peripherals you can see Nami considering you, undoubtedly smelling blood in the water. 

“Nah. Ace n’Sabo threw me out ta stop me from eating all the snacks,” he says. His words aren’t quite slurred, but come out as a drawl, low and intoxicating. You have no idea how this man did a complete 180 in the span of 30 seconds. It’s giving you serious whiplash.

The front door opens once more, and Nami lets out a little squeak. Ah, that’s probably Vivi and co. Hmm. Dimmed lights, a sultry voice warbling over the speakers, intermingling with the occasional drunken shout… This is turning out to be a successful pregame. 

Nami jumps off your lap, stealing the bottle from your hands one last time. Her limbs tremble before she inhales deeply, steeling her nerves.

“Have fun,” you say, shooting her a look. 

“Oh, bite me,” the vampire snaps, then stalks off to go flirt with Vivi. You silently wish her luck (the amount of times you’ve had to listen to her hopelessly pine is staggering) and turn back to face Luffy again, a twinge of uncertainty in your gut.

He’s dressed like a football player, you realize. It’s a good look on him. His jersey is neon yellow and trimmed in green, but the color’s not as obtrusive as it might be in brighter lighting. And it shows off his lean figure, which is. Nice.

Appreciative as you are of his frame, you’re thinking up exit strategies by the minute. This is uncharted territory. You can count the number of times you’ve had a one-on-one conversation with the man on a single hand, and, don’t really feel like stumbling your way through small talk.

“You’re glowing,” Luffy notes. “S’pretty.”

Never mind. This is cool.

“Thanks,” you say, sheepish. “It’s the body shimmer. I’m a fairy.”

“A pretty one.”

Ah, fuck. 

You don’t really feel the alcohol all that much, but there’s a pleasant buzz floating through your body, and it’s making you a little more… susceptible. To simple compliments like that. It has your heart stuttering, but in a good way. You want him to say it again.

“What, that you’re pretty? ‘Cause you are.” He nods. “So pretty,” he concludes; dark eyes sweeping over your frame. 

Did you say that aloud? 

You blink. Rack your brain for something coy to say. “You’re, um. Yeah. You’re pretty, too.”

Fuck.

Luffy laughs at that, and you’re grateful, because you are totally off your game tonight. But he doesn’t seem to mind, just leans in closer, still upside down, and it gives you an open view of the column of his throat. Golden brown skin, taut and firm until he swallows. You tense and back up a little to see his whole face.

He’s close, incredibly close. You can smell the Corona on his breath as he exhales. And you don’t really kiss random people at hangouts after only like, two compliments, but your brain is starting to consider him the exception. 

You pull in your bottom lip reflexively, and his eyes dip to your mouth, tracking the motion. His pupils dilate. He looks, he looks hungry.

Fuck fuck fuck—

The door opens again and more people trickle into the apartment, pulling you out of whatever weird ass trance you were in, and you curse. Is this a pregame or a party of its own? The fuck. 

You lean back, hands seeking purchase on the couch cushion to support you, but maybe you’re a little more drunk than you think you are, because you completely overshoot it, body tipping toward the floor. Your head spins as you realize in real-time that you’re about to eat shit, squeezing your eyes shut before impact.

Somehow, quick hands race up your body and flip you so that instead of falling on your back, you’re braced on top of something, cushioning your fall. Your eyes open. Luffy grins from beneath you.

You’re straddling him, you realize. Make to get off him, but his hands tighten on your waist and then loosen. A suggestion. 

You stay. 

Everyone’s eyes are on you, searing into your skin, but they’re nothing compared to the hot hands sliding down, palming your thighs. You don’t know whether to be mortified or grateful that you chose such a short dress. Luffy hums appreciatively.

Grateful it is.

Time to do some damage control.

“Mind your own business,” you hiss, looking up at the room. Everyone returns to their previous occupations, albeit reluctantly, sneaking glances out of the corner of their eyes.

You turn your gaze back to the man underneath you. “How the hell did you do that?” You accuse. It should be humanly impossible for someone to perform such complicated maneuvers—while inebriated, mind you!

He just shrugs. “Didn’t wanna hurt your fairy wings, did ya?”

That is. Ridiculously sweet. 

