#formal tee shirts

[overseaseller]

Iconic India Anime formal themed mens print tee-shirts

Anime and formal themed tee shirts brands for men or anime lovers would you like to buy printed collective t-shirs lots of variety in t-shirts

[thirteens-earring]

going to need to be business casual 5 days a week very soon and literally all I wear is band tees send help

[stagnant-stale]

stale pookieeee! 💛 do you have an outfit you like to wear that makes you feel badass?

YOOOO!!! Im a cartoon character who wears the same t-shirt and baggy pants, but I do feel very cool whenever I wear my chunky work boots and varsity jacket

[doriandrifting]

What level of irony is it that t-shirts got banned at my job because one of my coworkers wore a hellfire shirt and my boss thought it was something satanic?

[necesitotequila]

Out for dinner rn. I just saw a guy who I would’ve thought was cute had it not been for his egregious sartorial choices. 🥲

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOOD GIRL || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), insecure reader, soft!Joel, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, belly bulge, use of a morning after pill, slight Professor kink, power imbalance. Joel can pick up reader, reader has hair. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 7,9k

A/n: this is for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge. Big thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. Hope you all will enjoy it💖

MASTERLIST

You are rushing along an empty suburban street caught in a warm summer rain. Soaked strands of hair are sticking to your face and you brush them off, feeling your clothes getting wet too. Drops of water are trickling down your naked thighs as your skirt rides up and your shoes squelch with every hurried step.

The rain isn’t too heavy and you might have enjoyed it some other time but not now, not when you’re running late for your lesson at Professor Miller’s house. You could have waited it out under a tree but by the look of it, the pouring won’t stop soon.

You didn’t want to make Professor Miller wait. He is already doing you a huge favor, tutoring you a few hours a week in preparation for another year at college.

You decided to switch majors and, being a good friend of your mother, Professor Miller agreed to help you so you could catch up on what you had missed and get more confident in the new field.

Frankly you wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been running circles in your room, trying to decide what to wear. Of course, you had a crush on Professor Miller. He was handsome, intelligent, nice and much older than you. But you’d never act on it because you couldn’t even imagine him looking at you like that. So you weren’t choosing anything to attract him that day. All you wanted was to look nice. You always wore formal clothing out of respect for him. One time you put on a band tee and a pair of ripped jeans for your lesson and felt terribly out of place next to the perfect Professor Miller. After that you swore to yourself to look presentable at his lessons.

You’re looking very far from presentable when Professor Miller opens the door to you now. Yet there’s not a trace of displeasure in his warm gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked!” he exclaims, eyes widened behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Forgot my umbrella, so sorry,” you mumble, stepping inside. You take off your wet shoes and put on the slippers you always wear in his house. Seeing that you’re dripping water on the floor, you silently curse.

As a striking contrast to you Professor Miller looks impeccable. Beautiful dark curls are combed back, a black sweater over a white dress shirt and black slacks make him look like he’s on a red carpet rather than in a suburban house on a Saturday.

He rushes away, mumbling something about towels, and you peek into the hall mirror to check the damage.

What you see makes you want to jump out of the window - your mascara is running, the hair’s wet and disheveled but what makes your heart drop to your stomach is your white blouse, soaked, stuck to your torso and completely see-through. Your chest is fully exposed except for your white lacy bra which isn’t much help either as you can definitely see your nipples.

Your hands dart to cover yourself but you don’t want to attract more attention to it, so you try to cross your arms over your breasts as casually as possible.

“Here.” You jerk, hearing Professor Miller’s beautiful voice and take a towel from him with a quiet ‘thank you.’

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask, hugging the towel close to your chest.

“Of course, take your time. Join me in the office when you’re ready.”

You love Professor Miller’s guest bathroom. All of his house actually. It’s always neat and feels warm and cozy. Every piece of furniture seems thought through, the colors are rich but calming and you often find yourself wishing to stay here longer.

You clean your face up and dry yourself as well as you can. Your hair is still damp, but the skirt is not that wet. On the other hand your blouse still makes you wanna cry. At some point you contemplate asking Professor Miller for a spare shirt but this seems very inappropriate.

So you take a deep breath and decide that you can cover your almost exposed breasts with a book or something else.

You walk to the office and hastily join Professor Miller at his desk. A cup of hot tea is waiting for you next to a stack of books.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says, patting the chair next to him and you plop down awkwardly, trying to hide your indecency. “Drink this. It’ll help you to get warm.” His gaze slides over you fast, not sticking to anything in particular, and you ease up a little.

He starts the lesson by checking your homework and explains your mistakes. You nod but hardly listen to him. So close to Professor Miller you feel disappointed in yourself, looking like an idiot who forgets to check the weather before leaving the house.

A light breeze hits your back and you shiver.

“Oh, I’ll close the window.” Professor Miller rushes to stand up, but you stop him with a hand on his arm. As if electrified by the feeling of his firm muscles under your touch, you dart your hand back, as your cheeks burn and you say,

“It’s ok. I love the sound of rain.”

“But you must be cold? Here, take my cardigan.” You object but he doesn’t listen, grabbing it off his chair and putting it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, wrapping yourself in it as his scent envelops you. He smells of vanilla and cardamom and you can’t help but take a deep breath of him. He smiles, but you don’t notice it.

A couple of times during the lesson Professor Miller seems to lose his train of thought and you blame your look for it. He must be thinking that you look like a stray wet dog and your mood gets worse.

When he stands up to get a book from his home library you use the pause to apologize,

“I’m sorry again for looking like this. I should have waited the rain out but I was running late.”

He turns to you, standing at the wall full of books, and shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face,

“What are you talking about? You look great.”

“Ehm…I doubt it. I bet I’ve left a puddle in your hall like a wet dog.”

He chuckles, then grabs the necessary book and returns to the desk. He sits down and turns slightly towards you. His knee touches your naked thigh and you press your legs together, feeling the tingling between them. With a new wave of embarrassment overtaking you, you close the cardigan over your chest. He doesn’t look down but instead searches for your eyes.

“You look amazing, sweetheart, you always do. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It’s just rain.”

The sun peeks through the clouds for a second, and when its golden rays fill the room, you notice how beautifully Professor Miller’s eyes sparkle behind the glasses when the light shines on them. It takes your breath away and you lower your gaze with a smile. His praise makes you feel warm and fuzzy and your heart sings at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” Your quiet words are barely audible because of the sound of the rain outside.

Professor Miller takes a deep sigh. “Sometimes when I look at you…I wish I was younger.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look up at him and stumble, “W- what… why? Really? Why?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my back wouldn’t give me so much grief.”

You’re nodding with a fake smile, disappointed by his answer. He’d never look at you this way, in a different way. He’s perfect and you’re …well, you. He interrupts your self-deprecation saying softly, “Sweetheart, you worry too much. You, young people, don't understand how lucky you are. You have the whole life ahead of you, you’re free of regrets, sorrows. And the youth passes so quickly.”

You’re staring at him now, lips half parted, and then suddenly blurt out, “I am afraid. Almost all the time.”

“Of what? Why?” He asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t know. Of… everything.”

You turn slightly to him on the chair but quickly avert your gaze and stare back at the open window. The thrumming of the rain outside makes it easier to talk, as if it is accompanying your words.

“I’m afraid of my future. How wonderful it can be or how unhappy I might become. I study hard thinking …wishing the result will give me happiness but what if it doesn’t. I worry about my future career, but I’m not even sure I want it. I.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You feel wetness coating your eyes and glance at him. He’s looking at you with intent, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

You sniff, turning back to the desk, and stare at your fingers fumbling with the corner of Professor Miller’s cardigan.

