#You only get this kind of quality from a blouse

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

Dick game so strong if you touch me you'll understand what happiness is. Look, a new day has begun.

[blindmagdalena]

Guilty Pleasures

18+ 3.3k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 1/4. AO3 link. | Chapter Directory

Homelander is on top of the world. He can say or do whatever the fuck he wants, and the sycophants around him will bend over backwards to make his word law, with few notable exceptions.

He never expected you to be one of them. When you put him in his place after a workplace incident, he becomes fixated on the promise of a firm hand alongside a soft body.

It’s Thursday, which means Homelander is currently bored to tears less than ten minutes into Vought’s weekly digital marketing meeting. These monotonous discussions of percentages and trending graphics gradually begin to feel like a drill pushing slowly into each of his ears, but they’re a necessary evil if he wants to have input when it comes to his image.

He taps his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his chair. The tapping pauses, however, at the appearance of a new presenter.

You.

You’re a far cry from the dime a dozen jackass in a suit that had been presenting before you. He’s sure he hasn’t seen you before, which means you’re new. His gaze drifts from your round face to the sensible cut of your blouse, the garment buttoned nearly to your throat. Anything less would be considered lewd given the size of your breasts. He wets his lips absently, adjusting himself to sit a little straighter.

He’s completely lost track of what you’re talking about in favor of watching the way your hips sway each time you walk from one end of the board to the other, tactfully engaging each observer. You have a resonant voice, commanding attention without sounding harsh. With a rack like that, you must have to fight to have a word you say heard by anyone with even a passing interest in a good pair of tits.

Not that the cheap fabric of your bra is doing them any favors. Silk would be better. He’s always liked the shine of it. Softer, too. It wouldn’t scrape against your shirt the way he can hear that cotton blend you’re wearing is doing. 

Curious, he focuses his vision to peer through your blouse. Your undergarments are plain and sensible. Boring. Still, it elicits a distinct pang between his legs. His mouth waters slightly. Even from where he is, he can smell you, fresh and clean, slightly sweet smelling–like vanilla. Your clothes may be pedestrian but at least your perfume is nice.

Letting his gaze slide lower, he admires how the curves of your body flow into one another. He can tell just by looking at you how soft you would feel against him, under him. How good you would feel to grip and hold in place, sink into and lose himself in. Your voice has a soothing quality to it that lets him easily imagine you’re breathlessly singing his praises instead of rattling off bullet points in a presentation.

Fuck, he’s getting hard, his cock throbbing lightly against the cup of his suit. It’s the only thing that allows him to fantasize as freely as he does. The best part of it is that he’s fairly certain he can sense something warm and wet throbbing between your thick thighs.

He suspects he’s not the only one fantasizing.

The room is quiet for a second too long, and Homelander abruptly tunes back in to realize you’re staring directly at him, expectancy in your gaze. He pulls a blank, realizing he hasn’t processed anything you’ve said. “Say again?”

There’s a flicker of irritation in your eyes before you tightly school your expression back into polite professionalism. His lips slowly split into a devious smile that he consciously fine-tunes to be more neutral. How close you came to some sort of heated response was kind of… cute. It makes him want to give your proverbial pigtails another tug just to see what else he can evoke.

The thought of pulling your hair is good. The thought of you pulling his hair is better, though.

“I asked if you have any feedback for our campaign leading up to the premiere,” you say, though Homelander finds himself more interested in the flash of your tongue he gets as you run it along your teeth afterwards. Your temperature is up a notch, too. You must not be used to such direct attention from someone like him.

“Nope,” he says glibly, turning on one of his patented knock-out smiles. “Looks good to me.” At that, he pointedly looks you up and down, meeting your gaze with a quick wink. 

Judging by the slight tic at the corner of your mouth, you aren’t charmed by his response. Still, he waits in preemptive satisfaction for you to appease him by returning his smile.

You don’t.

Instead, you say nothing more than a terse “Wonderful,” the singular word barely passing for civil, let alone professional. You move on, and Homelander finds himself taken aback. You don’t meet his eye for the remainder of the presentation, and while that gives him plenty of opportunity to ogle you, it bothers him.

Towards the end of your time, he clears his throat. Everyone looks at him.

Everyone but you.

“Thanks so much for your time,” you say to the committee, smiling, finishing your piece with a small incline of your head. You go sit, and there’s a slightly awkward pause before the next presenter takes center stage.

Homelander sits in stunned silence. The idea that you, some fresh faced nobody, think you’re in any position to blow him off is laughable at best. Who cares if he didn’t pay attention to your little presentation? That’s not his job. You’re lucky he’s even here, lucky that someone like him would think to give you time out of his day.

By the time the meeting concludes, you haven’t spared him so much as a glance. Indignation builds hotly in his chest. He’s had more than enough of being snubbed lately. He’s not going to tolerate it from the likes of you.

You should be on your hands and knees begging for his attention.

He watches a handful of your peers congratulate you on your first presentation, though plenty of others cast him wary glances and decide not to approach you. They know better. They know who’s really in charge around here. Naturally, they all skitter away like roaches when he strides towards you.

“Not bad for your first presentation,” he tells you, his smile toned down into a thin, lopsided smirk.

You look around yourself, no doubt taking note of how the other little insects around you have scattered. Maybe now you’ll realize your mistake.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, your body angled slightly away from him, as if you’re ready to bolt at any second.

“Got a lot on my mind, though, so I don’t think I absorbed as much as I could have,” he says, laying on that boyish charm a little thicker than usual. “Would really appreciate it if you could stick around and run that by me one more time.”

Your gaze flickers away from him–he wishes you would stop doing that–to the others who’re filtering out of the room, slowly leaving the two of you behind. “As I said during the presentation, all the documents will be available online,” you say, finally looking back at him. You actually have the audacity to look annoyed that he’s talking to you.

“I don’t have a computer,” he replies, his own voice beginning to flatten.

“I’m sure someone in IT can help you with that,” you say, undeterred by his attempts to corner you. 

His smile tightens minutely. “Do you have some kind of problem with me?”

Your heart jumps. He finds satisfaction in that, at least.

“No, sir,” you say sharply, a barely discernible hitch in your voice. “What I have are deadlines. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to meet them.” With that, you manage to squeeze by him. Despite the steady confident tap of your shoes against the floor, your heart races rabbit-like in his ears.

He contemplates you as you go, momentarily stupefied by your flagrant disregard for him. You weren’t entirely unaffected by his presence, though. If you’d had less of an avenue for escape, would you have been so flippant? He continues to focus on the beat of your heart as your steps carry you further from him. It doesn’t slow. You’re still full of adrenaline, the scent of it lingering alongside your perfume. He inhales a slow, deep breath, the leather of his gloves creaking as he curls and uncurls his fist.

Homelander finds himself wondering what your agenda is, what makes you so desperate to break from the norm and catch his attention. It’s clear to him that’s what you want. Why else would you be so stubborn where anyone else would yield? He scoffs to himself. 

God, it’s so obvious in hindsight.

He has no doubt that your brazen attitude would shatter if he pressed in closer, if you felt the heat of his breath on your lips. He could part your soft thighs and paint the face of God on the ceiling above you with his tongue inside you. You couldn’t dismiss him so easily then, could you?

You’re so determined to be noticed that it’s almost pathetic. He shouldn’t reward this kind of behavior, and yet he feels strangely inclined to commend it. What you’ve done is brave in a way. Insolence and sycophants he can’t abide, but a touch of bravery? Well… That can be rewarded.

Your heart thunders in your ears as you make a beeline for your office. You can feel a terrible burn crawling up your chest and into your cheeks, the reality of what just happened finally allowed to sink in. You had spent all morning preparing yourself for presenting your work in front of not only your new peers at Vought, but in front of the world’s most prolific superhero. You were solid, you were ready.

Until you felt the gravity of his gaze on you. The weight of it made you stutter where you shouldn’t have, lose your train of thought mid-sentence. Every time you dared to look at him, he was looking at you like he was going to swallow you whole. Never have you felt more acutely aware of yourself than you did beneath his stare, feeling the way he was picking you apart as keenly as you would feel his hands undressing you.

It left you as furious as you are flustered.

That arrogant bastard!

You close the door behind you with a rough breath, closing your eyes. You can’t even sit, you have to pace your office instead, shaking your hands out as you walk. You know you weren’t imagining it. He confirmed as much for you when it took a solid eight seconds of silence for him to tear his gaze up from your chest, smiling as wickedly as any devil and caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar.

You couldn’t look him in the eye after that. It was humiliating to be reduced so thoroughly and obviously in front of your peers. Worst of all, he seemed damn pleased by it. 

Though that isn’t the only reason your heart is still racing. You’re not quite ready to address that yet. You’re fairly certain if you’d been forced to speak to him any more than you had, you would have said something that would cause you to lose your job. You just need space to breathe, to collect yourself, to–

There’s a brisk knock at your door. Great. What now?

“Just a m–” You’re stopped dead in your tracks by a familiar flash of red, white and blue as Homelander lets himself into your office, closing the door securely behind him. 

“Howdy,” he greets. He looks cartoonishly wide and brightly colored against the neutral colors of your office, even more larger than life than he’d seemed in the conference room. He has a smile that looks like it belongs in the mouth of a shark about to take a bite of you. It sets you off kilter completely–not that you’d been much on it to begin with.

You gawk a moment before managing to close your mouth. “Homelander,” you say, your voice curt in your own ears. You have no idea how to address him, still frazzled from not only the presentation, but your interaction that followed it. You should ask him what he needs. 

“What’re you doing here?” That came out ruder than you meant it to. Not that he doesn’t deserve it. Still, you’re trying to keep this job.

“Are you always this pleasant?” He asks, cocking his head slightly as he comes to a stop in front of you, his arms held behind his back beneath his swaying cape. “Or did I catch you on a bad day?”

Is he serious?

“Your conduct today was inappropriate,” you say flatly, settling your hands on your hips.

Homelander scoffs lightly. “Oh, relax. You gonna ‘#Metoo’ me over a wink? Christ, you’re done up tighter than that blouse of yours,” he says, his gaze dipping. A chill rolls up your spine as you watch his tongue roll along his teeth. He’s like an animal anticipating a meal.

Your jaw drops, cold shock settling in your gut alongside that blistering heat. Of all the things you had prepared yourself for before coming to Vought, Homelander being a misogynistic sex-pest hadn’t been on your list.

Well. Not the sex-pest part, anyways.

You point to your office door. “Get out.”

He blinks, zero comprehension in those deceptively charming baby blues. His smile turns incredulous. “I’m starting to think you don’t understand what’s happening here,” he says, his tone taking on a precarious edge. He lets out a breathy, mirthless laugh. “You know, most people in your position would be begging for my attention.”

There it is.

You suck a noise through your teeth, nodding slowly. "Oh, I understand exactly what’s happening here,” you say, shifting your weight like you’re winding up for a pitch. “I know you think you're special because you're famous, or a supe, or both. I know you think I should be grateful that you’d even look at someone like me, but you’re not special, and I’m not grateful. The reality of the matter is I can get dick whenever I want it–good dick–and I can get it without being humiliated at my job.”

The silence in the room is deafening. Homelander looks stupefied, but you decide that you’re not done.

“You're not blessing me by making entitled passes and crude remarks while I'm trying to work. You’re being a nuisance,” you say, your heart beating in your throat. “So please, would you kindly leave?” You ask, voice firm despite the friendlier nature of your phrasing.

Finally, Homelander is the one left gawking. He looks like a fish with the way his mouth keeps opening and closing, but it’s the dismissive, aborted little scoffs he makes in between that really sell his wounded bewilderment. You can see tension lurking just beneath the surface, an anger that skulks in the creak of his leather gloves.

Fear begins to creep up the back of your throat, burning like bile, but you hold steady as he seems to be deciding what he’s going to do with you. The longer the quiet stretches on, your focus entirely on the subtle spasms in his expression, the more sweat begins to prickle at the back of your neck. You refuse to fill the space, you refuse to back down.

For all his power, he’s still just a man.

Eventually, he swallows. “Okie-dokie,” he says, his tone unlike anything you expected. He sounds confused–a little dazed, even. He walks to the door, and after one hesitant look back at you, he leaves.

The door closes with a soft click that still makes you flinch, the sound of it loud in the silence of the room. You blink several times, the abruptness of his departure making the whole encounter feel like some sort of fever dream. 

What the fuck just happened?

You’re not special.

The impact of those words struck Homelander’s ears like a loud, painful ringing that follows him as he walks out of your office. He feels off balance, each step leaning slightly to the right.

It’s a ludicrous statement. Objectively wrong. Who in the fucking world could be more special than him? He’s a literal god, and you’re no one. A faceless, nameless cog in Vought’s mechanism that hoists him to the top of it all. That’s your job. To elevate him. Worship him.

Instead you spoke to him as if he were nothing. He could have cut you down where you stood for that. He could have put your head through your office window, snapped your neck, held your skull and burned your eyes out of–

He shakes his head sharply, swaying. He all but stumbles into the bathroom, surprising one of the worker drones washing their hands. “Get out,” Homelander says gruffly.

“Uh, sir–”

“Get the fuck out!” He snaps, startling the man so badly he immediately rushes off, fumbling with the door on his way out. Homelander slams it shut and lets out a ragged breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, then his temples as he paces the bathroom. His reflection taunts him from his peripheral vision.

He hasn’t been able to look himself in the eye since he snapped his Doppelganger’s neck while he knelt before him.

That’s what he wants from you, isn’t it? Mindless desperate praise and worship. Why, then, does the thought od it make his stomach churn so violently he can taste the burn of bile? He tugs compulsively at his suit collar, the press of it against his skin uncharacteristically hot and itchy.

“I can get dick whenever I want it–good dick.”

He shamefully palms himself through his suit, confusingly hard amidst a swirling turbulence of contradicting thoughts and feelings. He could be good for you, too, if you’d fucking let him. He knows he could make you crumble, take apart that carefully constructed demeanor of professionalism and make you see him for what he is. He can prove himself to you. He will prove that you’re wrong about him, and then you’ll show him the love respect he deserves.

Hurriedly, he unzips his pants. His eyelashes flutter as he shoves his hand into them, roughly grabbing hold of his cock. He braces his forearm against the bathroom door and lets his head drop forward, watching his crimson glove pump the leaking head of his dick. His mind bounces between scenarios. He imagines himself in your place, fully on display for you to ogle. He imagines you’re watching him even now, staring him down with that unaffected look of indifference, of irritation, of disgust.