“Fuck,” you say. It just slips out. 

Luffy’s eyes sharpen. “Yeah?”

“What?” Your breath hitches. God, you sound wrecked. 

Luffy waits a beat. Runs calloused hands up and down your thighs, and you just barely contain yourself from shuddering in his grasp. But it may be for naught, because you’re melting like putty in his hands. 

He yawns, then licks his lips. “Wanna make out?” He asks abruptly. 

It’s at this moment that you wonder exactly how you wound up here. What choices did you make in your life to end up like this? Splayed out on your apartment floor, surrounded by tipsy acquaintances, straddling the most bizarre man you’ve ever had the misfortune to come across? Fucking Halloween, man. This might just be the most humiliating thing you’ve ever experienced. 

...

You say yes.

In the end, you don’t end up making it to that party. 

[lvrtwn]

venus if she was awesome

speedpaint and more thoughts under the cut

venus has always been one of my favorite characters, though i feel her design is pretty underwhelming with a lot of wasted potential. this is kind of a redesign, kind of my own personal headcannon, and kind of how i imagined venus in my head as a kid.

this is supposed to be my version of g1 venus, more similar in facial features and keeping the straight hair. i absolutely love her new hair and face in g3 but im hesitant to call the new outfit an improvement. both g1s outfit and g3s outfit are bad in their own ways. i dont want it to seem like im shitting on the new design. again i think the face sculpts, hair, and body types of g3 are so awesome. its great to see more diversity being included in the designs. i just decided to go with g1 venuses look because thats the venus i grew up with

i definitely took some inspiration from g3s outfit for this design. i like the idea of it but the execution is just not great, not to say her original outfit is any better. i feel like out of all of tge original monsters she was the one with the most waisted potential. i love her personality and the abilities she has but the way she was styled has always bothered me.

in the movies shes described as “eco-punk” which is SUCH a cool style to go with a plant monster character. i just feel like the “punk” in “eco-punk” was never really represented in her outfits. i personally love punk music and clothing; ive been an active member in my local diy scene for many years and i love seeing all the outfits people put together.

i thought i would give her an outfit that shows off a couple of my personal favorite staples of punk style. big chunky leather boots with lots of straps and buckles. kept the shoe mouths from the original because they cool as hell. lots of leather, studs, spikes. i gave her denim cutoff shorts inspired by her gen 3 outfit, same with the torn black top. punk style has a big focus on comfort, practicality, and making things yourself. i imagine she cut a pair of old pants into shorts, roughly cut her “undead kennedys”band shirt tank into a crop top, and probably repurposed the remaining fabric. i also totally didnt draw this whole thing as an excuse to use that pun. i included asymmetrical leg accessories, with one fishnet stocking and one torn up sock. i also feel like she repurposed these, continuing to wear her old torn up socks instead of just throwing them out. i gave her a big chunky studded belt matching one of her cuffs with a recycling symbol belt buckle. i feel like it communicates an important aspect of her personality just at a glance, plus i just love big belt buckles. lastly i added piercings because 1. theyre cool and 2. i for some reason remembered her having an eyebrow piercing but i guess she never had one.

i mostly kept her body and hair the same. changed her ears and hair color slightly but thats just personal preference. i decided to make the vines on her body look more like tattoos instead of being 3d. i imagine she can make them grow into real vines, but when shes not using her powers theyre just flat against her skin. gave her a facial expression that made her look a little more unhinged. she might only do things for the good of the earth but she can still mind control people at will.

i wish i leaned a little bit more into the plant theming but im overall still super happy with how this came out. maybe ill made more monster high redesigns in the future

[roll-for-gaslight]

Fabian

Does not like to admit to having stolen things

Desperately wants to have his friends’ things anyway

Has one of Gorgug’s hoodies, as everyone does

He doesn’t wear it out, only at home

Really likes how big it is on him, uses it to dance in when he’s in his home studio

Has a pair of Fig’s boots since they’re about the same size

She knows, even though she pretends not to

He “borrowed” them to attend one of her concerts and they were never returned

He doesn’t wear them often, but they’re nice

Also one of those fishnet sleeve undershirt thingies from her!!!