“Sweetheart, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Your head whips up and you gawk at him with widened eyes. You’ve never heard him swear and never thought you ever would. He smiles, as if finding your reaction amusing.

“I might look all put together but I’m just like you. Scared, unsure… hell, we all are. No matter the age, I doubt it ever goes away,” he says placing his heavy hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “But you can try to focus on the present, enjoy the moment, enjoy yourself.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him chuckle bitterly, “My intent was to help but it seems like I’ve done the opposite.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you telling me this but I doubt I can do that.“

He watches you for a few moments and suddenly his face lights up and a charming lopsided smile twists his lips. You almost giggle at how mischievous and joyful he looks.

“I know what we should do.” He gets up and offers you his hand.

You look up at him confused but so much joy is radiating from him, you can’t say ‘no’. You take his hand and your whole body vibrates with skin on skin contact. You’re overwhelmed by his and your confession, by the unexpected turn your lesson took, and your heart is fluttering in your chest.

You follow him to the living room, your hand in his, and come up to the French windows which lead to the back yard. He lets go of your hand and you fix his cardigan that’s slipping off your shoulders.

Professor Miller opens the windows and a flow of humid slightly cold air rushes into the room and you wrap the cardigan tighter around your torso. The rain got heavier and you see little puddles on the patio.

He turns to you and says, louder than usual, so you could hear through the drumming of the shower.

“You know what I want to do now? What will make me happier?”

He starts walking backwards out to the wet patio and you open your mouth and giggle,

“Oh my god, Professor! What are you doing?”

He shoots you a wink and steps under the heavy rain. Then he tilts his head up, closing his eyes and exposing his face to the drops, falling from the sky.

“Please, come back inside!” You walk up to him, still standing under the cover of the roof. You place your hand on his shoulder and grab him lightly. “Come back inside, you’ll get cold. I’m not sad anymore, I promise.”

Just a few moments under the downpour are enough to drench him and when he looks at you, his glasses are all wet, curls are stuck to his forehead, his sweater is soaked.

“Do you like walking in the rain, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes yeah, I guess, but…”

“Great!”

With that, he grabs your hand on his shoulder and pulls you out onto the wet grass. You gasp, feeling the rain drops on your face and body again, your clothes and slippers getting wet slowly but surely. You try to get back inside but he quickly closes the windows and stands in front of you, not letting you through.

“Come on, sweetheart, enjoy this summer rain with me.”

“I will but maybe inside the house?” you plead, trying to cover your head with your hands.

“And where's the fun in that? C’mon,” he returns your pleading gaze with his own, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Let’s enjoy the moment. Do what you want. Don’t worry about the future. Live now.”

His hands leave your shoulders and he steps up closer, making you walk further from the cover of his house. Watching him prowl towards you like that, with a charming smile, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, sends a surge of arousal through your core and you feel yourself getting wet not only from the rain. You stop and he does too, an arm length from you.

You two are standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling at each other, while the heavy rain is soaking your clothes, drawing wet paths down your faces.

You follow his lead from a few moments ago, looking up and closing your eyes. You feel the drops caressing your skin, kissing your eyelids, nose, lips and then sliding down your neck. For a moment you let go of your fears and hopes that weigh on you rather than motivate you and just feel, taking a deep breath.

When you open your eyes a few moments later, there’s something different about the way Professor Miller is looking at you. His cheer is gone and he’s serious again but not in his usual ‘I’m a professor’ way. His gaze is focused on you, dark eyes tracing your features with quiet hunger.

“What would you like to do right now?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. The answer comes to you like lightning and you act on it immediately.

You take a step, reach up and kiss him. It’s just a peck but you stay there for a few seconds pressing your wet lips to his.

He breathes in sharply against your mouth and the realization of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train. You part from him and step back, your eyes filled with terror.

You’re staring at each other for a few long moments, only the sound of rain and your pounding heartbeat breaking the silence. You open your mouth to dump all possible apologies on your tutor but you have no time to do it because in the next moment Professor Miller kisses you.

One hand on your neck, the other on your arm he’s kissing you, keeping you close, but not grabbing you. You can stop it any second. You don’t. You revel in the feeling of his lips gently caressing yours. They taste like rain. His thumb is sliding along your jaw and your pussy aches with need. You’re cold from the rain but burning up inside for him at the same time. A shiver runs through your body and his lips leave yours.

“Let’s go back inside. You are freezing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You curse your body for interrupting the most beautiful moment of your life but follow him when he takes your hand in his and leads you back into the house.

You’re dripping on his carpet in the living room until Professor Miller brings towels and you dry yourselves. He takes off his sweater and you swallow loudly when he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt exposing his big forearms. His tousled wet curls take your breath away. One curl falls on his forehead and your heart hurts from how handsome he looks. He places his glasses on the coffee table and asks you,

“Would you like to change? I can give you my shirt. Or find something of Sarah.”

After discarding his soaked cardigan, you look down and see your sheer wet blouse sticking to your breasts but you don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed any more. You shake your head, wanting him to see you, all of you. The realization makes you gush and your pussy tingles, making you press your thighs together.

“God, you’re shivering, you can get sick,” he fusses over you and he’s right, you’re trembling all over, but not only because of the rain-drenched clothes. Your whole world is upside down. You shoved your crush on Professor Miller into the furthest corner of your heart, being scared of it. You were always good at limiting and controlling yourself, at making yourself feel less, not acting on your desires.

Until today.

Shaking legs bring you to the sofa and you sit down. He takes a blanket from the side of it and wraps you in it, rubbing your arms and back over the material, trying to warm you up.

He’s so close to you. You stare at his wet face, lashes stuck together, lips shining with the rain or your saliva or both.

It feels like a dream that you don’t want to end. His hands leave you and you look at each other. His gaze slides down to your lips and your heart flutters. You wonder if you have enough courage to kiss him again.

Suddenly you hear a loud thunder and jump in your seat. You look around and it’s like you finally woke up. Your heart freezes at the thought, ‘You kissed Professor Miller! You kissed your fucking tutor! Your mom’s friend! Fuck!’

Your head whips back to him. “I’m so sorry,” you mumble, trying not to burst into tears, your throat getting squeezed with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know why I’ve done it. I must have lost my mind. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking pity on me, Professor.”

His hand darts to your shoulder but he swiftly puts it away.

“First of all, call me Joel, please …and what do you mean by pity? I didn’t take pity on you. I acted inappropriately but… I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

You drop your head and murmur under your breath, “A complete mess?”

He sighs and takes your hand in his. His big warm palm engulfs it completely and you look up at him, not being able to contain yourself anymore, as tears well up in your eyes. His voice is warm and soft and so pleasant you wish he’d never stop talking.

“You’re a wonderful young woman. Intelligent, kind, capable of anything you’ll set your mind to. Your future is bright, I'm sure of it.”

You smile and tears roll down your cheeks.

“And you’re very beautiful. I hope someone tells you this.”

You sniff, eyes downcast, and shake your head, making your tears fall. Joel gently takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up so you would look at him. His face is blurry with all the wetness in your eyes. He cups your cheek and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Well, then let me do it. You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

Your heart stops. At least you think so because what you’re hearing can not be real. You died and went to heaven otherwise it’s unbelievable that Professor Miller… Joel is telling you this.

You’re gawking at him and he chuckles before taking his hand away.