He bites back a whine, gritting his teeth. He wants so badly to imagine his face buried in your soft tits while he fucks the plush space between your thighs, but he knows you won’t let him. Not right away. You’d make him earn it, wouldn’t you? You’d make him watch you please yourself before he ever got so much as a taste.

The glassiness in his eyes begins to sizzle, the moisture burning away as crimson light flares up in them. Would you laugh if you could see him now, or would you scold him for touching himself without your permission?

Homelander comes hard, tipping his head back with a loud moan as he paints the bathroom door with ribbon after ribbon of come. He barely manages not to blow a hole through the ceiling, the light of his eyes flaring and softening in time with each euphoric wave of release. He pants through it, head falling forward and thunking lightly against the door, resting there while he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he exhales eventually, sighing. He wipes his hand on the wall and then carefully tucks himself back into his pants, his mind swirling hazily on the best high he’s had since…

Clearing his throat, he puts himself back together before leaving the bathroom. Clearly, the thing that he’s been missing is a challenge. 

Luckily for him, you’ve kindly volunteered yourself.

( chapter two )

[marzipanandminutiae]

You don’t like 1920s, 1940s AND 1950s fashion? Damn what did the mid-century do to you lol. K but seriously why not the 50s? The skirts had volume and were long-ish (at least in high fashion) and blouses were well structured and fitted and often had embroidery or embellishments.

Obviously I don't hate ALL of it; no era is a monolith. But there are a few things these eras have in common that I hate:

The rise of synthetic fabrics, AKA Using Plastic To Make Clothing. We're now at a place in terms of clothing where its actively harder and more expensive to wear natural fibers than to wear clothing made entirely of a substance that leaches into our water, holds odors, makes us sweat more, doesn't generally last as long or admit as much repair over time as most natural textiles, and just Kind of Sucks all around except for a few very specific purposes. Synthetics weren't invented in the 1920s, and natural fibers were common in all of these eras than they are today, but it was definitely increasing amounts of "BUY THESE NEW EXCITING PROGRESSIVE MODERN FABRICS!!!" throughout the early and mid-20th century. Which pisses me off in principle.

Less practical garments unless you lived a very specific lifestyle- namely, access to washing machines and a willingness to launder clothing after just one wear. Modern clothing is just not great unless you have access to very frequent washing (see above re: holding odors more than many natural fibers) and barrier garments to keep sweat away from them and stretch the time between washes aren't a thing anymore for most people. In the eras mentioned, everyone was getting so excited about machine laundry capabilities- and who wouldn't? washing machines ARE a huge boon! no denying that! -that they shifted away from modes of dress designed to minimize the necessity of laundering outer clothes. Except now, with concerns about the aforementioned microplastic leaching from washing machines draining into municipal sewers and less mendable clothing- washing is a huge strain on garments, and wears them out faster if you do it too often -we need to be getting back to the system of having fewer but higher quality garments and washing them less often. Except we can't. Because some idiot in the 1920s said "whoopee nobody will ever need linen combinations or chemises that actually serve a purpose anymore!" and the subsequent decades continued it.

The silhouettes generally do not spark joy for me. 1920s actively makes me fly into a rage and scream into pillows, with the exception of robes de style MAYBE. 1940s...well, let's say there was a reason the New Look was so popular, and that's "no more boxy utility wartime clothes." I will give 1940s the hair prize here, though, because I like it better than any other decade 1920s-50s. I actually DO like the New Look! ...but not its combination with the bullet bra; yikes. This is highly subjective.

Some of the textiles, patterns, colors, and common embellishments used are just not my thing. I don't go in for Bold And Graphic And Geometric anything, usually. With a very very small number of exceptions. Polka dots and florals are also not my thing (unless the florals are on a dark background). Plastic jewelry? Hard pass. ~Fun~ motifs like fruit (except pomegranates which have Goth Appeal), the poodles on a poodle skirt, household objects, transportation, etc? No thank you; reads too Kindergarten Teacher for me. Again, not universal or exclusive to those eras- witness the 1880s chicken-print dress I saw an illustration of once -but more prevalent, to my eyes.

Hair. 1920s bobs make most people's heads look blocks. I love a good bob, but those are not Good in my opinion. 1920s Up Hair is usually meant to mimic a bob. 1930s was only a little bit better. 1940s, as I've said, was skirting the line for me and marginally acceptable. 1950s took us right back to a solid Nope with either short poodle cuts or pageboys as the main options for adult women. An occasional chignon maybe, but nothing else that appeals to me personally. just not great all around.

All of these eras were holier-than-thou about the Victorians and their fashion, which I love, so I'm petty about it. Yes please tell me more about how your plastic bullet bras or potato sack dresses are inherently superior to Grandma's elegant and comfortable long wool skirts with the perfect center back pleating. Oh, the 1860s were the ugliest fashion period ever in your opinion? Fascinating. I am setting your car on fire.

I actually DO like the New Look...which is heavily inspired by mid-19th century fashion, so that's not really any big surprise. Still has the issues with synthetic materials and the end of practical undergarments, though. Also, why stop at mid-calf for everyday skirts? Instep Or Bust You Cowards.

[n-s4kayaky]

𝒮𝒾𝓇 𝒞𝓇𝑜𝒸𝑜𝒹𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈! (𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲+𝒮𝐹𝒲)

warnings: Mentions of female reader, not safe for under 18!

a/n: Aside from loving Buggy I love Crocodile, and Mihawk, in general the Cross Guild! So headcanons and stories of these characters are waiting for you, I hope you enjoy it!

Well, this is more than clear! This man will buy and give you all kinds of expensive and luxurious things, what's more, taking away from now will force you to throw away all your old clothes and replace them with the luxurious dresses, skirts and blouses he gives you. If you refuse to throw away your old clothes he won't hesitate to break them with his big hook, before you retort and scold him he'll shut you up by putting a pile of bags and boxes of new clothes in your face. He will enjoy giving you beautiful jewelry to wear on your beautiful body, she will give you lotions and oils with a delicious perfume so that every time she touches and tastes your soft skin smells the sweet aroma that she previously chose for you

Obviously he will give you lingerie equally, and something she won't tell you is that she has chosen a size a little smaller to be able to delight in her tired eyes, your beautiful body and curves being pressed by the luxurious lace, she loves to see how the bra makes your breasts slump due to the lack of space, how your hips are pressed by the beautiful thong that fits so well on you and how those delicious stockings squeeze your beautiful thighs

I think Crocodile is the type of couple who spends most of his time working of course, he doesn't want to get into business or that kind of thing so he prefers that you wait for him at home, once he arrives he will give you affection and love. Despite being a cold and somewhat serious man, he can show his affection towards the person he loves, obviously he will not be cloying by any means; But he reminds you every day how he loves and appreciates you, for him you are a beautiful and undoubtedly unique jewel.

Crocodile will treasure you, as I said you are his beautiful and unique jewel, he will not let anyone look at you and much less touch you, he will protect you and take care of you from anything that torments you and will kill you without any problem if necessary

It is clear that our great mafioso is possessive and jealous at a high point, if there is opportunity and you can accompany Cocrodile to one of his meetings he will have his good hand or hook around your hip at all times, he will even make you sit on his lap while he is having his meeting, he will keep his good hand resting on your thigh and caress this, He will squeeze it gently whenever someone irritates him. The same goes if you go to the casino with it, it will keep its big hook around your waist and keep you glued to it at all times

Apart from making it clear that you are his by keeping his hands on you, he will give you a high quality leather necklace, with several diamonds encrusted to it (If you are not a fan of diamonds and you have another favorite precious gem he will take it very much into account) from the middle of the necklace will hang a large "SC" of Sir Crocodile of solid gold to let everyone know that you are HIS property And no one can lay their filthy hands on your beautiful neck. I even think that she gave you to match the necklace a small gold bracelet with the same initials in small and as a small detail a small accessory in the same shape as her hook only dwarfed

I think that Crocodile, with the passage of time of having a relationship with you, will reach the point of asking you to marry him. He wants to have you as his little wife, to take care of you, to take care of you and to have you just for himself, just like he wants you to be your husband so that he is the only important man in your life and the only one who can love you as he does. On the day he declares he will take you to a luxurious restaurant and in the privacy of your VIP lounge he will come up to you, take out of his pocket a beautiful gold ring encrusted with jewels and drop the big question. Your wedding would be private, I don't think Crocodile will invite many people on his side, some important people from his social circle and will allow you to invite your family if that's what you like. It won't be a big celebration; But she'll certainly be luxurious, she wants to show you how much she cares about you and how much she loves you

I think that for him your thighs, breasts and butt serve as a de-stressor, as long as they get on his nerves and you are there he will take some part of the aforementioned and squeeze and massage it as if it were a de-stressing ball

Over time Crocodile will trust you enough to let you clean his big hook and even take it off when he is alone with you, he knows that you are not going to hurt him, in fact with you he feels a calm that he has never had before. Apart from letting you clean his hook he will allow you to gum and comb his hair in his characteristic hairstyle, although yes, he will not let you use a comb, he wants you to comb his hair back with your little fingers, he loves the feeling and will close his eyes totally relaxed while he lets out small grunts of satisfaction

He loves baths, especially if they're with you. You will have a great, but GREAT bathtub in which you let it fill to the top with crystal clear water, so it will be fine; But if you like to add some salts, oils, soaps or bath bombs to the water, it will certainly allow you to do so. That tub is so big that water will easily reach your neck, that's why it always grabs you by the waist and will sit you on its big lap. While you take a bath he won't stop kissing your sensitive neck, plus his hand will wander over your soft skin, baths usually end with a delicious fuck ;)

I think Crocodile has a slight insecurity with the scar on his face, he's not the kind of person who would cry because of such insecurity but he does often not feel like seeing his reflection in the mirror. That is why if you kiss and caress that scar will be supported by your affection, the insecurity will disappear and without a doubt his love for you will grow

OBVIOUSLY, if you ask your big man to lend you his huge, warm coat, he'll give it to you without any objection. It will definitely look huge on you, that's why Crocodile will let out a little laugh when he sees your small body with his big coat

We all know that Crocodile, as its name says and does it justice, has crocodiles, that's why if you ask him with puppy dog eyes to let you pet the big reptiles he will end up giving in. Obviously at first he won't leave you out of a slight fear that something will be done to you; But after many pouts and supplications it will allow you to be with the big animals but with their constant vigilance and caution. It ends up being that your pets behave like big dogs that seek your attention and caresses.

Well, the way I think Crocodile smells is that it definitely smells like a cigar, just like some Whiskey and of course a highly expensive cologne smell with a strong masculine aroma

I think this great man has a great fetish for getting you pregnant. The mere thought of filling you with her great burden and that she will get you pregnant, that you are going to be the carrier of her child, that your beautiful body begins to gain weight, that your belly becomes bigger and that your breasts become heavier and full of breast milk undoubtedly puts it to a hundred, That's why she loves being able to inside your warm inner

It's clear that Crocodile while he's in a meeting with you on his lap will start joking with you, his hand will squeeze your thighs and go up to your pussy, caress it over your luxurious underwear that he gave you until he gets completely soaked in your arousal, he will push the fabric aside and play with your delicate pussy, Sticking his big fingers in and out of you while smoking his cigar like it's nothing, even though mentally he's praying that this stupid meeting is over and he can fuck you properly, even though he wouldn't mind taking you right there in front of everyone. Obviously, while playing with your pussy, he will give you the command to stay quiet the moment you let out a louder than normal moan he will stop abruptly, leaving you with the desire and the needy pussy. Eventually, at the end of the meeting, he will continue with his work and fuck you properly

Part of sticking his fingers into your pussy while you're in a meeting will make you sneak down under the table in front of him and he'll pull out his big cock, silently giving you the command to suck it. While you're doing your work under the table, Crocodile will keep his serious side in front of everyone while smoking; But inside of him he's holding back so he doesn't grab your beautiful hair and fuck your tight throat. It's true that he'll sneakily grab your hair and force you to swallow more, but it won't be as brutal as when you're alone

I believe that even if you have a loving relationship, in private and in bed you have a Master/Submissive relationship. You will have your rules and punishments as well as games and so on

Speaking of punishments, the one that Crocodile would use the most with you would be spanking, he would not use any punishment shovel, his big hand is enough for him. He will keep you lying on his thighs with your butt up while he hits it with his wide hand, he will stop once he sees your beautiful ass completely red and with marks of his hands, he will be more than satisfied to see the beautiful work of art that is in front of him, you lying between his big thighs, with the butt up and completely red with the marks of his big hand, Even in the underwear that's wet and ruined by your dripping pussy

Wearing common underwear for yourself is over as you entered Crocodile's life, from now on you will wear high ranges of lingerie sets, which will be mostly black and green, some will have a buckle with Crocodile's initials, a small detail that he himself had made. You have many pairs of lingerie and you will be giving more every day, why? Simply, usually Crocodile rips them off and smashes with his hook in the urge to fuck you. He always repeats that he doesn't mind breaking it, he will always give you another pair

Crocodile is a marking man, he will bite your soft skin until it turns purple or red, he will slap your butt until your buttocks are with the mark of his hands embedded in it. He will bite your delicate thighs and suck them until they are full of marks and more than once he has fantasized about extinguishing his cigar on your delicate body as a personal brand, he will ask your permission at first, he appreciates you very much and does not want to scare you, if you give him your approval he will not take long and will press the burning tip of his cigar on some visible part of your body

Due to its LARGE size, Crocodile takes its beautiful time to stretch properly, being able to stand for several hours with its big fingers buried in your extruded pussy, opening up your rubbery walls while taking you more than a vaz to the top of the weather. After an hour of pure orgasms thanks to her skillful fingers, comes the main event

Crocodile is the type of person who would like to try BDMS with you, after all you have a Master/submissive relationship. It will make a contract and everything where you confirm your consent and where you put your risks and safe word. The moment he is doing something that makes you uncomfortable and you don't like it, if you say the safe word he will stop right away, ask if everything is okay and comfort you while repeating that he will not do it again and that he regrets having done something you do not like

Many times, when you go to meetings or even to the casino with him, he orders you not to wear any type of underwear. More than once you've gone with your beautiful and luxurious Crocodile dresses to the casino and meetings with nothing underneath, this makes it easier for Crocodile to play with your needy pussy

Crocodile is a deepthroated man, I mean, he loves being able to fit all his fat cock into your tight little throat, forcing you to take him for the good girl you are. He loves seeing your little face full of tears and drool as you choke on his big cock, it certainly makes it harder. It will carefully grab your hair and force you to go deeper while setting a rough and steady pace

Many times he will humiliate you and force you to rub your bare pussy against his big metal hook, he will make you rub your clit against the solid gold arch while watching with delight as you rub your wet pussy against the cold metal of his hook. After you've on this one he'll make you lick it with your beautiful tongue that he loves so much

He drops a BIG but BIG load, you can't imagine what he gets to throw away. It always fills your throat with its warm cum, forcing you to swallow it while you choke a little, just like it always fills your insides, you feel it hit your cervix directly, like knocking it down, until it cums inside you, filling your uterus with its thick seed. Eventually, when it comes out of you, it will stick its fingers in, forcing you to keep its load inside

I think that due to her breeding fetish Crocodile has acquired a special plug which she inserts into your pussy once it is filled with her cum, thus preventing a single drop of her precious cum from coming out of you

Lastly, this man lets out a lot of grunts of pleasure as he hits you like there's no tomorrow. He looks like a beast as he hits you and lets out such grunts, apart from growling he will whisper in your ear with his deep voice "Good girl"

[iznsfw]

Tutor eunbi where she rewards you increasingly everytime you get an answer correct starting from clothed groping and ending up with creampie

(inspired by a jav that uhhh... my friend saw definitely not me)

[KWON-0927] "P-please be gentle!" Busty School Tutor Whimpers Cutely As You Go Down On Her Curvy Figure After A Rough Revising And Has Her Sensitive Nipples Played With! Never Gonna Fail An Exam Again!