He adores this one

He wears it constantly once he has it

Likes the texture

Wears it under big t-shirts with some jeans and it’s cute, if more casual/non-athletic than he would usually go for

Not a lot from Kristen, hates her fashion sense

Has one (1) shirt for each god Kristen has worshiped

He doesn’t wear them

She needed them gone and he was the one who happened to be around to hand them to as she packed up her room

He swiped one of her Cassandra shirts to complete the collection

They’re hanging in the back of his closet and he feels so proud of her every time he sees them for how far she’s come

Also has one of her corn camp rubber bracelets

Not clothes so much but borrows jewelry from Adaine

She doesn’t have a lot but what she does have is very nice from her parents

She doesn’t wear it herself ever because she can’t really stand it

He wears it literally all the time

It’s a little tedious because he has to take it off for dance and owlbears but he puts it right back on after

Similar to Kristen, he would never be caught dead actually wearing Riz’s clothes

He keeps his old briefcase for sentimental value instead

It’s stowed away in the very back corner of his closet

No one ever sees it

Riz assumes the briefcase was lost once he got his new one

Fab just wants to keep it to himself like his own private admission that the Ball is one of his best friends

Adaine | Fig | Fabian | Kristen | Gorgug | Riz

[gothgleek]

I love the idea of rival factions at the Royal court with distinct styles of dress and I think one with untapped potential is the Great Council’s decision to choose the next heir aka Rhaenys vs Viserys.

One of Rhaenys’s greatest strengths is that she comes from three different houses so she would always represent House Targaryen, House Baratheon, and House Velaryon with her clothes. I think her primary colors would be red and gold in a Velaryon style of dress. Red for her dragon (Meleys the Red Queen) and for the Targaryens, and gold for the Baratheons and to show off her wealth. I think she would wear House Velaryon’s colors if she did not she need to assert herself as the Targaryen heir. Wearing a Velaryon styled gown she uses more subtle ways to align herself with the Velaryons. (See the hairstyle drawings for a better crown.)

Additionally, while she is feminine, she knows that Westeros is hesitant to elect a female ruler so she tone down her femininity. Therefore, no low cut dresses and nothing formfitting and nothing too colorful. I see Velaryon style dresses being based on Old Valyria (aka the Byzantine Empire) so a lot of shapeless dresses with a single stripe down the front and a v collar so this works in her favor. Sometimes she would layer these dresses with robes or long sleeves as well. This choice is also encouraged because she would not want to remind Jaehaerys and Alysanne about their relationship to their daughters. She emulates Jahaerys by wearing heavy fabrics, dark colors, dragon scale embroidery, and heavy jewelry like livery collars and crowns. Additionally, Rhaenys would definitely take hunting and dragon riding as an opportunity to network so she would have a whole wardrobe for outdoor activities. This wardrobe would be largely earthy tones to make herself seem more approachable to her hunting party. Again, nothing form fitting so she would wear bloomer style pants or have balloon sleeves. She takes out her copper armor during more serious or more formal occasions.

However, she wouldn’t want to be too masculine because Westeros is not ready for that either. She would wear take fashion cues from Alysanne and wear surcoats, braids, and flowing sleeves in the shape of dragon wings. Inspired by her mother, Rhaenys would wear flared dresses, gable hoods, bejeweled hair bands, and sarafan style sleeves. She would also have elaborate embroidery, statement necklines, a mantle- a long vest or cloak-, prints, and beading on her dresses as well since it’s Velyron fashion. Additionally, Rhaenys would wear elaborate and tall hairstyles with statement hair accessories. Most of these would have metals and gems collected from Corlys’s travels. Corlys would even commission a crown similar to the iron throne and Jae’s crown for her to wear on special occasions.

Rhaenys would always have an updo with a statement piece similar to a crown. Maybe she would wear her hair in braids with pins and rings adorning it for an added flare. Pearls would certainly be her main accessories but use gems from Corlys’s travels to adorn her headwear as well. I think hair nets like snoods and cauls would be popular on Driftmark since they resemble fishnets so she would wear them often as well. Also, since she’s under more scrutiny than others, she would make sure her hair is something that wouldn’t be easily disheveled. This is where her mother’s Stormland roots would come into play with tight braids and gable hoods.