“I love that I can see all your emotions on your face.”

You hastily close your mouth and try to collect yourself while a whirlwind of feelings swirls in your stomach.

“And I don’t regret kissing you.”

You search his face for a sign of a joke, but find none. He looks and sounds serious and you feel yourself lean closer to him.

“Me neither, Joel,” you whisper, his name sweet on your tongue, and lean forward a little. It takes him a second to meet you halfway and kiss you. He takes the lead and moves his lips slowly and gently against yours but you feel that he’s holding himself down by the way he breathes, the way his lips move faster and with more vigor until he stops himself. You feel hot wrapped in the warm blanket so still glued to him you unwrap yourself and it pools at your feet.

“You’ll get cold,” he mumbles against your lips and you shake your head no, still kissing him. You don’t want it to end so you desperately cling to him with only your lips touching.

Another thunder shakes the house and you feel his hand on your naked knee. You part your legs and scoot closer to him and his thumb brushes your inner thigh. Your whole body erupts with chills.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as his lips leave yours, “Your legs are ice cold.” He puts his hands on your arms, “And you’re still shivering, poor thing.”

You’re about to explain that it’s not because of the rain or wet clothes, at least not only. It’s him, his plush lips on yours, his warm hands gliding over your skin, his eyes looking at you so differently from what you’re used to. All of it makes every cell in your body vibrate, your stomach churn, your core burn with arousal.

But before you can tell him all that, he says something that makes you stop in your tracks, “Would you like to take a bath?”

For the hundredth time today you’re staring at him with your mouth agape.

“H-here? In your house?” you stumble, blinking at him.

“Yes. There's a nice tub upstairs in my bedroom.” He hears himself and hastily adds, “It’s not like that. Ehm… You can take it and I’ll wait for you here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick because of my carelessness.”

His beautiful brown eyes are pleading you to agree. You don’t want to leave him but your sodden cold clothes make the offer of a hot bath sound better with every second.

So you nod and he beams at you. In a second he’s walking upstairs and you’re trailing behind him, your hand in his. He leads you to his bedroom and you quickly look around, seeing that it’s perfect like the rest of his house, simple but cozy. You follow him to the en-suite bathroom and he starts the water. He explains to you how to make it colder and hotter like you’ve never seen a bathtub before but you don’t get offended or annoyed. He’s nervous, it’s visible and it makes you jittery too. Suddenly the idea of being alone without him makes you sad and your heart aches.

The tub fills up fast and while he’s telling you about the bath salts and towels you interrupt him,

“Can you stay?”

Now it’s his turn to gawk at you.

“When…until it’s full?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, when I take it. Can you stay with me?”

He swallows loudly and takes a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve crossed so many lines today. I’m not sure I can cross this one.”

“You told me to do what I want right? And I want you to stay with me, Joel,” you say louder, trying to feign confidence, before taking a step to him.

“Are you sure?”

You look deep into his eyes, so close that you can see your own reflection in them and reply,

“I'm not sure about anything in my life… but I'm sure that I want this,” you say, drawing an invisible line between your hearts with your finger, and add, “Really badly.”

His dark eyes are darting between yours as if he’s looking for a trace of doubt in them. He won’t find any. He’s reading your features and they probably tell him something because in the next moment he slowly leans to you. The kiss is soft but the more you taste him the more confident you get.

So you press your body to his and he groans when your lower belly touches his bulge. Your heart and pussy flutter when you realize how big and stiff he is. Is it because of you? A part of you can’t believe a man like him can be interested in you but his body can’t lie.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling away but, in an attempt to interrupt something you don’t want to hear, you raise your hands and start unbuttoning your wet blouse.

Joel’s eyes are glued to your fingers, working their way up your top. Soon your belly is revealed, then sternum and your breasts, covered by the bra. You slide the blouse off your body and it pools at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispers, as his hand slowly lifts to your breast and he brushes your nipple through the thin lace of the bra with his thumb. It’s already perked up from all the kissing and the cold and you whimper, your body vibrating with desire at the slightest touch of his big hand.

You get impatient and take your skirt off too. You’re standing in front of him wearing nothing but a lace white set and Joel growls like a hungry wolf. You bite your lip, hearing the sound of his desire for you.

His gaze slides from your face to your breasts, belly, hips, legs and up to your face again. He seems to make a decision because soon he starts unbuttoning his shirt too.

“I’m going to hell,” he mumbles as the expanse of his chest is revealed to you and you salivate seeing his golden skin, soft belly, happy trail that leads down. Your clit twitches when he unzips his pants.

Soon his clothes join yours on the floor and he places his hands on your waist. You try not to look at the huge tent in his boxers but fail miserably. He smiles and pulls you into his arms and you hug his middle. He’s big and hot against your cold skin and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

“Still shivering, poor thing, let’s get you into the hot water,” he whispers and his hands slide to your back. He searches for your eyes and after you look up and nod, he unclasps your bra and takes it off you.

His chest is heaving when his gaze moves down to your naked breasts but he doesn’t stop stripping you. With his fingers hooked in your panties, he waits for your permission and then slides them down. They fall on the floor around your feet and you step out of them.

His eyes are completely obsidian now and his hands dart to you but he stops himself.

“Could you help me?” You ask and turn around before offering him your hand. He takes it and you step into the full tub. The water feels scolding hot at first but all your senses are focused on Joel and you lower yourself into the hot water. Sitting in the middle of the tub you look at his bulge, which is at your eye level now.

“Join me, please,” you plead and he mumbles soft “yeah,” before pulling his boxers down. His cock springs free and your pussy buzzes with anticipation and fear because he’s really big and thick.

Joel gets in the water behind you, his legs bent at the knees by your sides. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to lie down against his chest.

You rest your back on his warm broad chest and he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his cock twitch against your lower back and a quiet whimper escapes your lips, “Joel.”

He almost purrs hearing how you said his name. You feel his heart beating hard at your back. His body, so big and strong, envelops you, warms you up better than the hot water around you and you feel like it’s where you belong, in his arms, reveling in his warmth, his softness, ready to give him anything he’d wish for.

The ache in your pussy gets harder to ignore and you squirm between his legs. He takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips against your butt. You feel his lips at your temple as he plants a kiss there.

“You’re so hot,” he praises you as his hands slide up your body and he cups your breasts. He palms your pebbled nipples and you moan, pressing your thighs together.

Then you tilt your head to the side and back and look up at Joel. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes blown, and he lowers his head and catches your lips with his. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared before. Craving, impatience in every stroke of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, and you drown in pleasure of his caress.

Suddenly it’s not enough for the both of you. Without saying a word to each other you sit up and turn around while he helps you shift in the tub with his hands on your waist. You’re facing him now, standing on your knees, and he takes in your wet naked body before whispering,

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You breathe out a soft ‘ok’ and in a second he lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the tub in the corner. You lean your back against the cold tile wall and shiver. Joel notices your reaction and starts pouring the water over you so you’d warm up again.

When you say that you’re not cold, he stands on his knees in front of you, his hands planted on the edge of the tub by your sides. He cages you in between his broad torso and the wall and your pussy pulsates for him.

“Could you spread your legs for me, please?” he says, sitting down on his heels, as his chest is pressed to your knees.

You slowly do what he asked and your pussy blooms for him, folds opening up to his view and Joel’s breath hitches and he llicks his lips at the sight.

“Oh, my,” he mumbles and glances up at you, "You have the most gorgeous pussy, sweetheart." That word on his lips sends a fiery wave through every inch of your body and you whimper, when he moves into the space between your legs, spreading your thighs wider with his broad torso.