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi

First Part of Dulce Periculum | Next Part

IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

8,131 words

Categories | tutor!Eunbi, uniform sex, rough sex, nipple play, corruption, titjob, mating press, tit play, fingering, creampie, squirting

Start of Iz*Mas! This is my EIGHTEENTH Eunbi fic. Me writing too much Eunbi.

Anyway, enjoy this :)

There's the stab of overmorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as ereyesterday. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look down into the textbook and realize there is a one-way path with this situation and it does not look safe at all. Everything goes downhill from here. There's the—

Three quick knocks pound onto your wooden door like silver rain on a rooftop. You close the textbook with jerky surprise, but you do not need to look into the eyehole to know who it is. The visitor is obviously her. It's obviously Kwon Eunbi, the smartest girl in your school.

You have requested her to help you revise for your exams, and accordingly, she comes to your home every Sunday since the start of September to do so. How you got so lucky to have such a pretty girl visiting you regularly, you'd like to say you have no idea. But you can only point to your report cards and feedback sections scribbled with dark red negativity. If the scathing words from exhausted teachers written on the back aren't enough to send the message, you will be straightforward: you aren't the brightest student.

You are quite average in other subjects, which is probably one of the two redeemable qualities about you. But English is just a ridiculous setup for failure. You do not like having people know you need help with it either, which makes your situation a bit more difficult than it already is if not for Eunbi being the sweetest girl in the world. (Besides being the prettiest.)

The fear partially washes away, like leftover combed seashells on sand. The phobia of failing has gone by a small surge, but a new one takes its place: one of Eunbi.

It's not that she's an overly strict and brutal tutor; in fact, she's as kind as a girl can get, and too pretty to be frightening anyway. But you are afraid of what you might do that can seem out of place if you want her to like you. If you want her to want you as much as you do her. It's such a stupid schoolgirl crush you have on her, yet you find no escape. Nor can you find a girl that can match the beauty she has, or a distracting enough video game to keep your mind off her.

Your heart aches with anticipation as you open the door. It is no big surprise to see that Eunbi looks beautiful. The pair of round black-rimmed glasses sits on her nose neatly, matching the color of her curled long hair. In addition to that, she is still wearing the school blouse and skirt, making her look like the perfect cute nerd in movies. It's a very usual and everyday outfit, nothing too model-ish or fashionable. But it still dumbs you down to nothing but admiration. How it wraps around her busty form and shows off her thighs oftentimes make you lose the answer to her questions even though it's on the tip of your tongue.

"Hi, oppa!" Eunbi says kindly. She is just a little younger than you, but definitely only by years. In terms of knowledge, she is way out of your league—she's miss Valedictorian, the biggest bookworm, writer of the year, and a good volleyball player. You... well, there's not much to go over.

She gives you a big hug. Emphasis on the "big." Her breasts practically push into your body and almost nudge you out of her embrace. The girl is adorably oblivious to it, only beaming with giddiness at seeing you, and hugs you tighter. Your breath sounds heavier than her giggle.

But wrap your arms around her a little too confidently. Her smooth back and taut stomach feel good under your fingertips. How much more if you were holding—

No. You can't think like that about her! She's your tutor, a completely innocent girl who doesn't deserve to be lewded by your thoughts depsite her insane body. But no matter how many times you remind yourself about it, you keep forgetting. Kind of similar to your relationship with sentences and predicaments.

But it is a different kind of forgetfulness when it's with Eunbi. Unlike the panic that grips you when you forget an essential fact while answering your test, you are blissful to delve in its ignorance. For a limited time, the world allows you to believe that she might like you. That you might have a chance with her. It's a little thing that makes you happier and sadder in the same breath, but you wear a big smile.

"Hi, Eunbi. Thanks for coming by so early!"

It's a statement free of sarcasm. You are glad to have Eunbi come by, especially when you are about to have a breakdown over English. But even with that aside, she's a beauty, and beautiful things are more than allowed in your home.

You lead her to your living room. Several of your textbooks, reviewers and fillers are already out and open on the coffee table. There is science... mathematics... history... they all make your head hurt more than any car ride could.

"Yeah, Miss Bae dismissed us early so I came here five minutes before time," she says with a giggle. But then her face suddenly loses its brightness and surges into fear. "I didn't disturb you, did I? I'm really sorry if I did! You know I could wait till you're settled!"

Oh, that cute downcast look. She is so painfully cute that you want to hug her again, and not just for the feel of her body. "No, not at all!" you say, calming her down. "I needed to work on revising early anyway. Will you help me a little more today? Maybe some extra time, too?" you add hopefully.

"Of course, it's my job! And you pay me very... abundantly." Eunbi gives you a cleverly-timed wink. "So I don't mind at all. Shall we start?"

She hands you the worksheets she has prepared. They're not too lengthy, and have her watermark: a clean red doodle of a bunny and her name in Korean. Nothing out of the ordinary. These letters in the questions aren't in Korean, though. Wait, why are they...

Oh dear God, no. It's English. English, the goddamned language you are forced to learn since everybody in the world knows it and writes it because one day, some stupid people decided to build the tallest tower in the world and made God angry. Or so you were told. But why couldn't you be the exception and go on without knowing the languages?

It's important to note that you are an overall average student. Not good enough to make the honors' list, but not bad enough to be one of the rejects sitting at lunch in the corner either. You barely pass exams, but something is still better than nothing. So, on other subjects, you lend in time to study without putting in much effort. However, this one is your weakness. While you still have hopes to pass in other subjects, the chances slim when you are put in the English spotlight.

You can never wrap your head around it. For example, why do "though," "tough," and "thorough" all have different pronunciations but are spelled nearly the same? Why does the menaing of a word or sometimes a whole sentence change your approach?

It is too broad of a language for you. You'd rather stick to the Hangeul characters you know by heart and say something in your native language. But you know Eunbi won't let that happen.

She sits there with her hands folded, patiently waiting for you to go on answering. But she notices the crease in your forehead and immediately knows what is going on; you have hit a rut, and she has to help you out of it. "Do you want me to go over some flashcards first?"

"I didn't know we were going for English first, but yeah, sure," you say, a little reluctantly. To you, flashcards are just the same as worksheets: difficult and senseless. So you do not understand why she thinks this will help. But hey, you're the student, she is the tutor slash teacher slash cutie. You have to trust her to do her thing well.

"Okay!" says Eunbi cheerfully. She brushes back long strands of curls behind her ear with another hand as she picks up a deck of cards with the other. She remains optimistic and bright-eyed throughout the first minutes of the session, even if you are the opposite. "What is a verb, and what does it do?"

The honey-colored card that invades your line of vision is hard to scrutinize. It is a basic question, really. But not for you, for in that second, every bit of the little knowledge you have about a verb dissolves to nothingness. Verb... verb... what the fuck is a verb?

You are stuck with nothing but a slacked jaw and an empty mouth. Even a third grader can answer this, so why can't you?

You look back at Eunbi with troubled eyes while her brown ones remain cheerful. Never lose your spark, little one. "Uhhh, I think—fuck, can I get a clue?"

"Haaah, oppa-ya!"

The little one has lost her spark. Your ignorance extinguished its heat. Eunbi bumps your shoulder with the force of both mock and real frustration. "There aren't gonna be any clues in the exam, y'know?" she scolds you. "You can't just go up and ask the teacher for a hint!"

You feel a little bad now. Your mind's habitual way of letting important pieces of knowledge slip from its grasp makes Eunbi feel bad, too. Because of it, she begins to doubt her own teaching ability. Is she not patient enough? Did she not choose the questions properly? All those things run in that pretty head of hers now that you have immediately failed to answer.

But it truly isn't her fault. She spends nights printing out your worksheets and reviewing your subjects beforehand, always trying to add a sweet touch to them with a scribble of encouragement on the margins. And you... you are just mind-numbingly forgetful and lazy. None of it is her doing.

But you want to answer the flashcard question with a little bit of help. At least just a tiny bit of help.

"But it's just a tutoring session right now, isn't it?" you reason with her. Look through those brown eyes and attempt to find a hint of patience she can use for you. It is only barely less than the forgiving glimmer that is there on the usual. "Just one hint can do."

You are desperate for it. They are not always helpful, but they do give you time to reflect on what you have studied. On rare occasions, they tap into long-forgotten memories of your other sessions with Eunbi. Sometimes they are about studying, sometimes they're about the little talks you have with her that aren't study-related. There's the right keyword sometimes to put two and two together. Only sometimes, but right now, all you have around that can be of assistance is a hint.

Eunbi is not dumb. She sees through your reasoning and understands why it makes sense. So, being the kind girl she is, she relents. You have the heavens and her parents to credit for making her so forgiving.

"Fine," she says sullenly. She looks adorable; her full lips are pulled downwards in a pout, paired with her spectacles. She looks like the perfect nerdy girlfriend. Oh, if only... "But if you still give no answer or a wrong one after this, we're going to review again. Do we have a deal?"

"I promise we do, Eunbi. With all my heart."

"Good oppa!" says Eunbi cheerfully, back to her normal self. "Here's the hint: it's what you, um, do. In that sense of the word."

Realization hits you, only by a little jab. "Oh! I think that's—um..."

"You just said a verb! Come on, you can do this!"

Then it hits you with unsure slap, as if it were doubtful that it hit the right victim. "The, the action that the subject of the sentence does—?"

"Ding, ding, ding! Yes, you got it!"

Eunbi claps happily, hugging you again. You are blissful, too. Maybe there is a chance of you succeeding after all. Maybe the path isn't so foggy.

"Do I get a prize for getting the correct answer?" you ask with much anticipation. Eunbi always has little treats for you to go by. After a particularly difficult mathematics session, she went with you to the café for a milkshake. Sometimes you would go out for a quick snack. But honestly, you'd take anything, just as long as she stays by your side.

But the Eunbi by your side currently does not look so sure of herself. You can identify well the look on her face because you wear it all the time: an expression of curiosity. You wonder what had gone on behind the scenes for her to look so insecure.

Her index fingers meet and part repeatedly as she gazes at you. Her eyes tell a story you cannot piece apart, but you can get the mood of it: a strange wistfulness left unattended to.

"It's all up to you, actually," she says, quietly, "and I just want to know what it feels like when it's from you. Just that."

"What do you mean, Eunbi?" you ask, with more confusion than ever.

"F-for your prize, you can touch my, um, chest."

"Huh? What happened, is your heart beating weird?"

"No, oppa, I want you to touch my breasts, pleaseee!"

She spurts out the statement with frustration and embarrassment. Eunbi's cheeks have grown bright red, and they only tone up when your hands start to fidget. You may have a hesitant mind of your own, but your hands have known what they wanted to do since the day Eunbi dropped that pencil and accidentally flashed you more than an eyeful. Ever since your eyes took in the beautiful yet limited sight of her breasts, you realized that there is more to Eunbi than a cute girl. And all the time, you thought that she didn't know of her own danger. You ignorantly thought that she is simply too young and innocent to find it out for herself, but she must have seen your provoked expression that day.

"Eunbi...?"

"Look." Eunbi pouts at you and unbuttons the first few buttons of her blouse. The two hills—no, mountains—of flowing cleavage rises into your view. "Does oppa want his prize or not?"

"Of, of course I do."

Tentatively wrap your deft fingers around Eunbi's tit. It feels even better than you imagined. Even with the partial cloth blocking you from its full glorious nakedness, its softness remains. You can feel her nipple harden under your thumb as you continue to squeeze her.

It is a new feeling to Eunbi, having a foreign hand touch where she is second most sensitive. Especially since she has not done any of this sex thing besides touching herself. And even the orgasms that had her whimpering and rocking against her pillow with desperation cannot compare to your fingers groping her.

"Mmm, oppa, that feels good." Her eyes close with all the pleasure you give to the softness of her heavy breasts. "So good... getting touched by you like this."

"Fuck, Eunbi"—your body inches closer to her busty figure, eager to press against its form—"I want to—"

"No, s-stop, we aren't done with reviewing yet!" Her weak voice sounds as if she is trying to convince herself rather than tell you off. With a reluctant look on her pretty face, she positions herself on the sofa normally, trying to proceed. "Don't be so greedy, oppa-ya."

"Seems like you're greedier than me, Eunbi. You were whining like a puppy," you counter her insult. While you understand that she still needs to go on with her job as a tutor, she does not need to pretend that her heart is burning with desire, too. Literally.

Eunbi crosses one thick thigh over the other and shakes her head with clear denial. "No, I'm not! I just... wanted to know what it feels like," she now confesses with a sullen look. "And, and I know you wanted to touch me for the longest time."

Longest time? Does she mean that she figured you out that day, too? Kwon Eunbi is not as oblivious as you originally deduced. She may be sweet and cute, yet she is undeniably intelligent. You might have not said anything verbally about it at the time, but it turns out that she read you like a book.