Viserys’s strength is that he is a male heir with Targaryen features however I think he’s very clueless so he and Aemma would -play it safe and take their style inspiration from Jaehaerys and Alysanne. For Aemma, this would mean a similar color palettes, similar hairstyles, silver accents, and clothes designed form the same tailor. However, Aemma would put her own personal touch on that. For example, Aemma would wear Houppelande or Burgundian style gowns because a Vale fashion. I also imagine these would have lower necklines, and more lace details than Alysanne or Rhaenys as a way to appear more feminine. She would also wear soft colors and soft fabrics to appear more approachable to other members at court. Additionally, unlike Rhaenys, her jewelry would be sourced from across Westeros to give her a home land advantage. She would befriend ladies at the court by having favorite jewelers and tailors from each of their regions. After all, there is no better way to gain allies by showing you have personal interest in their homes.

For her hair, Aemma would almost always be wearing some sort of headpiece. A hennin and stickelchen for indoor occasions, designed by the same headdress designers as Alysanne, the Arryns, and the Hightowers. To support the Westeros economy of course. Also, if she’s feeling homesick, she has a hennin shaped like a crescent moon that represents the moon door in the Vale. She also has double or triple coned hennins to resemble dragon horns. If Viserys makes some sort of fauxpaus, she would wear a ridiculous headpiece so people would have something else to talk about. On other occasions, she would wear veils, hair nets, and metal headpieces similar to Old Valyrian styles. If her hair is ever visible, I think she would wear it either wear with ribbons, pins, or in bound braids like Alysanne.

Also building on her relationship with Viserys, she would wear things that would appeal to his interests. Since he is so interested in the histories, she wears a lot of Old Valyrian inspired clothing. Her sleeves are inspired by Valyrian architectures such as battlements. Her hennins sometimes resemble spires. Her bodice can resemble ceiling beams and neckline can resemble buttresses. If she’s wearing a dress with multiple colors, it would be inspired by stained glass. The stained glass could also resemble the Sept which appeals to followers of the Faith people as well. I imagine Viserys would’ve written her a poem or song about a long extinct flower from Valyria and how he would grow fields of them for her if he could. Which might showcase their relationship- he’s all about hypothetical gestures that appeal to his interests. But, it would work on her while she’s young so some of her dresses are the same color as that extinct flower.

[terrestrialnoob]

Time and Information

She was walked through the halls of Bel Rev Prison by four guards down an unfamiliar passage. She was soon joined by a younger woman with blonde pigtails who was happily chatting to her escort until she saw her fellow prisoner.

“Oh my gosh! A new face!” She cheered in a heavy Brooklyn accent, “Better be careful or it’ll get blown to bits!”

The two were taken into separate rooms and there was a sudden jolt of horror at the chair in the center of the room. It looked far too familiar, straps and gaps for easy access to specific parts of the body – the soft, weak parts. It was similar to something she’d once made when she was younger, dumber, and too scared of the unknown – no, too scared of being wrong about the unknown to see what was right in front of her. She struggled against the guards, but one punched her in the gut and she was forcefully strapped down into the chair. She was warned not to move before there was a sharp pain at the back of her neck. She sat frozen as something was forced under her skin, she could feel it anchoring into bone. After that, she was unstrapped and furiously asked what they’d done to her. “They’ll explain it soon enough.”

She was lead out of the surgical room and into a large concrete room, with 2 metal crates. She spotted the girl from earlier standing next to one of the crates. She looked up at her from pulling on a red and black diamond patterned leotard over fishnet leggings. The girl waved and shouted, “You made it!”

She waved back to the blonde then one of the guards lead her to the other crate and opened it. Her eyes stared to tear at the sight of her old aqua jumpsuit. There were also her goggles, utility belt, respirator mask, and a handful of non-compacted weapons.

She followed the implicit instruction to change into her jumpsuit, and it felt like putting on her real skin on again. It had been so long, she was starting to see silver in her auburn hair that had grown so long her braid went all the way down to her back. But the suit fit, just like it always did.

“Awooga!” The girl cheered and shouted, “I’m not usually a MILF kinda gal, but you look tight.”