His plush lips parted, eyes blown and restless, he takes you in - his gaze hastily runs over your face, breast, belly, cunt as if he can't get enough of you. He reaches for your face and kisses you deeply and passionately. His hand brushes against your aching pussy and you moan.

"My sweet girl," he whispers against the corner of your mouth and his soft lips move down to your neck, collar bone, chest. He's swirling his tongue over your nipple, his hand kneading your breast while you are running your fingers through his damp curls.

Soon he gets to your pussy and when his hot lips touch you there you almost come against his mouth.

“You’re sweet all over, honey,” he mumbles against your twitching clit, hunching down. Then he grabs your ankle in the water and lifts your leg.

“Put your foot on the edge, yeah, like that, good girl.” You’re completely exposed to him now but your desire shuts all your insecurities and you ache to show him every inch of you without any shame.

Soon you’re moaning and writhing on the edge of the tub as his tongue is dancing over your clit before his lips close around it and he gently sucks on the bud, keeping your folds spread with his thick fingers.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your life and he approvingly hums against your pussy, when you whisper his name again and again, alternating it with whimpers and soft ‘yeah’s’.

“Damn, I can come just from hearing you, honey. What are you doing to me?” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes glistening. He looks completely pussy-drunk and it must be taking everything from him not to spill his seed into the bath water right now.

You give him a little apologetic smile and he continues pleasuring you. Joel’s caresses are slow and gentle, he’s almost edging you but when you start moving your hips, searching for more friction, he reads your signal immediately.

“Need more, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly and with his hands on your inner thighs he starts devouring your pussy, his growls full of lust. The flat of his tongue is rubbing against your clit, then the warm muscle plunges into your crying hole as his nose nudges your clit and soon you’re screaming, shaking with the hardest climax of your life.

Joel laps at your juices, generously dripping into his greedy mouth as you’re digging your fingers into his broad shoulders, clenching around his tongue when he slides it inside you.

“Yeah… like that. Oh, my good girl,” Joel mumbles, his words muffled by your pussy.

When your climax dissipates, you rest your head back against the wall and he stays between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. His palms glide up and down your legs as you’re catching your breath.

When you look down, your eyes well up with tears when you see this big, gorgeous, intelligent, hot man on his knees in front of you. A voice inside your head reminds you that he’s much older, your parents will kill you, you’re fucked. But you push all your fears away when he gently helps you get back in the water and sets you on his lap.

Straddling him, you look into his eyes. You’re feeling a myriad of emotions but the brightest one makes your heart sing - you finally feel like yourself, confident, free, happy.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, grateful for the pleasure but also for the self assurance he gave you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He returns your smile with the warmest grin and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you. His big arms envelop your torso as you melt against his chest.

His cock twitches between your bodies and the fire in your core ignites with a new force.

“I want you inside,” you whisper, nuzzling his neck.

“Oh, darling… I wish for nothing more but … I’m afraid to hurt you.”

You sit up straight and drop your gaze into the water. His cock looks painfully hard and huge and you take a sharp breath, imagining it piercing you.

“I wanna try,” you say with confidence.

He searches for any doubt in your eyes again and then nods. Joel helps you to stand on your knees in the bath, holding you steady with his hand on your hip, the other holding his cock at the base.

“Start slowly and if it hurts… stop any second, ok?”

You agree, positioning yourself right above his waiting cock and begin lowering your hips.

You feel his hot tip bump into your clit and, feeling a burst of pleasure, you grind against it a few times. You both moan at the sensation and Joel tightens his grip on your body.

His handsome face twisted in pleasure might be the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You don’t tear your eyes off him, wishing the image got sealed in your memory forever.

You shift a little, nudge your hole with his fat head and start sinking on his throbbing member.

He’s big. Really big.

You widen your eyes as his length parts your folds and slides inside you, surprisingly easily thanks to your recent orgasm.

Joel leans back against the tub and watches your pussy swallow him in the water, his brows furrowed, half-lidded eyes set on the place where you two are slowly joining.

You lower yourself further as your walls spread, trying to accommodate his member inside you. It hurts a little but you’re so aroused you hardly notice it.

Joel moans when you’re finally flush with him, his cock filling your wet heat perfectly.

“Fuck, ohhh, fuck… I’m sorry for all the cursing, honey, but your pussy feels fucking incredible.”

You smile at the praise and clench around him making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

You shake your head, but hastily add ‘no’, realizing he can’t see you.

“I’ve had a boyfriend. But he dumped me pretty quickly.”

He looks at you, brows furrowed, as he hears a slight sadness in your voice.

“His loss, sweetheart,” he says, gently taking your neck between his palms.

His gaze slides down your body to your pussy.

“Hnggg, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry. “

“What? No, it’s .. Gosh, I can’t think straight when you …look like this, wrapped around my cock. I’m in heaven.”

His warm hand rises to your face and he cups your heated cheek. You nuzzle into it smiling against his palm. Then you move your face a little and when you feel his thumb at your lips you part them and take it into your mouth.

His cock throbs deliciously inside you, and he moans as your tongue swirls over his thick finger.

“Oh my god, you naughty thing. You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile around his finger and roll your hips a little. You both almost scream at the sensation. His thumb slips out of your open mouth as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. You seem to feel his cock everywhere. You can’t stop now, not with the way his thick length massages your pussy on the inside, sending bolts of ecstasy through your body.

You start fucking yourself on his stiff cock and you both fill the room with groans and whimpers, adding them to the soft splashing of the tub water.

He tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut while you feel another climax building.

“Oh, Professor,” you moan and he groans, clenching his teeth,

“Don’t.”

“What?” You ask and bite your lip, seeing that he’s deep in the pits of lust just like you are.

“Because I won’t let you stop calling me that,” he groans and your heart sings at the implication of you two doing it again in the future.

Not giving him any respite you breathe out, “It feels so good, Professor,” and start bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans but then holds you down.

“Baby, are you on the pill? I can’t… I’m gonna come soon.”

“No,” you reply through panting and he furrows his brows,

“Shit… not sure I have condoms,” he says, his eyes darting between yours. He clears his throat and adds, “I haven’t been with anyone for …some time now.”

You feel like he wants to apologize and you shut him up with a kiss.

“It’s ok. I’ll get Plan B. I want…want it inside me,” you whisper against his lips and sit up, starting to move again. You roll your hips, feeling your clit rub against his soft belly, and whimpers escape your parted lips again and again.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, watching your body slowly move on him. He’s almost drooling as his palm slides from your neck to your chest, over the swells of your breasts, brushing against your erect nipples, caressing the soft skin of your belly. He dips his hand in the water and presses it to a lump right over your mound and moans,

“Oh, fuck, I can feel my cock right here… do you feel me deep, baby? Tell me.”

“Yes, Professor,”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last, gonna fill you up.”

Looking down, you see it, the bulge in your belly moving up and down, his cock inside you stretching your skin.

With a loud moan, you clench around him and it sends a chain reaction making your pussy vibrate and contract, as another climax starts shaking your body.

“Yeah, baby, just like that… squeeze my fat cock, my good fucking girl.”

Not being able to hold any longer, Joel erupts inside your core, jets of cum spurting against your walls. You feel hot from the water and his heated body and now there’s warmth inside you too, your pussy’s getting filled with him.

You’re fucking yourself on his exploding cock while he’s sucking on your neck, and then he holds you so tight, it gets difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body is screaming with pleasure and you wish this moment never passed, he was inside you forever, holding you close.