Eunbi hides her face behind your English textbook like a shy bunny, leaving only her eyes for you to see. "I thought that it would be nice if I let you, because you're really cute, oppa! And it can be motivation, right?"

"Smart girl, Eunbi-ya," you praise her. Her cheeks glow red. She hides her face behind the book even more.

But your cheeks are beet red, too. Did Kwon Eunbi—the Kwon Eunbi, straight-A student and the campus crush—just call you cute? How long has she thought that about you?

The tables have been turned and your back was, too. You were the unmindful one all along.

You are struck by how dumb you are. It's not like it isn't already a usual factor in your life, but you don't miss things like this. You can tell how someone feels right off the bat with just a look. You pride yourself with your certainty of the state of everything. But even when it's already outside of academic fields, she's bested you. Again.

Just how smart is Eunbi? You have never underestimated her intelligence. It is hard to when she is always on top of the honors' list and the first to announce that she's finished with the exams. But now you realize she notices little things, too, just like you.

A silence passes over the living room for a few seconds, but Eunbi proceeds to the next question anyway. The two of you are blushing too hard and are just eager to move on.

"Second question," says Eunbi, shoving a card in your face, "it is defined by Oxford Languages as 'a word or phrase naming an attribute, added to or grammatically related to a noun to modify or describe it.'"

You appreciate the sources from which she gathered the fancy definition, but the elaborate meaning just makes your head hurt. Why stretch a simple definition out to such flowery words? One particular keyword rings a bell, though.

"An adjective," you answer confidently.

"Yes! Give three examples."

"'Pretty,' 'small,' and 'smart.'"

Eunbi blushes then nods approvingly. She knows all those adjectives were about her since you keep giving her pointed glances as you list them. She flips the flashcard to show that you got the right answer.

"You're getting better at this!" she says happily. "Your next prize is you can touch my legs."

Eunbi does not wait for you to accept her prize. She swings both of her legs over your lap, pressing them firmly to your thighs. Just when you thought Eunbi could not get more dangerous, she has showed you up again. The skirt barely hides the roundness of her thick thighs, nor does it hide the shorts that hug them so tightly.

You do not hesitate this time. If Eunbi wants this, then you should give in. Your hand graces the toned muscles on her thighs, formed by her days as a varsity volleyball player, and runs down the rest of her smooth legs. They feel almost as good as her tits, although the only thing that can outdo them is her face. That pretty, pretty face that reacts almost instantly with parted lips and closed eyes. You watch her responses to your caresses with a few pants of your own; seeing her orgasmic reactions is a thing straight out of a JAV porn.

Her center moves against your thigh demandingly. You take that as a signal. Slip your hands underneath her skirt and feel for—

"Hah, no, no, no!" Eunbi's gasps sound like they're wrung out of breathless lungs. "We still have more questions... and the worksheets—mmmm!"

Part of being a good tutor is to have the high ground, but not make it seem like it. But Eunbi is slowly losing the upper hand, all because of your fingers brushing over the center of her underskirt shorts and feeling for the insides of her thighs. She tries to be a good tutor. She tries with all the strength she has in her little body, but they cannot fight against your lingering touch. Nor can they resist the prods of your fingertips at what you think is her clitoris. You might be right; a sharper whine is heard from her.

"Noooo, why does it have to feel so good?" Eunbi whispers. She tugs at your shirt, burying her head in the nook of your shoulder. "Please, oppa, you have to answer some questions still..."

"Oh, fine," you reply with a kiss on her hair. "What's the next question, Eunbi?"

Her free hand shuffles the flashcards. "A word that represents persons, concepts, things, and places. Answer this right and you'll get a bigger prize."

Suddenly, you become the best student there ever was in English. You remember almost everything you and Eunbi have gone over during your sessions. It turns out that all you needed is the promise of Eunbi's body. The promise of the freedom to do everything good to that body that is just begging and pleading to be fucked thoroughly.

"A noun," you answer.

"Correct! You can put them inside me now!"

Swift and ready, your fingers travel through the sides of Eunbi's underwear and shorts and take pleasure in their destination: her hot, tight cunt. When your two fingers enter her, she practically screams. The virginal clamp of her walls is hard to navigate, but they are only a foretold joy for another part of your body. So you truly don't mind spreading your fingers and parting them. They bring another pro: Eunbi's helpless whines.

"Kiss me," she demands. "Kiss Eunbi, please. Kiss her neck."

Your lips arrive at her full tiers, only for a moment for they line down her cheeks, jaw, and neck. Her scent invades and controls your senses. She cries out needily, and she's honestly evil for it. So completely evil for enunciating her sounds with such desire and submissiveness, even if you're sure it's completely unintentional. But you fall victim to her anyway. You bury your face in her hair and kiss her hard, like you've always wanted to.

That's probably as true as the illustrious tits heaving up and down before you.

She's quite inexperienced, and it shows with the quiver of her form with every kiss you place, in addition to her constant whines, as if she weren't oriented originally to the feeling of being penetrated by your diligent fingers. But she wants it. She wants more of you playing with her body, yet she's hesitant, too. Should she abandon her job as a tutor and instead become your fucktoy for the hour? Or should she return to the former Eunbi—the Eunbi who smiles and claps for her oppa because he asked for her help?

"Come on, oppa. I have to, hmph, read another question. Please let me."

The good Eunbi still lives on. You're so impressed by it that your next kiss is one of tenderness rather than lust. "Good girl, Eunbi. Go on."

Her fingers grasp at the flashcards desperately, trying to keep them visible. "It is the topic of a s-sentence, and can usually found at the beginning or end of the sentence," she reads. There's a pleading glint in her eyes, and they send you a message: Answer this correctly, I need you.

You thumb her clit firmly, causing her to buck against it. It's a sign of her upcoming orgasm, and you are surprised that it will arive earlier than expected. But Eunbi hasn't been touched like this other than by herself. She's new to all this, you have to let her off the hook.

Rack your mind for the answer while Eunbi whimpers at your ever-so-constant thrusts. As you consider the possible answers that present themselves in your mind, she whispers pleads for more. Her thighs squeeze around your arm, telling you to keep going, even though your arm aches. You needed the exercise anyway.

"P-parallelism?" you say dumbly.

"No!" Eunbi shakes her head. "Now you have to stop, oppa. You answered incorrect—no, please, please slow down!"

Frustration wrecks your senses and sends your fingers furiously jabbing in the direction of Eunbi's slit. They do more than just jab. They dive into her and wiggle in order for the tiny hole to allow them in. Eunbi sobs as your kisses get harder, not knowing what to do when the orgasm rips through her body. How can she handle all this?!

You're being too rough. You know you are, yet you keep pistoning your digits inside her like it's an addiction of yours that you simply can't let go of. The sounds of her pussy slick with wetness and juices intoxicate you and send your impulsive actions into a flurry. Meanwhile, Eunbi's screams are becoming more and more concerning.

"No, it's not your prize anymore! It's too much, you have to slow down!" All those words yet she moves in accordance with your actions, giving you mixed signals. "I want more, oppa, but I have to be a good tutor!"

"The only good you're going to be is my good little girl," you declare. Teeth capture her earlobe then her neck. "And my good girl is about to cum, isn't she?"

Eunbi blushes at your words. She nods. She can tell from the way the heat is becoming borderline unbearable. It's dangerous, it's hot, and most importantly, it's wrong. She shouldn't have offered her body as your prize in the first place. She should have yielded to the temptation and resisted her lust. But they are all would've-could've-should'ves now. Eunbi is trapped in you.

She isn't sure if she wants to find a way out.

"Then cum for me. Cum for oppa, be good for him."

Her tummy is becoming too tight. She's scared, she's turned on, and she is very very close. "But oppaaa! I can't!" she sobs. "I can't, it's too hot, I can't I can't I can't—!"

She says she cannot, yet the stream of liquid sprays on your hands anyway. Eunbi's legs flail and spread, allowing you to furiously pump her core to climax. She screams the whole time, blinded by pleasure along with the heat. It pushes her nipples to erection and her toes to curl tightly.

You could have cum on the spot just from watching her cum. The climax electrifies her being and makes her shake from it. You never thought you could ever see Eunbi cum. The world is funny like that, bringing out the unexpected and hiding them once it becomes the opposite. You thought that her climax would be accompanied by quiet pleads. Instead, she cums hardly and violently. Her core holds onto your fingers and her clit twitches with need.

The flashcards have long dropped on her skirt. The worksheets are stained and wet from her squirt. It's all greatly unprofessional and low. But to you, she's still a good tutor. Still your good girl.

"You okay, Eunbi?" you ask softly. "Are you alright, sweet girl?"

She's shuddering like she's cold. Anyone would have offered her a jacket. You, however, offer her a kiss.

"I'm okay," Eunbi says, both to calm your fears of having hurt her and herself. Her eyes are closed and her mouth hangs slightly open to let out heavy pants. "Eunbi's okay."

"Glad to hear that," you say with a relieved smile. She smiles back tiredly. "Still up to tutor me after this?"

She nods. Of course she is. She is yours now, after all, although the two of you haven't been able to grasp at saying it out loud yet.

"Any last questions?"

"Yes, of course."

Eunbi lies back into your chest with a sigh of exhaustion. It's the happy kind of tiredness though. It was quite the surreal experience. In just a matter of minutes and only with your finger, she saw stars and still needs to be brought back down to earth.

Her whole body is numb. She needs to feel something. "The answer was noun, by the way."

"I thought so."

"Sure you did. What's a pronoun?"

That, you know. It's easy to remember since they are used so often. "Words used to substitute for names and things so they don't get repetitive. Examples are 'it,' 'she,' 'him,' and so on."

"Correct! Your prize is this!"

Her fingers stretch the garter of her shorts, and let its material fall to the floor. Her underwear follows shortly after. Your dazed eyes follow each slip and descent with longing. Then you realize that you don't have to long and wish for it like you did all those days ago. You can actually have it. She wants you to have it, and that fact alone makes it all the more exciting.

The storm of lust takes her down. She crashes on the sofa of your living room. You splay her legs apart to prepare her for the second taking. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she watches you fish out your erection, which already leaks with desire.

Then she looks up at you.

Kwon Eunbi looks up at you with bewildered eyes, with her legs spread apart and the skirt unable to do even the slightest bit of covering up. Her tits look even bigger from this angle, because they're squished up behind her black bra and by the blouse.

But most importantly, there's her pretty pussy to admire.

And to savage.

All she tells you before it happens is one, simple request:

"P-please be gentle."

You, however, do not reply. You can't make promises you can't keep.

After that, only obscene sounds come spilling out of the valedictorian's mouth. And it's all because of your dick rushing into her hugging walls, forcing them apart. Eunbi cries out, grabbing for anything to keep her sane, yet her fingers only discover the pillows of your sofa. They aren't strong enough to be immune to the dig of her fingernails in them, nor are they soft enough for there to be any comfort for her panicked hands. So she uses her thighs as substitute. She holds her legs and pulls them whenever the pain returns again, somehow unknowingly putting herself in a mating press position.

Her narrow textured walls embrace your cock with unyielding tightness. You were so unprepared for it that you have to calm yourself down before thrusting again. But how can you calm down at all with Eunbi's face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain, and her legs up in the air like that? Not to mention her round tits peeking through the unbuttoned fabric of her blouse?

"S-so big! Oh!" Eunbi flinches as you fire a harder thrust. Your cockhead pokes places even her long, pretty fingers can't reach. She feels so worked up, so utterly vulnerable that her eyes begin to water with tears behind her spectacles. "Please be gentle with me, oppa, you're too big!" she pleads once more. But it isn't the only beg she's going to ask of you this afternoon.

Consider being gentle. Consider engaging in loving, soft vanilla sex with her. But your cock says otherwise. It wants to dive into her with every bit of mercilessness you have, and corrupt this pretty little tutor more. And you are not one to withhold anything from what your cock desires.

But you settle for slow but hard drills first. Eunbi hums, full lips pursed as she tries to take the width and girth of your dick. Her senses still run high because she has just experienced an orgasm from you fingering her, so it's difficult to go through it all without sobbing a little. She's never felt this turned on before, and she is becoming a bit overwhelmed.

"Show me your tits, Eunbi," you ask of her. It's more of a demand, really. Their bounces are limited by the containment of them by her bra, and if you were to give in completely to your desires, you'd rip it straight off. But you want to see her take it off by herself. You've wanted to for as long as you can remember.

Slow down to let her take it off. It's a white lace bra, obviously a little too old and small for her since its clasps let go easily. Her heavy breasts spill from the soft cups and into your line of view.

If you were to use adjectives for Eunbi's bosom, you'd use three: round, soft, and pretty. Their areolas and nipples are pink, erect because of the arousal and the air. They begin to bounce repeatedly now that they are free from their fabric prison. You couldn't be more intrigued with their rising and falling movements. They are far more interesting than the rising and falling action of any stupid classic your English teacher requires you to read.

They drive you to strengthen the force of your pounds. Eunbi wails again. "Oppa!" she says. "Oppa, just let me ask you another question!"

"Ask it while I'm fucking you," you reply.

Her voice strains and cracks as she tries to speak. "What is a... p-predicament, and—oh, god!"

This is the only test Eunbi will ever fail. She cries because of the rough assault your cock offers to her virgin pussy, yet her walls still embrace it demandingly. They never cease with their squeeze, so she can do nothing but want to be subjected to your using even more. She wants you. She wants you to make her cum.

But being a tutor comes first.

"Oppa, please make me ask a question!"

The heave of your hips take a while before they get the message. You force yourself to a stop. God damn it, you were already so close. Screw school for cockblocking you.

Eunbi is both relieved and disappointed that you stopped. The tears that watered in her eyes have slid down her pale cheeks while the juices from her well-fucked pussy drip down the sofa like a waterfall. You've taken her so roughly that there are red marks of your hands on her legs. You feel a little sorry that you've treated such a sweet girl so harshly; she looks so spent. And to think that this is only her first time!

"I—I need to catch my breath," she says. Her eyes close while her mouth performs the opposite. It inhales sharp draws of breath that make her breasts heave and fall. You feel the slightest tinge of guilt that despite the rough session and the break the two of you are taking, you are still utterly turned on.

Lucky for you, there's only better things to look forward to in the hour.

"You were so big inside me, oppa," she moans. "I thought that I couldn't handle it... but I liked it so much."