She almost laughed at getting catcalled by the other woman and even flexed her arm to show off her prison muscle. The two were soon lead to a new room and she saw three other non-guards in the room, all in their own colorful costume. A large man had on a bear-skin cloak over body armor while another seemed to be dressed up like an airline pilot. A humanoid tiger creature was also there, they were already wearing a sleeveless Chinese-style martial arts uniform.

“Boomer!” The girl shouted and waved at the airline pilot and he smiled and greeted her in turn.

“It’s good to see you Harley,” He said with an Australian accent, “who’s your friend?”

Before she could answer, a door slammed open. A woman entered; thick and sturdy who held herself like a pillar of The Acropolis, like if she fell, the whole of civilization would fall with her. At her side was a man dressed up in his own custom red, silver, and black body armor.

The woman stopped and glared at the prisoners like they were less than human and took time to memorize all their inhumanity before she spoke, “Ladies, gentlemen. For those who don’t know, I am Amanda Waller, head of Task Force X, an off the books strike team of convicts used as expendable agents working for the U.S. Government. You are now members of Task Force X. Succeed in your mission, and you’ll get time off your sentences. Any questions?”

“A few, ma’am,” She rose her hand.

Waller raised her eyebrow and nodded, but before she could ask, the man in the bear skin shouted, “The Bear fight for Mother Russia, not U.S. Pigs!” His accent was thick and he stomped his heavy boots up to Waller, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate. “I will not work for you.”

Waller glared up at him and waved at the door behind her, “Be warned, there’s a small explosive in your neck, and if you do any little thing I don’t like, your head will be blown clean off. Take one step out that door, and you’re dead.”

The Russian growled at her, then pushed past her. He took one confident step through the door - the explosion was bright but quiet, and eviscerated the man’s head in seconds.

Waller turned back to the others, “Did that answer any of your questions?”

“A few yes,” She smiled and gently rubbed her neck where the small lump was indicating which of her questions had been answered. Then she continued, much to the horror of the Australian. “Are the terms of this – arrangement negotiable?”

Waller answered before she even finished, “You can’t refuse.”

She nodded her head, “I assumed as much. But, there’s something I want more than time off my sentence.”

“Oh?” Waller gave her a scrutinizing look, the kind that a woman who’s always looking for a better deal has.

“It’s about my son. Last I saw him, he was being experimented on in a government lab. The thing I want is unredacted copies of the files. I want to know Every. Single. Thing. any research lab anywhere has ever done to my son. And his current location.” Her voice shifted from relatively polite to absolutely deadly; almost like she now blamed everything the government has ever done wrong on Waller as a representative. The man next to Waller seemed to flinch, but the two women didn’t break eye contact.

“Might be difficult, given that most of the facilities that would have that information were destroyed. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” Waller stared her down, or at least tried to. There was silence, and for a moment several people in the room expected a head to explode. But then Waller said, “Do the mission, and I’ll see what I can get from the guys in white.”

The woman who stood up to The Acropolis smiled dangerously as she said, “I’m sure a woman of your standing and reach can get her hands into any government office.”

Waller smiled back, “You flatter me, Ms. Fenton.”

“Doctor Fenton,” She corrected, “One doesn’t lose their education simply because they’re imprisoned.”

[highinmiamiii]

NO FEELINGS - ch. 02

🇬🇧 a prelude 🇬🇧

A/N: heeey yall, it’s been a second i’ve been feeling some of that good ol’ block lately. i wanted to make this second chapter a lot more detailed and maybe get a little nasty with it already but i fear my brain just wouldn’t allow me…so i hope you enjoy this flashback/prelude chapter with that tattoo scene in a little more detail that i had sitting in my drafts for what it is. leave a comment if you wanna be apart of my permanent taglist and any feedback or suggestions are welcome. thank you all so much for following and reading i love you so much! enjoy this while i sort out this blockage and come back stronger, better and hornier 😈 also i hope the switching back and forth isn’t confusing i attempted to differentiate for ya’ll

Her POV: back of steakhouse (present)

She leaned against the grimy counter, staring at the faded ink on her arm as her mind drifted. It hadn’t taken much—just one look at him sitting out there. The way his jaw clenched, cigarette hanging from his lips, the same damn way it used to back in London. She hadn’t expected to ever have to see him again, and now, as the memories came flooding back, it felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

London in the 90s. A wild, rebellious time. The city had swallowed her whole, but she’d been too busy chasing the dream to care. The music. The crowds. The life. And then there was him—Billy. She wasn’t sure what she saw in him at first. Maybe it was the same reckless abandon she had, or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t give a damn about anything, including her.