When you both feel your climaxes subside, Joel leans back against the wall and pulls you to lie on his chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, plugged by his cock and full of his seed. You breathe in the scent of his skin, your hands on his chest as he rocks you like a big strong wave, slowly breathing in and out. You feel an immense affection towards him, and your throat gets squeezed with upcoming tears. You try to hide them from him but when you sniff he gently cups your cheek and makes you look at him.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking you over with worry in his gaze.

“No, I’m just… I’m just happy. I’m sorry.”

You smile at each other until he takes your face in his big hands and plants kisses on your eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, lips. You giggle when his facial hair tickles your delicate skin and he laughs with you.

Your bodies relaxed, hunger satiated, you stay in the bath for a few more minutes while he’s pouring water with his hands over your shoulders to keep you warm.

When the temperature lowers, he gets out of the tub and brings you a big fluffy towel while you shamelessly watch him move naked and wet around the bathroom. He helps you to get up and you bite your lip when his cock twitches at the sight of your body on display for him. He clears his throat and starts gently drying your skin. The memory takes you back to him drying you in his living room, before you crossed the line with him and you marvel how much changed between now and then.

You feel happy for the first time in a long time but also scared of what happens next. What if he goes back to being just your tutor, what if he doesn’t want to see you at all, what if your parents find out… The thoughts rush through your mind and he reads your face again and asks, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, driving away your fears. Joel wraps you in the towel and you gasp when he lifts you. He laughs, carrying you to his bedroom, and then lowers you gently on the bed.

“Get under the duvet, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and get comfortable in his bed. The sheets smell of him and you can’t help but gush again. He brings your clothes and you sit up reaching for them so you could put them on but he stops you.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you the pill,” he says and makes you lie back down. After getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Joel tucks you in and kisses you gently before leaving.

You hear his car drive off and fall into the comfort of his bed. You close your eyes for a second suddenly feeling tired.

You wake up from soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“I hate to wake you up, honey, but your parents are worried.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes and holding the duvet over your naked breasts. You see the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and take it.

“They called?” You ask, swallowing Plan B.

“Yes, I told them you needed to do some extra exercises.”

You giggle but he looks upset. Your fears come back again.

“You regret it,” you whisper, as your eyes well up with tears.

In a second you’re in his big arms and he whispers against your cheek,

“Never, baby. I don’t. But I can’t help but feel guilty. I should know better. I feel like I’m robbing you of your time. You should be someone young, someone who can give you more.”

You search for his eyes and take his face in your hands.

“No, I don’t want anyone else. I want… I need you.”

You kiss him and pull him to lie over you on the bed. You’re making out holding each other close. The rain has stopped and you can hear birds chirping outside through an open window.

“Fuck.. I need to go,” you whine, parting from Joel and reaching for your clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Language, young lady,” he scolds you with a smirk. You bite your lip and purr with a sultry tone, “Sorry, Professor.”

You love how this word makes him shiver with arousal now.

He adjusts himself, cursing under his breath and his dark eyes are watching you while you’re giving him a little show while putting on your clothes - gliding your hands over your body, slowly slipping into your panties and bra. When you slide your arms into your already dry blouse, he gets up to button it up for you. Soon your lips gravitate towards each other and it takes a lot from you to part from him again.

You go downstairs and Joel offers to drive you home but you politely refuse.

“I’ll walk. I love the smell of the air after rain,” you smile ready to leave, standing at the door, “besides someone told me to enjoy myself more so I’m gonna follow his advice.”

You smile at each other and he gives you a farewell kiss, hugging you, before whispering in your ear, “My sweet girl. Thank you.”

You look deeply into his eyes and ask,

“See you on Thursday?”

“Yes, but you’re going to study.” Your widened sad eyes make him chuckle as he adds, “Among other things.”

You beam at him, peck his lips and walk out of the door, feeling wings behind your back.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! 💖

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @littlemisspascal

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[p-antalons]

going crazy. love my parents but why must they dress the way they do

[nightospheresims]

AxA 2023 Clothing Collection (For The Sims 3)

After many laborious days of sitting hunched over my laptop like a molerat... she's hereee! I converted the clothing ONLY (i'll leave the accessories for another day...), and included all of the belted/non-belted/patterned/graphic/solid variations as well. Not all of the original shirt graphics are included due to the amount of work it was, so I settled on about 6-9 of my favorite swatches each.

Also I just wanted to mention that, like always, the teen versions were giving me trouble so there may be seams on some of the items. If you notice any other issues tho, please mention them to me! This was a lot of stuff to convert so sometimes things slip through the cracks😞

The Leo tee was converted by me previously, so if you already have it make sure to delete it before downloading this!

More info about the items below the cut.

That's all I think... enjoy!

♡  CHANGELOG  ♡

updated 11/09/2024: a few people have said the alek skirt was causing the game to crash. Although I haven't experienced this, I still went ahead and remade the skirt from scratch. The texture looks a bit better this time and no seams are present on the teen version. Please replace!

updated 06/10/2024: there was a bug in which having the merged file in your mods folder would cause crashing when sending sims to university. I've removed the merged options from both this and the axa 2021 collection. please make sure you have the individual packages and not the merged one(s)!

updated 06/02/2024: fixed the multipliers on the layla top and max/sam sweatpants, color should be less blinding now. Please completely delete any of the old files and replace them with the new ones!

♡  DOWNLOAD  ♡

PATREON (FREE)

alt: Mediafire

note: in the .zip you can pick and choose which ones you want or you can download them all in a merged package :)

♡  Support Me (Ko-fi) |All Downloads | TOU  ♡

♡  INFORMATION  ♡

everything is recolorable and has custom thumbnails.

alek skirt

af and tf

everyday, career, outerwear

recolorable with 2 channels (skirt and buttons)

1 preset

jess shorts / oliver shorts

af, tf, am, and tm

everyday and athletic

2 presets: belted and non-belted versions

recolorable with 2 channels (shorts and buttons)

navie jeans / jack jeans

af, tf, am, tm

everyday, career, outerwear

2 presets: belted and non-belted versions

recolorable with 2 channels (pants and buttons)

max sweatpants / sam sweatpants

af, tf, am , tm

everyday, athletic, career

1 preset

recolorable with 3 channels (pants, stripes, and logo)

layla tee

af and tf

everyday, sleepwear, swimwear, athletic

9 presets: 1 solid, 8 graphics

recolorable with 2 channels (shirt and bows)

alex top

af and tf

everyday, formal, career

1 preset

recolorable with 1 channel

lyney jacket / lynette jacket

af, tf, am, and tm

everyday, sleepwear, outerwear

7 presets: 1 corduroy, 6 plaids

recolorable with 2 channels (jacket and top)

vanessa skirt

af and tf

everyday, formal, career, outerwear

2 presets: belted and non-belted

recolorable with 2 channels (skirt and fur)

tiffany top

af and tf

everyday, formal

1 preset

recolorable with 2 channels (top and charm)

trey top

am and tm

everyday, sleep, athletic, career

7 presets: 1 solid, 6 graphics

recolorable with 2 channels (shirt and safety pins)

troye top

am, tm

everyday, athletic, career, outerwear

1 preset

recolorable with 1 channel

elijah pants

am and tm

everyday, athletic, career

1 preset

recolorable with 2 channels (pants and buttons)

leo tee

am and tm

everyday, athletic, sleep, career

14 presets: 13 graphics, 1 solid

recolorable with 1 channel

♡  CREDITS  ♡

this set belongs to aharris00britney! I just converted the clothing to the sims 3 :)

@matchsim @xto3conversionsfinds @pis3update @wanderingsimsfinds

[freakassfemme]

dealer!crush!ellie making you nervous at a party

a/n: sfw drabble that's cliche, not reviewed, and hurriedly scribbled in 20 minutes. lots of 'it's in the eyes'. harry's emerald orbs bore into you esque shit. enjoy

You didn't know why you assumed Ellie wouldn't be at a party like this. It was a frat, and those were always Ellie's best customers. She was their chosen dealer, supplying them with a seemingly-endless amount of weed that had every letter in the Greek alphabet begging her to attend their party that Saturday, not someone else's.