Recall your earlier line and state it: "I thought so."

"I still have another question or two," she says.

"Hit me."

"Give three kinds of adverbs."

"Adverbs of time.... uh, place? And manner?"

"Correct. You've earned a tit...." Eunbi struggles to say it without getting flustered. "I'll just show you."

One gentle push from Eunbi and you're the one on the sofa now. Buttons are released and undone, and her two breasts wrap your length with its loving softness. It takes time for you to realize what is going on. So it hits you a little later to realize that Kwon Eunbi, your pretty little tutor, is giving you a titjob.

Where did she learn all of this? That she answers right after the thought touches on your mind.

"Does it feel good?" she asks nervously. "I tried to watch some, um, videos of it, but it always seemed so hard."

She moves her breasts up and down, trapping them in the jail that is the soft flesh squeezing your appendage and stimulating your senses. Her tits love the sensation, too, especially when Eunbu's fingers tap on her all-too-sensitive nipples. Whenever that happens, she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, in a feeble attempt to calm her thoughts.

"You're doing great, Eunbi," you groan out. More than great, in fact. Her bosom does most of the work, but her expressions contribute to your wants and needs as well. Those watery puppy eyes and the stretched frown of her lips make you want to fuck her mouth. See how much she can take and how much she can cry.

Next time.

Claustrophobia never overtakes your cock. They enjoy the pillowy closeness of the tiniest spaces of Eunbi's boobs. Eunbi looks on with utter fascination. She has never done this before, and never even thought that this was a thing. So she's a little surprised at how easy it is, and how good it feels for you. The breathy groans you make as you slide in and out of her voluptuous chest make her core wet with need.

You get off more easily and earlier than you expected. Just a few more upwards thrusts and you've ejaculated all over her. Eunbi gasps surprisedly at the sticky white substance that sprayed so suddenly. There's spurts on her collarbone, chin, and bosom. She looks so satisfyingly dirty that your guilt for arriving earlier almost completely washes away.

Her eyes connect to your tired gaze. Then, she fingers the wet semen and circles them on her nipples. She bites her lip, whimpering a little, but starts to tweak her nipples to deliver shudders of pleasure throughout her body. A drop of cum is swallowed from her finger.

"Eunbi-ya..." You're more than take aback. In a good way. "When did you get so dirty?"

"I had Sakuchan teach me." Her eyes close as she remembers what Sakura did to her. "She was a good tutor."

Sakura? Does she mean Miyawaki Sakura, the girl who wins a lot of the pageants at school? Oh. Well, the two of them do seem particularly close...

"Oppa."

You dash a look towards Eunbi inquisitively. "Yeah?" you ask. You can't believe her glasses have managed to stay on despite the rough fucking.

"I have one last question for you."

"And what might that be?"

Eunbi places her arms on your lap and rests her chin on one of them, tilting her head to the side. "Do you promise to treat me like your good girl?"

She's a seductive force to be reckoned with, one that was more of what she was born with rather than was taught. She climbs onto your lap like she has always known she's fit for it, and cages your sides with her beautiful legs. Her skirt lies on her thighs, a curtain disguising what is yet to come, while her hands drape themselves over your shoulders. They squeeze your tense muscles, yet your form never relaxes. Your body is too caught up with the lack of oxygen.

There she goes again with that pout. Downward tugs at the end of her plump lips, eyes glossy with the ghost of an innocence long gone. The specs allow her to see your hesitant face, so she spices the deal up.

"Do you promise," Eunbi says, "to make this memorable for me? Make it a good first time?"

Jesus, what was Sakura teaching her?

"Of course, Eunbi," is your answer. And apparently, the correct one. The only answer she'd take.

"Correct. For that, you can fill me up."

She has made plenty of requests over the time of the session: requests for you to go easy, to answer her questions correctly... too many to count. The word is starting to sound made up. But your head is only filled with thoughts of fucking her senseless.

Oh, you'll make it memorable for her, alright.

The tension breaks. You go wild, now that this second session won't be interrupted by academic questions. Those stupid questions that shouldn't dictate your worth, nor your future. Your job isn't going to ask you what time fucking Shakespeare was born. So why should you have to spend eternal hours studying for a test paper you're going to fail anyway? Why should you?

But surely there is no reason why you shouldn't fuck Eunbi. There is no reason why you shouldn't insert yourself inside the hole between those slick folds, see the pleasure run through her gorgeous face, and watch those exposed tits bounce. There is no reason for you not to grab her body and trap her against the sofa and take her pussy from between her widespread legs.

So you do it.

Switch positions. Grab Eunbi's shapely hips and turn around swiftly, pinning her down to the sofa. Swiftly enter her quivering form. She's still so hot and tight, you think, with a groan that mixes with Eunbi's moans.

Your brisk actions make her tense around you. She isn't sure if she is going to be able to take it again. Your erection still remains as large as ever. It penetrates her inexperienced body so well that she doesn't think she'll want any other dick to take her this way, even if she's only received one all this time: yours.

Her moans return. From there, you cannot hold back. You pound into Eunbi with gusto. She yelps everytime, squirming to make herself comfortable in this position and to bring herself closer to your cock. Not that it's leaving anytime soon; only a few inches exit with your in-and-out thrusts, driving your leaking mushroom head repeatedly to her cervix. Her cries are as constant as your drills.

You fight against the narrowness of her walls. You thrust in her with the intention to fuck her so good that you make them memorize the shape and length of your dick. Eunbi's tightness isn't a problem, though; it's easier to rub the texture of her walls this way. Easier to make her scream.

Her cum-covered tits now bounce freely. They've been released from the confinement of her bra and buttons earlier, so you are offered the pretty viee of them jiggling as you knock Eunbi up. Semen covers their nipples. It drips down to her toned stomach. You've been put in such a sex-crazed trance by them that it almost steals your attention away from her pleasured face.

Lopsided glasses remain before Eunbi's wide, fluttering eyes. You are using her thighs to pull yourself to her, and to spread them to allow more heavenly access. Her skirt has flown up to her taut tummy. She is such a mess for your cock in every way, yet you still find yourself wildly attracted to her. She's perfect, from her moans to her squirms, her whines and her cries.

"D-don't stop!" Eunbi tells you. There's no "please" attached to the starts or ends of her requests anymore. Her politeness has melted away. Its loss has allowed her to show that her screamed statement isn't a request. No, she's demanding that your thrusts don't falter nor pause. She's demanding for every might you have in your body to be delivered to her in the form of your pumping. "Make me cum, oppa! Make me... hngmph!"

You rub her wet pearl with your thumb, meriting a delightful pursed moan from her. You start to give it harsh and forced flicks. Eunbi responds with several gasped groans that sound higher than before. They're followed by raspier moans, which you didn't expect to love hearing from her. Her screams are better, though, you'd say.

Her celestial form writhes and shifts in its position on your sofa. Eunbi cries out everytime you swipe at her clit again, or throw a spank at her ass, which you only discover now is as equally deserving of appreciation as her tits or face. Every inch of her is perfect. Every inch of her deserves to be loved.

That is precisely why your hands touch everything. You lean over to take one of those pretty nipples in between your fingers and give it a firm squeeze. She sighs delightfully. After kissing her lips and taking in their strawberry bubblegum-like taste, you decide that it is time.

Grab her legs firmly, push them together, then shove them up in the air. Your stomach slaps the curves of her thighs while your dick joins her cervix once more. Eunbi's skirt has no purpose now. At least, not any purpose that is enough to hide her naked obscenity. But you care more for the yells that wickedly corrupt your heart that come from Eunbi's gorgeous set of lips—

For the panicked shake of her legs as your pounds obtain maximum strength—

For the severe cry she makes while her hands yearn and play with her breasts beautifully covered with your semen—

For the look of uncaged wildness in Eunbi's eyes; the one you recognize as the result of a freshly-broken innocence—

—are too much.

"Cum, cum— cumming!" she shrieks. Her whole body spasms and quakes, and you begin to have difficulties keeping her legs, which have been used even in the timespan of half an hour or so to spread for you, in the mating press position. "Oppa, slow down, slow down, can't keep—Ican'tkeepcumm—haaaaah!"

Paint the insides of the little slit with white while Eunbi renders the sofa fabric torn. Tears run down her cheeks. Her fingers, betwixt the red sofa blanket, have gone numb. Breathing becomes a chore; you're still going and going, draining yourself inside her to make the most out of it all.

Then, finally, slide yourself out. Eunbi's pussy has successfully been ejaculated on, just like her breasts and chest. You pray that the next time you find yourself inside her heavenly cunt, one of her name is already "mine."

Nervously, tentatively, lay Eunbi's legs down. Smooth her skirt back down on the pillows that are her thighs. The slightest whine escapes her mouth derived from the soreness. It's her first time, after all—it isn't going to be fine after just a few seconds.

————

"So, uh...." Strangely, you're the one asking the questions. now. Trading places with her, putting yourself in her shoes. Gaze at the exhausted Eunbi on the sofa and the anxiety returns to you. "You want anything? Frozen peas, a blanket, anything?"

"Thank you, but don't try to fool me," says Eunbi, smiling tiredly at what she thinks is your not-so-subtle way of trying to outrun responsibility. Unfortunately for you, responsibility can run nine marathons with the speed of twenty-seven horses.

She tries to spread her legs, but flinches when the pain hits. "You still have a test on T-Tuesday, remember?"

Of course. But you smile anyway. "I'm guessing you don't want another go then?"

A hopeful look passes over her eyes. "Do you still like me?"

Heart thumping against your throat, nod. "Yeah. A lot."

Eunbi nods understandingly. She asks another question that you are surprisingly ready for. "Are you still going to keep me stretched and filled up?"

"Of course. I'm still your oppa, aren't I?"

"And I suppose," Eunbi says quietly, as she looks down a little sullenly, "I'm still your tutor."

Understanding passes between the two of you, without words nor signs. You two dodge glances and avoid dialogue, and you're once again a little scared. You may have fucked Eunbi senselessly and impulsively, but you still have a massive crush on her. Has the sex ruined any chances of a relationship with her?

There's the stab of tomorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as today. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look sideways at Eunbi and realize there is a two-way path with this situation and it does not look easy at all. Everything can go up or downhill from here. There's the phobia making your hands tingle, the shortness of your breath, the sweat on your face.

But there's also Eunbi's head on your shoulder, and her hands sliding into the comfort of yours. And although you still fear the depth the pierce of the future's claws can probe, the monster to whom they belong to doesn't seem so scary at all.

[getsikndie]

Where I get my clothes, and where to buy clowncore fashion

Alright so, ever since I’ve started posting my outfits on here and instagram I’ve been frequently asked where I get my clothes so I decided to just make this post I can direst people to when they ask. What I’m going to be covering in this post is:

☆ Where I buy my clothes

☆ Where I got the specific pieces that are most frequently asked about

☆ Brands/shops that sell clowncore and kidcore fashion

☆ About where the pieces used in my urstyle sets come from

Let me know if you want me to make a clowncore style guide/ post with basics and recommendations for starting to wear the fashion.

WHERE I BUY MY CLOTHES

The answer to that is that majority of my clothes, and especially the more interesting pieces are bought second-hand, either from thrift stores or depop. If you’re looking for weird or colorful clothes, thrift stores and antique stores are the first place you should check because a lot of common things in clowncore fashion such as weird/ugly sweaters or colorful frilly blouses are vintage.

When buying stuff online, yes you can search for terms like “clowncore” or “kidcore” and get results from people who know those aesthetics, but I usually have better luck finding stuff I like by making a pinterest board of clothes I want, and then searching for specific items on depop and ebay. 

For example some of the things I search for are “colorful vintage sweater” “clown sweater” “colorful 80s blouse” “vintage rainbow sweater” “vintage bed jacket” “square dance dress”. I also search for old Lazy Oaf stuff, because I feel like 2010s Lazy Oaf goes well with clowncore. The only other brand I specifically search for is Eagles Eye, who made some of the weird sweaters I own.

Accessorizing is also important for this style, and you can find stuff like patterned socks/tights, novelty purses, and quirky earrings pretty easily on Amazon and Ebay. But I’d also recommend looking on Etsy to find more unique and better quality accessories.

WHERE I GOT SPECIFIC PIECES:

These are just the ones most frequently asked about so I thought I’d put them in here, if there’s something else not included here feel free to ask.

Blue clown face sweater: This was bought in 2016 from beautifulhalo.com and sold out soon after I got it. It’s actually a dupe of a very similar Lazy Oaf sweater that was sold out before that.

Red letter skirt: I actually made this myself out of a plain red circle skirt I thrifted, and some foam letters that you can buy in the kids arts and crafts section of walmart or similar stores.

Fuzzy red cartoon eye dress: This is from Lazy Oaf, I got it second hand on ebay.

Crayola crayons sweater: I bought this on ebay, the brand is the Eagle’s Eye.

Blue burger top: This is another Lazy Oaf piece I got on ebay.

M&M button up shirt: I got this in NYC from the M&M store there in 2019, I’m not sure if they still sell them or if they’re available online.

Red clown sweater: I bought this on Etsy in 2017 and I’m under the impression it was one of a kind, but I’m not 100% sure. 

Rainbow striped top: My mom got me this for Christmas in 2019 I think, and I’m pretty sure she got it from Amazon. It’s a dupe of a top made by Minga London, although the original uses a darker shade of blue. You can probably still find it if you search “rainbow stripe turtleneck” or something.

Rockafire Explosion Rolfe and Earle tee: Got this from https://www.cafepress.com/rockafireworld, they have merch of the other characters as well.