Butcher’s POV (Present)

He lit another cigarette, taking a long drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke curled up toward the dim lights. Christ, she’d aged, just like him, but the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed much. Still that spark, that defiance. But behind it, he saw something else. Pain. Maybe even a little bitterness. The last thing he had in mind when coming here was to dredge up all these old memories. If he’d known *she*, of all people would be the one serving him piss poor American whiskey in a tiny little white sheer tank top, he wouldn’t have dared to show up here…or would he?

But London… yeah, he remembered. He could still see her, standing there in that grimy club, screaming lyrics at the top of her lungs. The way her fishnets dug into the meat of her thighs, her big messy carefree hair to match her attitude. That night had been pure chaos—loud, electric, full of bad decisions. She’d been wearing some old Nirvana shirt, looking every bit the rebel without a cause. That’s what caught his eye. A Yank, lost in a sea of Brits, and still holding her own.

Her POV: Camden, London (Flashback)

The club was packed, bodies pressed together in the heat of the moment. The shitty Sex Pistols cover band’s rendition blared through the speakers, the crowd was a frenzy, and she loved every second of it. She’d never felt more alive, more free. And then, through the haze of booze and music, there he was. A cocky grin, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, eyes dark and sharp. He looked like trouble, and that’s exactly what she was after.

They’d met by accident—literally, she’d spilled her drink on him. He’d smirked, tossed a sarcastic remark, and she fired one right back. That was how it started. The banter, the late-night pub crawls, the music they bonded over. Sonic Youth. The Clash. Pearl Jam. They’d spent hours talking about bands, trading tapes, dissecting lyrics. He was tough, but he got it. He understood the frustration, the rebellion that was running through her veins. And she loved him for it.

Butcher’s POV: (Flashback)

She’d been a live wire from the moment they met. Mouthy, sharp, full of opinions. But bloody hell, she knew her music, and she didn’t take shit from anyone, of course it didn’t hurt that she was the sexiest damn woman he’d ever seen in his life. They’d spent that whole night drinking and talking, getting lost in the chaos of London’s underground punk scene. She wasn’t English, not by a long shot, but there was something about her—something that felt familiar.

Maybe that’s why he stuck around. Maybe that’s why they became inseparable after that night. Camden was their playground, the pubs their refuge. They were both running from something—her, from a life that didn’t suit her, him from his demons, the ones that always seemed to creep in when the booze ran dry.

Her POV: Streets of London (Flashback)

They’d wander the streets of London at 3 a.m., talking about everything and nothing. She’d ramble about her dreams, how she’d saved up for years to get to London, only to find out that the dream wasn’t as glamorous as it seemed. He’d listen, nod, offer some witty remark, and she’d laugh, feeling lighter for a moment.

Then there was that night—the tattoo. They’d been drunk, of course, stumbling out of a pub when he saw the tattoo parlor.

“Go on, love, get somethin’ that sticks. Like us,” he’d slurred, smirking like the devil himself.

She rolled her eyes, but she was too far gone to resist. “You’re full of shit, Butcher.”

“Am I, now? Bollocks to it. Get the ink, love.”

And so she did. Never Mind the Bollocks. The same words that were now permanently etched on her skin, a reminder of those wild nights, of him.

Butcher’s POV: Tattoo Parlor, London (Flashback)

He couldn’t forget that night. Hell, he couldn’t forget any of it. She’d been so fiery, so full of life. He’d loved that about her, even if he didn’t say it. They’d been reckless, sure, but wasn’t that the whole point? To live fast, to not give a fuck?

But then Lenny died. And the whole world went to shit.

He’d shut down, shut her out. There were no more late-night pub crawls, no more snarky conversations over cheap pints, no more music. Everything that once felt like an escape, even her, turned into a reminder of what he’d lost. And what was worse, he couldn’t pull her into the darkness that now consumed him. She was too bright, too full of life—life that he no longer wanted a part of.