So, you kind of felt stupid when you pranced in behind your friends, already tipsy from pregaming in your ridiculously tight dress and gogo boots and nearly ran face first into her back.

"Oh, shit, fuck -- I'm really sorry," you said, the words uncontrollably tumbling out of your mouth like vomit as you continued, your face still at her shoulder-level until the shock wore off and you finally looked up.

Ellie smirked down at you, leaning against the wall next to her as she held up her cup a little too high up, just above your head, keeping it clear of you.

"Damn, you're a little dangerous there, huh?" She said, raising her eyebrows as her eyes raked over you, ogling your appearance like a piece of candy left out on a platter for her, eat me written so delicately across the expanse of your exposed cleavage.

"Yeah," you giggled out, pushing a piece of hair out of your face. The strobing lights caught on the glistening spit of Ellie's tongue as she licked her lips, taking another sip as her gaze returned unabashedly to your face, still waiting for any leverage she could latch her fangs on to.

After an awkward pause, you cleared your throat.

"So, um, how's business?" You said, trying to make some conversation, but it came out too formal, to standoffish.

You averted your eyes, cringing and mentally cursing yourself, but your cheeks turned pink as you looked right at Ellie's arm, propping herself up against the wall in a way that had her bicep practically bulging out of her tight black tee shirt.

"Business's fine," she murmured against the lip of her cup. "You don't seem the type to really care about that sorta thing, though."

Fuck, you were staring.

You looked back up, blushing even darker when you saw the knowing look in her eyes, her teeth grazing the plump baby pink of her lower lip. Your mind raced as you fidgeted with your hands, trying to come up with anything to play her acknowledgement off in a way that wasn't even more embarrassing, but the words weren't even in your throat, let alone on the tip of your tongue. All your brain was mashing together was a terrified chorus of fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck--

"Relax," she said after a moment, chuckling as she leaned down some to your height. "'M not interrogating you, it's not my business what you do."

"No, you're right," you admitted after a moment, happy with any words coming out of your mouth, even if they admitted how lame you were. "Kinda have my head stuck in different clouds, I guess."

Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes. She held this sort of lazy boredom in her soft smirk and hooded gaze that made you feel plain stupid, like she knew more than you. That she was so high and mighty she couldn't even be bothered to like, fucking stand up straight or give you the time of day. You were surprised she was still even talking to you, let alone that she knew who you were --

"You've heard about me?"

Again, word vomit. It lurched out of you before you could stop it, and out loud it sounded like the same voice you used in your head to narrate your god damn diary. You felt more stupid, and you wished you had your own drink to hide behind.

And jesusfuckingchrist, Ellie full on grinned down at you. She had a strand of hair falling out of the front of her half-up/down/left/right shit thing she's always had going on, the one that made you sometimes wonder if she even knows how to do a real ponytail, and then after that thought you always realized you were staring at the back of her head in the middle of --

"English, right?" She said, tilting her head some. "You sit like, two rows behind me?"

"Yeah, when you show up."

Good god, you should've taken it easier earlier. Who thought multiple rounds of shots was a sane pregame?

Ellie seemed almost surprised at your banter though, and her laugh seemed to stutter a bit as she admitted defeat, putting her hands up in mock surrender. The drink in her hand sloshed a bit as she did so, but she didn't seem to care.

"Damn, you noticed?" She said, almost weirded out for a second, and you could tell. "Do I look good from the back or something?"

It's so embarrassing, and you desperately tried to claw yourself out from the uncomfortableness of it all.

"I mean, yeah, you always look good," you said, attempting to direct the conversation elsewhere, something you could actually work with before you made yourself an excuse to skip class every Tuesday and Thursday morning. She didn't seem very impressed. Maybe you were laying it on too lightly? "Now, too. You look like, really good."

"Really?" She said, a glimmer of something in her eyes seeming to catch on to what you were so pathetically trying to make happen.""S just my usual."

"Your usual is really hot," you said, still fiddling with your hands as you gave her a hopeful smile, trying to really put it on thick.

Her eyebrows raised again, and she set her drink down in the table next to her. Her jaw was sharper than a butcher's knife, and you were trying not to salivate like a freaking dog at her exposed neck when she turned back, grinning.

Yeah, Ellie got your lame ass pick up.

"Yeah, you think so?" she asked, taking a small step forward, like she was testing the waters, unsure if you would match her energy or run away like the scared little fawn you looked like right now. Ellie's smile seemed to only grown bigger, a bit darker even, as she watched you suck in a small breath, your antsy hands dropping to your side.

"Cause, I've always thought you were really hot," she said, much more quietly. Her voice was like velvet, its richness mixing with the adrenaline coursing through your veins like it had been replaced with a warm chocolate, and you melted under her words.

"Yeah?" You asked, sighing almost dreamily below her.

"Yeah," Ellie murmured. "Didn't want to make you uncomfortable, though. Seems like I make you nervous."

She added a small laugh to the end of her sentence, like it was supposed to be a joke. And god, you knew you were a bit ditzy, but you weren't that stupid, so both of you knew how painfully obvious your reactions were.

"Little bit," you whispered, though you didn't mean to. Her strong arm crowding you in, the scent of her cologne (What was that? Cedarwood maybe? Some lavender?) and the way she was almost pushing you back into the wall all seemed to pull the words out of you like a puppet on strings.

"I make you nervous, sweetheart?" Ellie asked, her eyes lighting up at your admission, fueling her ego. She took in a heavy breath, licking over her teeth as she bore fucking holes into your face.

When you couldn't speak again, she shook her head, reaching back for her drink. She took a sip, watching you expectantly, tauntingly, like she thought you'd collapse under the silence any minute. Then, when it really seemed like you might, she leaned in until you backed yourself up fully against the wall, your bare thighs hitting the coldness with a small squeal.

"Here," she mumbled, holding her solo cup to your lips. Her other hand pushed a bit of hair behind your face, caressing your jaw as she tilted the cup for you, letting you stare up at her like she hung the fucking stars in the sky.

"This'll help your nerves."

[thatonebabybat]

Being Masc & Goth

This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:

... And Some Inspiration!

[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]

[artdcnaldson]

Longing for more Art angst in the changeover AU like in Valentine’s Day. Could you possibly do a follow up? Or maybe another angsty, sad, want to rip my hair out and sob, standford!Art x reader?

Rating: T

Word Count: 910

Warnings: Angst, Language, situationship being a situationship

Summary: The week of formal, Art finally lets you know that he’s not going to make it.

A/N: I jumped to write this so fast. Nothing makes me happier than Art and angst in the same sentence :) hope u enjoy this! Set the week of Part 1 of Changeover :)

Art was noticeably quiet as you modeled your formal dress for him. There was something to his expression that made you nervous— his smile seemed a little too sweet, his eyes a little too cold.