BRANDS/SHOPS THAT SELL CLOWNCORE AND KIDCORE FASHION:

Here are some links to brands, stores, and depop accounts that sell clowncore and kidcore type clothes. Note that some of them sell other clothes besides that so you might have to look through their stuff.

https://www.kinaandtam.com/ (Can be a bit pricey, but I’ve bought a sweater from them and it’s great quality, def recommend) 

https://www.lazyoaf.com/collections/lazy-oaf-x-nhozagri (while i feel like the lazy oaf aesthetic has shifted and become less kidcore over the years, they still do make colorful weird stuff sometimes)

https://theraggedpriest.com/  (have some cool colorful stuff if you look for it)

https://www.depop.com/kitschcore/ (vintage clothes)

https://www.depop.com/sweetcarolinesvintage/ (vintage clothes)

https://www.depop.com/sweaterweatherco/ (colorful sweaters)

https://www.depop.com/maekshift/ (clown costumes)

https://www.depop.com/bluebearboutique/ (colorful collars)

https://www.depop.com/mysticalbaby/ (jewelry)

https://katabasisagora.com/ (upcycled/altered pieces, featured in my urstyle sets multiple times)

https://www.etsy.com/shop/MaliciousDesignsLA (dresses and sets, very melanie martinez-esque but some also give me clown vibes)

https://www.etsy.com/shop/ichigoblack (bloomers, dresses and skirts)

https://www.etsy.com/shop/KawaiiKave (accessories)

https://www.etsy.com/shop/YellowThreadd (accessories)

https://www.etsy.com/shop/SistersEnchanted (clown collars)

https://rommydebommy.com/ (realistic food purses - super expensive but very cool i dream of owning one T_T)

https://www.fashionbrandcompany.com/ (duh)

That’s all I can think of atm, hopefully I’m not forgetting anything I know of

ABOUT MY URSTYLE SETS

If you follow me it might be because of my urstyle sets, aka outfit collages I’ve made on the website urstyle (it’s just like polyvore). I make these as moodboard basically, putting together outfits for whatever style I’m into at the current moment, but none of the pngs I use are my photos and only a couple of my sets include clothes that I own, since they’re more like pictures of outfits I wish I own. If I want to make outfits with my clothes I can just wear them lol

Some of the pictures I use I uploaded myself from pinterest or other websites, but I also use a lot of pictures that weren’t uploaded by me. For the majority of the clothes, I don’t know where they’re from or where to get them, although there are a few that I do know. If you want to know whether I know where a specific piece is from, just ask me, but please don’t ask the general question of “where are these clothes from” or “where do you buy these” under my urstyle posts since that broad of a question is hard to answer.

Hope this answered some questions people might have!

[milfzatannaz]

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!

[summerwritesfics]

🍓No Tricks, Only Treats

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 1316 Words Rating: Teen Warnings: Costume Party, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Halloween Party, Fluff, Bunny Girl Outfits, Kuai Is A Cutie Pie, Hanzo Has Vague memories Of Either MKvsDC or Injustice (whichever you prefer lmao) @anyfandomfluffbingo: Costume Party

Summary: Hanzo & Kuai Liang attend Johnny’s Halloween party.

AFG Fluff Bingo Masterlist

Notes: Heeeyyyyy Happy Halloween :) I was looking through my bingo prompts because tbh, I need to really start working on them, and I realised this prompt was perfect for a short little Halloween fic! So, enjoy!

Halloween was an oddity to Hanzo.

He didn’t really get the point of it if he was being honest. Trick and treating, while he could understand it being fun for kids, didn’t really sound appealing to him. Dressing in silly costumes even less so.

But when Johnny Cage invited you to a party, it was very hard to say no. Especially with Kuai Liang extremely enthusiastic about the idea, wanting to experience as much of what a normal life would feel like as possible. The fact that it was a costume party just seemed to excite Kuai more. He’d never worn a costume to a party before, the idea so novel that he’d been basically talking about it non-stop. The kids had offered to take him shopping for one and he’d eagerly agreed.

Hanzo hadn’t gone with them, and hadn’t seen Kuai’s costume yet. Due to their schedules they were also arriving to the party separately. He wondered what ridiculous outfit they’d managed to persuade Kuai to buy. He’d heard Cassandra pitch some ice queen outfit from some animated movie, but if that was the direction they’d gone in he didn’t know.

Hanzo himself had just gone kind of simple, and a little classic according to Johnny Cage. His pirate costume had been relatively inexpensive, and it was not exactly good quality, but he hadn’t wanted to spend a lot on something he was going to use once. The other guests' costumes seemed to vary in effort. Cassandra and Jacqueline had gone all out with quite intricate outfits. Supposedly they were a pair of supervillain lesbians, but Hanzo had no idea what they were referring to. Then you had Sonya, who’d thrown a bit of fake blood onto a blouse and called herself a zombie. According to Johnny, that was her outfit every year.

“Nice costume, Grandmaster,” a voice broke him out of his musings. He turned to find Kung Jin standing next to him.

“Thank you.” Hanzo looked Kung Jin up and down. He wasn’t completely sure on what Jin’s costume was, but given it was green and he had a bow and arrow he could make somewhat of an educated guess. “Are you meant to be Robin Hood?”

“I’m Green Arrow!” Jin sounded offended at the idea he was anything but this “Green Arrow” person. “Anyone would think you’ve never read a comic book or something.”

“Uh huh,” Hanzo sarcastically hummed. So he was also a superhero then. Seemed the kids were going for a theme.

From the corner of his eye, someone else peered around him. Even with an almost full face mask on, Hanzo could tell it was Takeda.

“I’m Batman,” he announced, putting on a gruff voice that made Jin burst into laughter.

“See, now, Batman I know,” Hanzo told Jin, lazily pointing at Takeda. “I don’t like him, but I know him.”

“What?” Takeda exclaimed, dropping the voice and standing straight. “How can you hate Batman?”

“I just have a weird feeling about him.” It was like something had happened in a past life in relation to the caped crusader. Which was absolutely ridiculous when he thought about it. Batman was a fictional character and didn’t exist, so the feeling was completely irrational. Still, something about it made him uneasy. He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject with “so, what? Did you four convince Kuai Liang to be a superhero as well?”

“Nah, we let him do his own thing.” Takeda made a dismissive motion with his hand. “He seemed happy with what he got though.”

“Think you’ll be happy with it too,” Jin quietly chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. Hanzo couldn’t help but eye him suspiciously.

“What did you guys let him buy?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at Jin. He could just imagine that Kuai was about to walk in wearing the most absurd thing the kids could convince him to buy.

Jin bit his lip and smirked, “oh. You’ll see.” He then pointed across the room. “In fact, he’s here.”

Hanzo looked around just in time to see Kuai Liang walking into the party. His jaw dropped at what he saw.

Kuai Liang in what Hanzo could only describe as a bunny girl outfit.

He watched as Kuai was greeted by Johnny and Sonya, both clearly amused by what Kuai was wearing. It was a light blue bodysuit without straps and fishnet tights. He had a pair of bunny ears perched on his head, a small ball of fluff attached to his ass like a tail, and to top it all off a pair of high heel shoes the same colour as the bodysuit. Hanzo could feel his face getting hot, he completely understood Jin’s snide comment. Kuai did have a habit of wearing revealing clothing but this was the furthest he’d ever gone in public before.

“Have fun~” Jin sang in a teasing way, reaching under Hanzo’s chin and closing his mouth, teeth loudly clacking together. Hanzo glared at him, but Jin just laughed in his face. All Hanzo could do in retaliation was watch as Jin and Takeda walked away.

“Hanzo,” Kuai greeted cheerfully as he made his way over. The bright smile on his face was a beautiful sight. Even if Hanzo had originally had reservations about coming to the party, it was worth it to see Kuai experiencing pure joy from something so silly and simple. “I like your costume.”

“Ah. And I like yours,” Hanzo admitted, taking a better look at it now Kuai was closer. God damn he pulls it off a little too well. “Was this your idea or the kids?”

“A little of both,” Kuai explained with a sheepish grin. “I wanted to but wasn’t sure and they convinced me.”

It occurred to Hanzo that the kids' encouragement was probably an effort to make Hanzo flustered. Kenshi had warned him the group were on the warpath to break past the “Grandmaster Grumpyface” persona. He supposed this time, they actually won. He glanced across the room at them, where the four were now grouped together, watching Kuai and Hanzo, giggling to themselves over their victory.

They are the worst Superhero group I’ve ever seen. 

“Apparently Sonya is jealous because my legs are nicer than hers,” Kuai continued, holding one of the aforementioned limbs up as emphasis. Hanzo snorted at that. “Her words, not mine, to clarify.”

“Well, I do agree with her, you do have fantastic legs.” Hanzo cleared this throat slightly as he stared at the body parts in question. “As well as other assets.”

“Other ass-ets?” Kuai questioned, stressing that particular part of the word, making it obvious what he thought Hanzo was getting at.

“That’s not what I meant,” Hanzo clarified with a huff. Kuai just tilted his head at him. “I mean don’t get me wrong that part of you is magnificent but it’s not the only part of you that is.”

The grin on Kuai’s face just emphasised the point. It made all the features on his face light up and just proved how beautiful he was. Hanzo couldn’t help himself, he lent forward to press a kiss on the tip of Kuai’s nose. Kuai snorted and pulled back slightly while gently pushing Hanzo away, which was exactly the kind of reaction he was looking for.

“Want to go get a drink?” He asked casually, trying to resist another kiss as Kuai’s cheeks were turning red.

“Hm, I could do with one.” Kuai lent forward slightly, bracing a hand against Hanzo’s collarbone. “Lead the way, Captain.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes in jest, but held out his arm so Kuai could link with his. Kuai gladly accepted, letting Hanzo guide both of them. The night was young, and as long as Kuai Liang had a good time, Hanzo was happy to indulge him until he decided it was over.

[thethistlegirlwrites]

By Invitation Only

When John opens the door to his apartment, he instinctively knows he’s not alone.

Part of it is the subtle undercurrent of his Second Sight, informing him of the slightly raised window sash, the displaced coffee table, and the marks on the rug that weren’t left by his own feet.

Part of it is the smell of blood permeating the air that he knows isn’t coming from him. Most nights, he might not question it, but he was stuck riding a desk tonight while the Harris case is under internal investigation. He’s positive it’ll get cleared up in his favor, he was defending a human who simply ran off before anyone could get their statement to confirm it, but until that staking is ruled justified, he’s out of the field.

The closest he’s been to blood all evening is filling out requisition forms for a new chiller unit for their clinic blood bank. 

He draws his stake and moves slowly through the room, past the kitchenette and down the hall, to where a few specks of bright red stop outside the bathroom door.

He opens the door, and Emma looks up from where she’s scrubbing her stained hands in the sink. The mirror is disturbingly blank aside from the flecks of blood. 

“It’s not mine.” She nods to the bathtub, where something wrapped in plastic bags is lying. “I was really hoping he was just going to dust on me.” 

In retrospect, inviting Emma into his apartment that one time she was running from some vigilantes should probably have told him it wouldn’t be the last time she’d show up here. She’s free to come and go whenever she chooses, now, unless he moves. 

“You brought a dead body into my apartment?” John asks, for lack of any other coherent response to the situation.

“Technically, two.” Emma gestures vaguely to herself, adding water and soap splatter to the blood speckling her scarlet blouse. 

John doesn’t dignify that correction with a response.

“What do you expect me to do with it?”

“Nothing. I just couldn’t deal with him before sunrise, so I’m going to have to wait until sundown. Then I’ll dispose of him.” She shrugs. “I staked him and cut off the head for good measure. He’s not going to wake up on you.”

“You can’t just stash bodies in my apartment!”

“I’d have taken him back to the club, but I don’t have a car, and getting in a cab with a decapitated corpse tends to raise a few too many questions. Your place was closer.”

John doesn’t even want to ask what Emma is doing on this side of town, well outside her own turf. 

“It was him or me,” She says, as if what John is worried about is the legitimacy of her kill. Apparently, old hunter habits die hard. “He brought a human host into my club, then bolted when I confronted him. By the time I finally caught up to him, he’d decided it would be in his best interests to get rid of me before I got him in trouble. Probably the only reason I did catch up to him. He was doubling back to get rid of me once he made it onto his coven’s turf.”

“And you couldn’t just leave his body laying around for the rest of his coven to find.” John is finally starting to understand the circumstances to this bizarre end to his night. 

“Exactly. I didn’t leave any ties to myself at the scene, the stake is still in him, but he had the Luna’s stamp on his wrist. It wouldn’t have been hard for his coven to retrace his steps and find out I’d tracked him onto their turf and killed him.”

Technically, by vampire standards, she’s in the wrong.

But in hunter books, keeping a human host is a far more serious crime than crossing boundary lines.

John won’t be writing this up any time soon. 

He pushes aside the shower curtain to inspect the body, just in case it’s someone tied to any open Chimera investigations. He doesn’t recognize the curly black hair or the puckered scar on the decaying cheek. 

Emma keeps telling him she’s left the hunter world behind for good, but the stake in the vampire’s chest is newly made and the kind of quality Chimera always expects from its employees. Sure, plenty of vampires are known to kill their own kind in turf disputes and squabbles, but most go for means that display their strength. Throats torn out that leave victims to bleed into a coma, heads severed and sometimes kept as trophies. Hearts impaled with anything from twisted-off rebar to combat knives.

Vampires who use wooden stakes are few and far between. It’s considered a hunters’ weapon. 

He grimaces and rewraps the plastic around the body. He really hopes none of the other building tenants complain to the landlord about smells until this body is gone.

They will if it stays in here all day. 

“I’ll deal with him, Em.” John says. “I’ll just tell the crematory people to keep it on the down low because technically I’m not supposed to be on active duty.” The stake kill will certainly sell his story. 

“You don’t have to.”

“I do if I don’t want my landlord busting in with the third complaint this month.” Okay, so he probably could have avoided the noise one, but it’s a crime to play Metallica on low volume. Apparently, it’s also a crime to play it on high. 

He glances at Emma. “You hurt?”

“Not this time.” Emma holds up her now-washed hands and arms, showing the lack of any damage.

“There’s a clean t-shirt and sweatpants that should fit you in the guest room. Along with most of the rest of my laundry.” So sue him, he hates folding and never has anyone staying over. “I know you can’t sleep without your home earth, but I can pick some up on my way back from the crematorium. And some synth-blood.”

“I really don’t need all that. Just somewhere to lie low until the sun goes down.”

“My momma would have my hide if she thought I wasn’t treating my guests right.”

“She might also have your hide for inviting a vampire into your living space.”

John shrugs. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

He looks into the stained bathtub at the body. No way is he carrying this thing through the halls and down the stairs, or risking getting stuck with it in the temperamental elevator.

Apparently, this guy���s going out the way he came.

Down the fire escape.

Well, as far as mornings go, this is only the third weirdest he can remember…

(You can read this story and more from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter @whump-place

[gal-palanaeum]

Calamine by kaoinim

Rated Teen, 74,000 words, Marasi/MeLaan A Bands of Mourning AU where Marasi gets agency, a proper character arc, and, most importantly, a hot shapeshifter gf

For two glorious hours, Marasi Colms mattered. 