He’d ghosted her, plain and simple. He’d watched her from a distance, knowing she’d be heartbroken, but he couldn’t give her any more of himself. There wasn’t anything left to give. And London, once the vibrant backdrop to their wild love, became a suffocating city, drowning him in grief.

Her POV: Pub in London (Flashback)

She sat alone at their favorite pub. The one they used to haunt after every show, after every wild adventure through London’s underground. She kept checking her phone, waiting for a message that never came. The hours passed, the pint in front of her went warm, and still—nothing.

He was gone.

She didn’t want to believe it at first. But night after night, the calls went unanswered, and slowly, it started to sink in. He wasn’t coming back. Not for her, not for the life they’d carved out together. London, once her grand adventure, started to feel like a prison without him. The streets that used to be filled with music and laughter now echoed with silence. And every time she looked down at her arm, at the ink that now felt like a cruel joke, her heart twisted in pain.

Butcher’s POV: Steakhouse Booth (Present)

He snuffed out the cigarette, a bitter taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with the smoke. Sitting here now, seeing her again after all these years, the memories were crawling back. The nights they spent in each other’s arms, the reckless abandon, the laughter… and then, the way he left her. Cold. Brutal.

He had his reasons, sure, but none of them would make a difference now. She hated him, that much was clear. And maybe she had every right to. He’d left her to fend for herself, knowing she’d have no way of surviving in London without him. But at the time, it felt like the only way to save her from the wreckage of his life.

Her POV: Backroom of the Steakhouse (Present)

She could hear the chatter of customers, the clatter of plates in the kitchen, but it all faded into the background. All she could think about was the way her life had fallen apart after he left. She’d had to scrape by, working whatever jobs she could get, barely keeping her head above water before finally fleeing back to the States.

And now, here he was. As if none of it had happened. As if he hadn’t left her stranded in a foreign country with nothing but a damn tattoo and a broken heart. She could feel her pulse quicken, her chest tightening with anger, with hurt. She wanted to storm out there, demand an explanation, shout at him for all the years she lost trying to pick up the pieces.

But instead, she stayed put. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d wrecked her. Not after all this time.

Butcher’s POV: Steakhouse Booth (Present)

He knew she was out back, probably stewing in her thoughts, just like he was. A part of him wanted to go to her, to explain, maybe even apologize for how things ended. But the other part—the part that still felt the weight of Lenny’s death, of everything he’d lost—kept him glued to the booth.

What was the point in dredging it all up? She’d moved on. She had to have. Just like he had. But then again, why did it feel like seeing her was pulling him back into that old life, back into those nights where it was just them against the world?

He reached for his glass, took another slow sip, eyes fixed on the dim light of the restaurant. Whatever they had back then, it was long gone. But seeing her now, it felt like a piece of him still lived in those London nights, still ached for the chaos and the connection they shared.

Her POV: Backroom of the Steakhouse (Present)

She pushed away from the counter, straightened her apron, and steeled herself. He could sit there and sulk all he wanted, but she wasn’t about to fall back into the past. Not with him. Not after everything. The memories still hurt, sure. But she wasn’t that same girl anymore, and she’d be damned if she let him drag her back to that place.

As she headed back out into the dining area, she caught sight of him again, sitting there like a ghost from her past. It was strange, how someone could look so different and yet so much the same. His face was more lined, his hair grayer, but that smirk, that swagger—it was all still there.

She had half a mind to walk right past him, pretend like he didn’t exist. But something inside her—maybe the part that still hurt, still remembered what they had—wouldn’t let her.

Butcher’s POV: Steakhouse Booth (Present)

And there she was, moving through the restaurant, that same defiance in her step. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret—just a small one, mind—but it was enough to remind him that they hadn’t been all bad together. They’d been wild, reckless, and young, but they’d had something real in the middle of all the madness.

As she came closer, his gaze locked onto hers. It was a silent challenge, like it always was between them. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him first, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to back down, either.

But the years between them? The ones filled with silence, with her hurt and his guilt—they hung in the air like smoke from a freshly lit cigarette.

And in that moment, Butcher couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, some things weren’t meant to be left in the past.

————————————————————————

current tags: @butchersdarkbird @scrmqwn