It had taken weeks for you to find one you’d liked, but you’d fallen in love at first sight with the one you were wearing. A pretty, Stanford red, just like he liked.

Well, maybe it wasn’t so much that you liked it than you knew he’d like it. And it just made it even more noticeable that he was being quiet.

“What?” You asked softly, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” he said with a half-smile. He reached a hand out to grab yours and tugged you closer so you were slotted between his thighs. “You look really, really beautiful. You know that?”

His hand was warm on your lower back, which was exposed due to the revealing cut of the dress. His thumb rubbed soothing circles there.

It felt like there was another shoe, just out of sight, waiting to drop. Your pulse fluttered with anxiety as you looked at him.

“So you like it?” You asked, toying with the fabric. “I found a matching tie for you— it’s in my closet.”

There it was again. The flicker of guilt, or shame, or something. You pulled away. “Just unzip me.”

He sighed, but did as you said. The second the zipper was down, you walked away, putting as much space between the two of you as the small dorm could allow.

You pulled the dress down and tossed it over the chair of your desk. Kicked off your heels a little too aggressively. They slid beneath the risers of your bed. Didn’t matter, you wouldn’t need them.

“Baby—“

“Don’t.” You said firmly, jaw set with frustration. “When were you going to tell me?”

He didn’t respond. You pulled a tee shirt over your head and crossed your arms. He looked small sitting there, like a bug pinned under a magnifying glass.

“Art. When were you going to tell me that you weren’t going to fucking come? It’s five days until formal. Were you planning on letting me show up alone and look like a total idiot?”

He sighed, standing and crossing the room so he could wrap you in his arms. You stiffened, hoping he would let you go, but he wouldn’t.

“I was going to tell you today,” he said softly. “I swear, but then you brought out the dress, and you looked so excited that I just—“

Hurt squeezed your chest, making it feel hard to breathe or think.

“Patrick’s coming in, and Tashi thought the three of us should go to dinner. After the Pepperdine match, there are going to be team parties, so the only time that works for us would be Saturday night.”

You pulled back, a frown tugging at your lips. “So it’s about Tashi?”

He swallowed, annoyance visible on his features. “It’s not about Tashi.”

You scoffed and shoved him away. You didn’t want to be touching him, or near him, or even close enough to hear him breathing. You were torn between laughing and crying and biting his head off.

“Do you realize just how much you’ve wasted my time?” You asked finally, staring at the blank white board above your roommates bed. You could see Art’s reflection, the way his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. It made you even angrier.

“Genuinely, Art,” you snapped, turning to face him. “You’ve spent this entire fucking semester goading me with the idea that you might grow up and stop pining after your friend’s girlfriend. It’s been a waste of my fucking time.”

Art rolled his eyes. “You’re always making this about Tashi.”

“That’s because for you everything is about Tashi,” you yelled. “You want to be her boyfriend, you want to be the one she talks to about her day, you want everything I’ve given you, but from her. But she doesn’t want you, Art. She wants Patrick, and she’s always going to want Patrick.”

He rolled his eyes, jaw set tight. When he looked at you again, his expression was icy. You felt like you understood the nickname, finally. “You might feel better blaming me for all of the time you think you’ve wasted, but you knew I never wanted a girlfriend. You knew exactly what you were to me.”

“Right.” You laughed, despite everything, despite the pain in your chest, the pit in your stomach. It was all so fucking ridiculous. “I may be an idiot, Art, but at least I’m not fucking cruel.”

Art slammed the door on his way out, making the frames on the wall rattle. Your dress was red like fresh blood, a blight on your vision. You shoved it into your closet, crumpled and messy. It was a good thing you’d left the tags on.

There was a tiny part of you that thought Art might crawl back. A part of you that wanted to laugh in his face if he did, and a part of you that would accept his affection eagerly, desperately.

On Friday, Tashi fell on the court. Art was there then, and at the hospital. That night you fuck his best friend, or ex-best friend, or Tashi’s ex-boyfriend. All of the above.

On Saturday, you take your dress back to the mall for a full-refund. Patrick splits a Mrs. Fields cookie with you. It almost makes you feel better.

Two angst fics in a row? More likely than you think! Pls keep sending more changeover AU thoughts or prompts or questions! i love it :)🩵

[amethystfairy1]

Why does Tango wear a crop top? 🤔

Let's find out...

10 Years Ago 

Under-City Labs

“Little spark!” 

“What!? What!?” Tango about toppled from the step-ladder he was sitting on, in order to reach up and tinker with the guts of a massive sorting machine he’d designed for identifying resources from deliveries and then transporting them to the lower levels. 

He spun where he sat to swing his boots over the edge of the step-ladder and peered down. 

Doc was standing there with a supremely disappointed expression on his face. Tango immediately filed back through all of his doing within the past month trying to figure out what he’d messed up this time. 

The creeper mutant tapped one loafer a few times. 

Tango matched ruby red eyes with him, trying to keep any nervousness off his face.

“Y-Yeah? What can I do for ya, Director?”

“Do not call me that.”

“Doc. What can do for ya, Doc?”  

Doc’s natural eye narrowed.

“What are you wearing?”

Tango glanced down at his outfit. Currently he was wearing a redstone streaked old tee shirt he’d long since torn the sleeves off of. It was oversized, to be honest he might’ve stolen it off of Jimmy in high school, he didn’t really remember. His claws were on full display, caked with grime considering he put them use helping him work with the finer wiring.

Instead of using. Y’know. Pliers or something. 

“W-Work clothes? Why?”

“Those are not work clothes. Work clothes are gloves and long sleeves, Tango.” Doc replied with the tone of a mother hen, and the little blaze-born whined in the back of his throat.

“But it’s sooooo hot in here! I’m already on fire!” 

“So you are. That does not mean you cannot get burnt or cut working with these machines.”

“I’m careful…” Tango began but Doc raised his eyebrow at him with a firmly set jaw and folded his arms, augmentation over green skin. 

“…ish.” 

“Gloves and long sleeves.”

“But Doc! I also use these for working with wiring, it’s easier than pliers!” 

Tango made grabby hands down from the step ladder at Doc, clicking the sharpened tips of his claws together.

Doc’s augmented eye adjusted, red glow flickering. He tilted his head and heaved a ragged sigh, raking back longish dark brown hair with his metal hand and planting his other hand on his hip. 

“I can see that, and for small projects that is fine, but not when you’re working in mechanical here.” 

“But it’s so hot.”

“Then take breaks!” 

“I don’t wanna take breaks!”

“Tango!” Doc’s tone dropped one octave from his already deep voice, and Tango flinched. His flares momentarily went out completely before sputtering to life again. He’d been practically raised by this man, and now that he’d started at the labs earlier this year he’d been trying to learn the balancing act of their workplace dynamic.

Which, as it turned out, wasn’t all that different from their dynamic anywhere else. Doc was allergic to authority and despised formality, for the labs was more like a big conglomeration of the under-city’s best and brightest just kind of…figuring things out. There was a loose hierarchical structure, but that was more just so the assignment of workflow would be more comprehensible and less completely and utter chaos. 

So Tango huffed and spun back toward the machine he was tinkering with, shoving his hands up into the wiring, tongue poking out and worrying between his sharp teeth as he shouted back in reply.

“Fine, fine, fine, I hear ya! Gloves and long sleeves from tomorrow on out, you got it!”

The Next Day.

“Tango!”  

Tango fumbled the comparator he was holding and dropped it to the ground with a clatter he jumped so hard when that booming voice shouted over his workshop area within the mechanical branch of the labs. 