VenDell wanted her. Sure, he’d gone to Waxillium first, and made no attempt to hide it. Sure, it was only her connection to Waxillium that made her relevant to the kandra’s interests in the first place. Sure, Wayne’s request to return to the mansion was a completely unsubtle ploy at getting Wax involved.

But none of that mattered, because Waxillium wasn’t working with them, and she was-

-and then he walked in, and she just knew that it was all over.

“Sorry about this,” she said, trying and failing to keep the colour from her face. “We were going to go to my flat to talk, but Wayne insisted…”

“Needed some nuts,” the man in question said, tiny fragments of half-chewed walnut flying from his lips as he spoke. “When you invited me to stay here, you did say to make myself at home, mate.” He was slouched in an easy chair with his filthy boots up on the coffee table, MeLaan draped over the other chair in the set next to him.

The kandra woman (if the word ‘woman’ even applied) was wearing a new body, one Marasi hadn’t seen before - tall and lean, straight blonde hair in a simple tail, wearing a loose blouse and trousers that looked almost uncomfortably tight. Her posture was similar to Wayne’s, loose and relaxed with her hands behind her head, but where Wayne’s was practised, deliberate insouciance, hers had more of an air of effortless confidence about it. Marasi wasn’t sure if it was part of the character MeLaan was playing, or a quality MeLaan herself possessed - if there even was any such thing as a ‘real’ MeLaan. 

Waxillium tucked his thumbs into his belt, something Marasi had noticed he did when he wanted to appear authoritative but not intimidating. Part of his ‘rough country lawman’ schtick- affect. His affect. 

“I’m still unclear as to why you needed a place to talk,” he said slowly. All eyes in the room had turned to him, and he seemed to unconsciously settle into the centre of attention. “I said I wasn’t going to help.”

“Quite so,” VenDell said. “As you were unavailable, of necessity I turned to other options.” That’s me, Marasi Second-Choice Colms. Maybe someday they’d start calling her that, the way they called Wax “Dawnshot”. “Lady Colms has been so kind as to listen to my proposition.

“Marasi?” Wax asked. “You went to Marasi?”

VenDell said something in reply, but Marasi didn’t hear it. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, focusing on the thin crescents of pain to keep her from saying something. A lady is polite and courteous, a lady does not lose her temper. A small part of her brain, the one she ignored most of the time, whispered a warrior is blunt, a warrior is unafraid, but listening to that voice had never led to anything good.

Whatever VenDell had said, it didn’t seem to have convinced Wax.

“You’re trying to get to me through another route, aren’t you?” he accused VenDell.

“Look who’s full of himself,” MeLaan replied from her chair, saving Marasi from opening her mouth without thinking.

Keep reading

[stoneinc]

*     ◟    :    〔   ruth wilson  ,      cis-woman    +   she / her    〕      claire stone  ,      some say you’re a  forty one year old  lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  conscientious  and  emotional ,  one can’t help but think of  you keep me crawling  by   aurora  when you walk by.    are you still the  ceo   of   stoneage inc ,     even with your reputation as the liability ?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and crumbling behind closed doors, intense glares of dissatisfaction and  creased silk blouses,     although we can’t help but think of jeanine matthews (divergent), rachel duncan (orphan black),   and rebecca bunch (crazy ex-girlfriend)     whenever we see you down these rainy streets.  

oh look, it’s me bringing more morally grey female muses with daddy issues (now never to be resolved) and an obscene and overwhelming amount of power....

triggers: mental illness tw, abandonment tw, abuse tw, just very bad parenting in general tw, death tw, mention of pregnancy tw, ivf tw,

     claire, the first and only (known) child of multi-billionaire damon stone. born somewhere in the south of england, conceived in a ‘dingey bar’/a quaint countryside public house, and not a particularly wanted asset by her parents. her parents had been allies that supported each other’s work and had similar ideas about the future, they got on but were hardly romantic. perhaps their sexual affair had been because of loneliness or driven by their own narcissistic tendencies. both brilliant minds in their own right, they never really stopped working or striving for the future, thus, leaving their child somewhat neglected.

      an emotional child wasn’t something that was ideal for either of them - a massive inconvenience. claire would cry and cry only to be met with logic when all she needed was some contact, a hug from either of them. it was her mother who particularly despised her crying when she was trying to work, so much so that she would resort to physically gripping her daughter a little too tightly, not the type of contact she wanted. damon hadn’t seen his partner cracking but she was. 

    claire’s mother had become so consumed by research that she was unable to think about anything else. her obsession with technology, specifically artificial intelligence, had consumed her and lead her to constantly write journals (ones that would never be published under her name). obsession turned into delusions and resulted in her early death. her mother’s passing deeply affected claire, not so much damon. she was old enough to understand that something had been wrong but not how or why. one minute she had someone whom she called mother, the next she hadn’t.

     her mother’s journals were punished under damon stone. they brought about new opportunities for him and investments started coming his way. from a young age, claire had shown an interest in her father’s work because she quickly saw it as a way to garner affection from the man and get that ‘quality time’ she wanted. prodigy wasn’t an accurate description of claire but it was the words used when she attended university at fifteen. her entire life had been studying and was a compliant child - the thought of exams had terrified her but she had listened to damon and applied what he had taught her (or what she had overheard in passing). 

   it was an investment that paid off for him - she would stay with someone else and that freed up his time to devote to research. he hadn’t even told her that he had moved to the usa until she had turned up (as a surprise) at her now former home only for someone else to answer the door. luckily for her, the strangers had the right temperament to calm her down but she feared being abandoned and she had felt like it had happened. damon assured her that it was not the case but what kind of parent would not only move but move countries and not tell his child? damon’s selfish actions had preyed on her insecurity of only having him and losing him just as easily as her mother seemed to go.

    it upset her and her father couldn’t understand why. he had seen a fatal flaw in her, a weakness that he had a severe distaste for. while her academics remained at the top of her class, multiple professors advised that she was too young for the institution, that it was breaking her and that she should be withdrawn from the course. they made a point of it to damon but he declined. the professors spoke to claire but she’d burst into tears and say that it couldn’t happen, that she needed to do this. if she wasn’t able to keep up with damon’s intellect, she felt she’d lose him completely.

       nepotism would serve her well as she assumed a role in stoneage inc. at straight after completing her phd, at the age of twenty two. her academic would quickly be washed away by the inside hatred others would have for her, claiming the ‘special treatment’ due to the blood in her veins. at this point, her personal and professional life had fully merged into one. as stoneage inc. had more and more success, damon would only treat her as a colleague and would ridicule her, perhaps worse, for her emotional outbursts. he had always made them worse but he had hoped that if she received poor treatment, it would deter her from making the same mistake. claire wasn’t ‘strong’ like he was - all it did was knock her down. 

    to an onlooker, she was the classic spoilt prodigy nepotist baby in new york city. she would go out and party, would always take it too far and would even accidentally injure herself in the process. reckless and spoiled. when damon came to pick up the pieces, it was the only time he was kind and actually took care of her. however, he would take notes and label her as a liability in his mind and also spread it among his most trusted advisors.

damon kept her away from his dodgy dealings and somewhat forced her into motherhood when she assumed responsibility for sabine. the man made sure she was approved and that further lead her away from the research field. to claire, sabine was just someone that needed someone - who was she to argue with that? she wouldn't realise that it had been a calculated move, a rather misogynistic one from her father. claire quickly became attached to sabine. she cried and claire would have the natural instinct to run to her and give her a hug, to give her something she never got growing up (or rather rarely). AT SOME POINT, claire did become an overbearing mother and her control issues definitely started influencing their relationship with each other. it's not something that she realises she's doing but she is a stone after all - can you really fight your nature?

    over the years, claire would continue her research but would be kept at arms length. damon wanted her to remain out of the corruption and tensions, to keep her at arms length personally so she wasn’t a distraction. no one would know why mr. stone kept her so distant when also writing her as the sole inheritor of  stoneage inc. (keeping her in the dark would do his legacy and multi-billion dollar empire a favour in the future). 

    she would also develop her own unwanted feelings towards androids. they were emotionless, efficient, everything her father wanted her to be. perhaps that was why he was so obsessed. the woman found herself wishing far too many times that she was one - maybe appreciation would come with that. it was a thought that she’d run away with, primarily while drinking alone in her exquisite penthouse. it was so easy to just erase a models memory, to reinvent it for a particular purpose. it felt like dangerous territory and she knew it. claire envied them but her interest was peaked if they could be capable of taking on a particular emotion, a download of her own negative feelings onto a drive. it didn’t seem realistic but it also didn’t seem impossible. however it was only a thought, one that turned into several but none ever actioned or analysed. 

     multi-billionaire damon stone drops dead. that would be the headline. an unexpected death at a crucial moment in trial talks with the government, a bereaved claire steps in to close the deal. cause of death remains undetermined and foul play has not been ruled out. a surprise and expected, claire stone assumes the role of ceo of stoneage incorporation as well as inheriting her father’s fortune. it was a partnership that would be described as destined. she had failed at winning her father’s affection and she wouldn’t fail again. that was easier said than done.

    there is a period when it seems the woman doesn't care about her dear father's passing - she was thrown into the deep end and wanted to do well, finally given the chance to prove her worth. it was odd how little tears she shed given her past emotional outbursts. there was a lot she needed to be doing. there was a lot of pressure on her but for the first time in her life she not only accepted it but thrived on it. it was like a temporary high for her. with damon out of the picture, claire's life felt better and that didn't feel like it was stopping.

people would think it was the wrong time to try for a child shortly after her father's passing and her peaking in her career but claire felt like it was the perfect time - everything was going right. someone had donated and her ivf treatment had succeeded after a few rounds that had made her ill. she'd push through. of course, the maternal image does not go without stoneage capitalising on it, to show that it is just as about people and the new generation as it is about ai. claire doesn't believe everything that comes out of her mouth, she hates everyone telling her she's glowing when she feels absolutely terrible but it was good for business. the woman who's got it all - that would be a frequent headline.

at the end of june, claire has another daughter at a birthing centre surrounded by trusted confidants and a small selection of vetted staff members. the high from it all is beyond her. she names her celine but hopes no one will call her cece for short but lina instead. so many emotions are going through her during that first week and the room is silent after she utters the words 'i can't wait for him to meet her'. it's like she's been hit with a dose of reality, it finally sinking in that her father isn't here, neither is her mother. the memory of her and damon in the theatre clapping for sabine comes to her, they'd been so proud of her but she was unable to imagine that situation for the baby up against her because it was unattainable. finally breaking down in tears follows that, an extremely delayed reaction but an action, nonetheless. claire felt like she had destroyed her own happiness by making that statement, it forcing her to acknowledge what was happening, what had actually happened to her?

now comes the time where claire feels like she's pushed herself too hard. every thought somehow leads her back to him and nightmares start up in her very little sleep time. her subconscious has blocked something out and she can't uncover what. at the same time as trying to care for celine, she feels like sabine is the one that needs the most attention from her. she does as much as she can from home because she feels like lina's too tiny to be taken into that place - she wants to keep her from it.

     to those outside, claire stone is a formidable force but others within the corporation know that it’s only a matter of time before she cracks, and when that happens they will be there to assume the inc. for themselves...

THE UNKNOWN

the something that she has blocked out entirely and at this stage doesn't know about. the first model of replicant stoneage put out was an C1AI.re, a replicant that had been modelled by the couples own daughter with some modifications on the features that they thought weren't attractive/wouldn't 'sell'. the models were suddenly discontinued several years after their release, previously being a model to be upgraded. it was when damon had grown to despise his own daughter.

C - Claire

1 - first

AI - what it says on the tin

.re - replicant

perhaps some plots??

honestly looking for anything and everything but here are some ideas

people who work for meta news - perhaps they’re old friends that have spoken in a professional setting before? someone who ran a succession story on claire without permission, someone who’s been trying to get her to do that tasteless all-about-me interview after the death of her father? an ally that has buried stuff (can be discussed) for her in the past? 

sentient androids that, you know, want her gone. self-explanatory. also perhaps a privately hired android? only the best, of course. 

someone under her wing - we all know after reading my ramblings claire is a mess but would be nice if she had people under her wing, most likely started before she assumed her new role in the incorporation. what their intentions are is utp. maybe even her own protegé? someone with potential?

i’m tired right now so i’m stopping here but i love brainstorming and would love to get plots with you. this probably wasn't all of it but i love to muse!!

[imjustabeanie]

You seem so cool asjjdkshdjsks

Aurora, they/them

Cancer

INFP

4w5

I’m not sure what my sexuality is, but I prefer men.

Appearance: 5'5, straight black hair, brown eyes (its very brown with the right lighting). I'm built like a stick figure. Olive skin and beauty marks on my face (we match!). People have told me that I look unapproachable? It’s the rbf, aha. I'm experimenting with fashion rn, so my style can alternate between pastel blouses and skirts, or all black (alt style?).

I daydream a lot and tend to space out when I’m not talking to someone. I’m a true introvert, but I love to talk to certain people and about things I find interesting, like my fixations or a fun hypothetical situation. I also tend to get lost in new places. :’)

I value my authenticity, creativity and emotional intelligence (I can’t say I’m really empathetic, but I listen to people when they need me to and I try to be there for them). I am quite sensitive and emotional. Being hungry in a noisy place (lots of people talking) has sent me into sensory overload before I think? I got really angry, haha.

My hobbies are daydreaming, reading, writing, and listening to music. I like anime (mostly shounen), movies, and books (fantasy, thriller), especially analyzing characters with multiples layers and possible interpretations to their behaviour. I have taken a liking to buying clothes and crochet items, and plan to expand my collection of angry things in my room (I have two angry plushies and one judgmental cat bag). I also like sweet things and pretty scenery. :D

I think my giving love languages are quality time and physical touch. My receiving love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation. I wouldn't be able to stand a SO that often cuts me off when I'm trying to talk (especially when I would never do that to them), or someone that's only interested in talking about themselves. I would appreciate someone considerate with enough emotional intelligence to deal with my moody self, haha.

I kin Jade, Floyd, Dabi, Itoshi Sae and Shidou Ryusei from blue lock (look these two characters up and you'll find that they have basically nothing in common but it makes sense I swear.)

I speak English, a bit of Mandarin and Malay. I have two siblings. I plan to become a creative writer. :D

Thanks!

Hellooooo so sorry for the late answer I'm running on 3 hours of sleep lmao...also the biggest irony is who your match is 😭 I think you guessed it...

Your twst match is....Trey!

I know I teased you a lot about who it was, with deuce as my second choice but I believe that Trey would balance your personality quite well. He’s patient, understanding, kind and yet knows how to have fun. He’s quite the domestic boyfriend. I also think that appearance wise you two would look so cute! Concerning your RBF, I can see people being confused that the one they have to be wary about is Trey. Despite his appearance he does have a sharp tongue that he will use if he or his friends/lover are being insulted. The reasons I chose him is because he is quite far away from your deal breakers and his interest align with yours.

You said you liked sweet thing? Well…Trey can bake. I believe that you two got closer to each other after he asked you to test out his new recipes and give critique. Trey doesn’t mind you being a true introvert, I think he even selfishly likes it because it makes your relation more special in his eyes. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t encourage you to be more outgoing, no I believe he helps you make more friends. It’s just that he enjoys being the only one who can make you so flustered lol.

You’re one of the few people he can confide in. He feels so comfortable with you, he just can’t help it! His favorite moment of the day is when both of you meet up in his room and watch movies together or talk about books and manga you two are reading (or complaining about your siblings). He loves it when you get comfortable and start talking about your hobbies and analyzing characters with you. When he leaves for vacation back home, he always bring you a new book to read or any trinket he thinks you’d enjoy (and sweets from his family of course). He tries to get into crochet for you and your first anniversary gift is an angry cat he crocheted himself. He also asks Rook about clothes recommendations or accessories for your outfits.

Trey is also emotionally intelligent and can handle any of your moods like a champ. He loves you with all your moodiness and sensibility and if anyone judges you over this he will have a word with them. His favorite thing to do when you get worked up is to hug you and take you to a secluded place where he can help you calm down (and pepper you with kisses. Forehead kisses are his favorites). He is always here to tell you how proud he is and how happy you make him.

In short, a relationship with trey is like having a soulmate. He puts you above him and does his best to make you happy. The only problem is that, despite being comfortable with you, he still bottles up his real thoughts if he thinks it makes you happy (like we saw with riddle). Your runner up is silver.

[slasher-smasher]

Cassidy Bishops Info Sheet

Thank you @sehtoast for letting me use the outline for the sheet! I didn't use all the questions.

Cassidy Bishop

Link to google doc of more detailed version

Face claim: Alexandra Daddario

Age

Looks 37 (real age is 117, I tried making her age accurate so that she was in her late 30s in 1943, but the wiki for The Boys is wacky for timelines)

Nationality

British

Current residence

Manhattan (Apartment)

Occupation

Medical Doctor

Talents and skills

Fast Learner, Expert Surgeon, Art Sketching

Parent (describe relationship)

Her father was one of the top geneticist for the British government and worked along with Fredrick Vought when he defected to the Allied Powers. He is a strict man that loves his country and Queen (rip) to the extent that he would sacrifice his only daughter in the name of science and the benefit to Britain.

Significant others (describe relationship)

Ian Quinn - Journalist that covers wars and corruption. He met Cassidy when she moved back to England after she left Vought and tried to move on from her past.

Homelander/John- It's complicated. He is obsessed with her. She tries to keep him at arms length as just friends.

Relationship skills

Empathy, Patience

Height

5'8"

Weight

140lbs

Hair color

Brown with blonde highlights

Eye color

Lavender (Light Blue before Compound V)

Glasses or contact lenses?

Wears blue contacts when at work.

Skin color

Pale

Dress style

Casual mostly, but wears blouses and dress pants when at the hospital

Mannerisms

Even though she is a 117 year old doctor that has been through some shit, she is socially awkward when it comes to social situations.

Hobbies

Sketching, reading medical journals, listening to music while at the park, baking.

Favorite sayings/quote

"I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious." - Albert Einstein

Style

Comfortable

Greatest flaw

Her empathy. She allows people Homelander to manipulate her when she feels guilty.

Best quality

Kindness, strong ethics

Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert

Educational background

Many many MD degrees over the years and masters in psychology

Mental health

A bit traumatized by her injection of V by Vought and her father.

Short-term goals

Keep up D-grade supe status cover, save lives in the hospital,

Long-term goals

Bring Vought's corruption to light but not willing to join Billy's team and go to his extremes. Have a normal loving relationship, maybe a family.

How emotional is your character?

One would think being through 4 wars she would learn to hide away her feelings but Cassidy wears her heart on her sleeve. She gets super passionate about things.

How logical is your character?

Even though she is emotional her professional ethics are strong and is used during emergencies.

What would most embarrass your character?

She is subconscious about her age. Even though she is basically immortal, she hates the fact that she is twice peoples age. Being in the spot light.

How does the character deal with conflict?

Often uses logic.

How does the character deal with sadness?

Sketches, cuddle times with her Rottweiler.

What does the character want out of life?

A normal non supe life

What would the character like to change in his or her life?

Being a supe. Saving Homelander as a child from the lab.

What motivates this character?

To be opposite of her father. Help heal people without the cost of others.

What frightens this character?

Being taken to be experimented on. Letting people down. Not being able to heal people.

What makes this character happy?

Friends, her dog, baking, lots of tea (no it's not a British joke, I just LOVE tea)

Is the character judgmental of others?

Homelander is mainly the exception due to their history but yes when it comes to people like Stormfront and Vought higher employees in general. She HATES greed and manipulations.

Is the character generous or stingy?

Generous

Is the character generally polite or rude?

Polite but can be sarcastic.

Is religion or spirituality a part of this character’s life?

No.

What is this character’s role in the story?

Protagonist

Describe the scene where this character first appears

Cassidy was a nurse during WW2 that was forced to be injected with compound V. She worked with Solider Boys team for a bit and reluctantly stayed with Vought.

Consider this character’s relationship with other characters.

Homelander- almost motherly when he was a child, cared about him until he started to become more obsessed and sexually attracted to her when he hit his teens which made her leave due to ethical reasons. As an adult, awkward budding friendship with some sexual tension mixed in much later Maeve- acquaintances Starlight- later becomes friends

How does this character change over the course of your story?

She tries to be a moral and ethical person but her feelings towards Homelander that she starts to accept much later makes her bend her code a bit. She knows he is a monster but her guilt prevents her for seeing him as that completely.

Superpowers:

Longevity/ fast regeneration, super strength but she doesn't use it much.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hello! This is my entry for the match-up event:

1. I use she/her pronouns and I am a cis woman. I am also straight both sexually and romantically (I just think men are neat)

2. I would like to be paired up with one of the Papas, please

3. For my physical appearance, I am 5'6, my body type is average I'd say, I'm more flat chested/thinner around my torso and thicker around the thighs and bottom. I have blue eyes, chin length brown hair that's oftentimes up in a ponytail whenever I go out and an undercut. Style wise, I really like wearing vintage/more formal wear, such as blouses with big sleeves (even better when they go higher up the neck), high waisted pants or ankle length big skirts, vests, and some nice dress shoes or boots. I almost always have a necklace and a dangly earring on one ear to go along with my outfits.

4. I'm more on the quiet and introverted side. Especially around people I don't know and haven't met before. I can tend to be socially awkward at times. It takes a bit of time to warm up to and really express myself around others. Once I am comfortable around someone though, I love spending time with them. I like being kind and generous to others and I am very loyal to those that I am close to. I like to see my friends happy and to make them laugh and I'll easily do anything for them if they ask.

5. For hobbies, I am big on music. I am passionate about the bands/artists I listen to and I love to share music with others. Genre wise I like rock from all different decades and funky indie music, though I listen to all sorts of different genres. I also like to create traditional art, and the mediums I use are pencil, fine line pens, and I'm now starting to get into watercolor. I like to do more realism type drawings. I like to read a good book every now and then I enjoy playing video games if I have a good enough amount of free time to do so. I also have a few little collections of different things and I'm always on the lookout to add onto them. I also like to watch movies, especially with others so we can make comments on what we're watching.

6. I have a big sweet tooth, especially when it comes to fruit juices/smoothies and ice cream. My love languages are quality time and physical touch (I am a bit touch starved, unfortunately). I'm not the best gift giver, but I really like to create or handmake something for people as a gift. I tend to get stressed and anxious too easily and overthink and it's something I'm trying to work on. I also really like uncommon pets, it's so cool to get to interact with animals I don't see all that often in person.

Thank you so much! (Apologies if it's a little long)

This post is part of the 1000 followers match up event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your match is...Papa Emeritus IV

The first things Copia noticed about you was your blue eyes, shining bright like the Morning Star and how your smile would make his heart flutter. You’d only met a few times briefly, but during those times you’d both talked about movies and video games.

That evening you strolled through the cloisters on the way to get food, your breath hanging heavy in the crisp winter air. You paused to look through the arches onto the lawn and then up. The dark night sky glimmered with small pin pricks of light, the sheer depth of it entranced you.

“Beautiful isn’t it cara… it would be easy to just look at it all night sì?” You looked accross to see Papa Emeritus IV, he looked stunning in his glittery red jacket. He had his Papal paints on and you just stuttered some kind of response. He gave you the warmest smile you’d ever seen. “I err” he added, then he too fell silent.

A small little nervous rat noise escaped him before he said “It’s okay, I am err how should I say, not the best in social situations either. But I’ve been meaning to ask… would you like to come with me to get some food? A date perhaps?” His shifts a little waiting for your response. You happily agree and he smiles broadly.

You can relax around him, despite him being Papa you can see the man underneath it all and he is very easy to get on with. He makes you a mixtape of his favourite music and when you do the same for him he gets very excited. He’ll play it when you aren’t around and he misses you, mainly when he is stuck at work.

He adores your art, he finds it interesting to watch how you go from a blank page to the finished work. He asks if you can draw him and his rats, that becomes slightly tricky as even his favourite rat won’t sit still.

He understands what it’s like to get stressed and anxious. He’ll do anything he can to support you with that and he’s really easy to talk to about it. If he sees you getting anxious, if it helps you, he’ll wrap his arms around you and hold you close. “I’m here for you cara” he’ll kiss the top of your head. “Just tell me what I can do to help and I will”

You spend evenings together snuggled on the sofa playing video games or watching movies. When it’s a movie night Copia will sneak into the Ministry kitchens and take the largest and nicest tub of ice cream he can find back to his rooms for you two to share.

~

Written by Nyx

[backlinkfashioncat]

Types of sarees best for thin ladies

In today's era everyone is running one extra mile on that treadmill to get a leaner body. No No its not for the health only to post pictures on social media.

A perfect body is a boon for a person. specially for ladies. Everybody knows how cranky a woman gets when you call her fat. It is bad only when its on the wrong place and if your body has the right fat this can make you look really attractive.

The either way to look attractive is to wear right piece of clothing. I read an article by Shaanii on types of sarees which made me learn so much about different kinds of sarees.

Thin ladies should wear sarees of thick fabrics like tussar, heavy quality georgette, kota cotton and should avoid chiffon or any thin fabric. Bold colors, big motifs, broad borders, halter neck or backless blouses, bold makeup, unique jewellery, etc should be considered while styling their outfits which avoids their imperfections.

I am sharing some pictures of famous actresses from small and big screen with lean bodies who styled their outfits so smartly.

Deepika padukone wearing black & bold saree and bold eye make-up.

2. Hina khan styled her outfit with a halter neckline and beautiful piece of jewellery.

3. Shilpa shetty again wearing black big motifs saree and styled it uniquely.

[wexhappyxfew]

hi! for the character ask game: yvette st. clair with stillness, road and hair! i absolutely adore her aesthetic board so i had to pop in and learn more about her

omg hello!!! thank you for stopping on by the ask box! :) i appreciate it! YVETTE!!!! yvette my beloved!! thank you so much for asking about her, she's definitely an intriguing character i've been giving a lot of thought to recently! awe thanks :) her aesthetic is a *favorite* of mine, mixed with her general vibes and her plotline just *chef's kiss* truly. so thank you!!

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

Yvette St. Clair is one word. Paranoid. She constantly lives in a state of paranoia no matter what. And this leads to constant fidgeting. Whether it's twirling the end of her hair around and around, bouncing her leg up and down when sitting, or rubbing her fingertips together nervously in her lap, she's definitely a fidgeter. Yvette can never really sit still. That's her thing. And to sit still it takes her a lot. A little while ago, she used to be a Maquis fighter, poised, controlled, focused. Now, she's anxious, nervous, fidgety, paranoid. She's everywhere in her head and out. The only time she's ever at rest is when she sleeps and even then, she's a light sleeper, so the slightest noise, she's up and aiming at the threat. Why all this has occurred to her comes into play with her extensive history and backstory.

road: What does your OC wear while traveling? Do they have high-quality equipment, or are they making do? What does their gear look like?

Yvette still adorns her Maquis uniform, though, she's switched out a few parts of it for more comfortable and fitting clothing. Being on the run, she had to hide parts of herself and her clothing in order to keep herself safe. She has a navy beret that she keeps in a back pocket, but she also wears her Maquis uniform. In actuality, it's not much of a uniform, more civilian clothes that she's altered to work for a semi-uniform. This includes a dark gray skirt just past her knees, her utility belt around her waist that carries a multitude of necessities that could be important, a thick, cream-colored blouse that cuffs at the shoulders and has golden buttons down the front, with a canvas button-up overtop from a close friend that she lost. Her shoes are boots she scrounged during the invasion, though a size too large, she wears heavy-knitted socks year around. She also is a huge fan of fingerless gloves and watches. She never goes anywhere without either. She's found a way to be incredibly efficient in the clothing, for years on end by now, and finds comfort in her clothing from home, especially in knowing there is no home for her to go back to, ever.

hair: How does your OC wear their hair? Does it have some kind of meaning?

Yvette never wears her hair in any consistent way. It's light blonde though, somewhat long, she usually likes to keep it cut just past her shoulders. However, the hairstyle, especially during the war that it falls into more often than not, is two braids. It works best. It's kept out of her face, it never gets super tangled that way and it reminds her of when her mother would do her hair all through school from youth to her teenage years. Plus, she loves how it looks when she has the beret on! She is a stylist at heart! <3

thank you so much for sending these, i genuinely had so much fun doing these (especially yvette, i love her sm)!!

if anyone else is interested in sending things in, you can go to this tag game and the and then the dawn came tag to look at OCs in the fic if you want to send more specific ones other than Esther or Mercy! :) thank you again AH! this was fun!! :D