“Why have you gotta scare me like that!?” The blaze-born demanded as he turned to see Doc picking his way around the chaos of Tango’s workshop area. It wasn’t exactly organized, but it was organized enough for him, and sure, the last time Pearl had visited him during work hours she’d about had a conniption, but whatever. This was how he worked best. 

“What is that!?” Doc gestured at Tango pointedly. 

“What? You said gloves and long sleeves, so I’m wearing gloves and long sleeves!” Tango was barely able to hold back the mischievous grin that tried to clamber upon his face.

Doc looked him up and down twice.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Gloves and long sleeves. See?” Tango set the comparator he’d been carrying aside and then threw his arms out and made jazz hands. His flares crackles and his blaze-rods danced and twirled to mirror his amusement at Doc’s rather stunned expression.

Tango had traded the old cut-off tee for a tight, bright red cropped long sleeve that cut just beneath his pecs, leaving the entirety of his toned stomach exposed down to his belt, which held several tools as well as a carabiner clip for his gloves. His brown work gloves were new, Doc had gotten them for him as apart of his toolkit for starting work in the mechanical sector of the labs full-time after having helped out more and more since his mid-teens. They still felt a bit stiff, but Tango supposed they’d break in the more he wore them.

Doc planted his head into his hands and groaned. 

“Little spark, you’re going to drive me insane, aren’t you?”

“Pleased to be working with you too!” 

Tango saluted, then spun on his heel to return to his work, his tail coiling and twisting cheerfully behind him, and Doc rolled his eyes, but didn’t fight him anymore on it. 

...

And there you have it! That's why Tango wears a crop top! Because he's a little shit who subscribes to the idea of malicious compliance!

This was a bit short for my taste to post on A03 with the entire series proper, but I felt like just writing it anyway, and I figured would be fun to have them over here! I'll be tagging little stuff like this as 'ttsbc ficlets' and if you have any other small seeming innocuous questions about TTSBC or Traveling Thieves that you think would be fun to see answered in this format, please do send me an ask! I think it'll be fun and as some of y'all who have followed me for awhile may know, I struggle with writing short, so this seems like it'll be good practice!

Hope you liked it! 💖

[lynk-zee]

Idk if you take request or not, I saw through your pfp and didn't saw anything so I'm going to give it a shot at least and if it's not possible it's okay I still love your content anyways :3 a sfw of course of what kind of fans would be the LaD boys if instead of being a hunter (or we just simply decided to switch careers and it goes well for us because the plot said so) we were a popular idol, (I feel like zayne would be a closet fan 100% with the argument that nobody asked) and how they would be in the handshake events

Idol!MC

Authors Note: Hi! Love the request! I was planning on waiting until I have 100 followers before I drafted up a request/asks page but as my first request, there’s no time like the present! So ask page to be determined. Thanks for the request!

Let’s say that your heart condition prohibited you from ever entering the Hunters field, but was stable enough for you to dance and sing…

Zayne would have been a long time fan, even before you were famous. When you were children, he would always hear you sing with the prettiest voice and see you dance like you were floating on air… When you did end up becoming an idol, Josephine made sure he was one of the first people to know, sending him a pamphlet of your first performance. So you can say he’s an OG stan. His desk at home would be littered with merch from keychains to pins even to a framed autograph with your kiss stain (he flushes all the time when he sees it and he will take that secret to his GRAVE). He has one of your keychains on his lanyard, but it’s small enough that no one would recognize it unless they squint hard enough. When it comes to your meet and greet, you’re surprised to see your childhood friend standing there, wearing your tee-shirt, all blank-faced and stoic, waiting for a handshake.

MC: Zayne? I didn’t know you were a fan…

Zayne: …You never asked.

In his head, you and Rafayel are already dating. Sure, you haven’t formally met yet, but it would make sense, no? He, who expresses himself through his paint. You, who touches the hearts of fans through your voice. An inspired duo indeed. You would make beautiful art together. Rafayel would download all your albums, playing your music when he hits an art block, harnessing the feelings he gets when he watches your performances on his phone to make art about a soft flame kindling warmth amongst the cold. Meeting you was nerve-wracking. For all the pomp and circumstance he puts out, he’s shy to meet person of his dreams. But today was the day— no going back now! He bought backstage passes to meet you one on one, no distractions whatsoever. When you came in after the show, his cheeks flushed with fire and his ears turned red at how beautiful you were in person. After wiping the sweat off your face from such an intense performance, you gave him the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

MC: It’s nice to meet you, Rafayel! I’m a huge fan of your art!

Rafayel: O-Oh, really? *ahem* I’m glad your as big a fan of my art as I am yours. I could give you a personal tour at the gallery if you’d like…?

Xavier didn’t exactly understand what it meant to be obsessed with an idol. Yes, he loves your music and thinks you’re very pretty, and sure, he’s indulged in buying some merch a few times, but spending three hours at a claw machine to get your limited addition plushie was normal right? Xavier is a pretty lowkey fan to be fair. He wears your tee-shirts to bed and works out to your music, but all of that stays within the house anyways. Him meeting you was by chance or fate, who knows. He couldn’t sleep at night, a rare occurrence, when he decided to take a walk to clear his head. All of a sudden, his hunters watch goes off and a shrill scream fills the air, calling him to action. As he swiftly takes care of the Wanderer, he turns to make sure the pedestrian was safe when he realizes it’s you. His very favorite idol. Xavier’s face goes blank as he processes the whole situation and you scramble to your feet to thank him.

MC: Thank you so much, Mr. Hunter! You’re my hero…

When you lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin, he almost fainted.

[thatonegreenleaf]

~June Singh~ Sim Download + CC links!

-

This is June! She was made as a response to the extensive lore that was being developed on my twitch stream when I was building a grunge style record & music store. (find that build here) She goes hand in hand with Cyrus Morrison, and is a shy poet with a flair for song writing!

TOU:

♥ Plz credit me at least once if you use and post her with no changes made.

DOWNLOAD HER TRAY FILES ON SIM FILE SHARE!

*please note her tray files do not include CC. You can find all links below! ⇩

⇢Skin Details:

Eyelids N9 | Little Details (left cheek) | Mercuria skin overlay (merged) | Misc face details (skindetail and occult) | mesmerized body blush | spotlight (tattoo) | eyelashes | kissed freckles (merged) | floral skin detail set (merged)

⇢Genetics:

checkmate hair (alpha alternative: N73 hair) | angel eyes (non default) | eyebrows #3 | bare skinetones (merged/non genetic) | eye preset 5f | lip presets F N33-41 | ear presets | belly slider | shoulder height/slider | eyebrow sliders N1 | eyelids sliders N1 | cleft chin slider | eyebrow width slider | thigh slider V2  | facial asymmetry slider | neck+height slider | hip shape slider | EA lash remover

⇢Tattoos/Facial Piercings:

sleeve tattoo (merged) | dragon torso tattoo | hand tattoo | nostril piercing | offset septum piercing

⇢Everyday:

necklace | socks V3 (calf, plain) | eva tights | becca 2 shoes | earrings | plaid shirt accessory | lace top | seqoia skirt | taylor eyeliner/lipstick

⇢Formal:

uchis dress with lace | lina shoes | sara armlet | taylor eyeliner/lipstick | lailah earrings

⇢Athletic:

yoga pants | sneakers 2 | adidas tee | smart watch | kingdom earrings | beanieV1 plain | taylor eyeliner/lipstick | socks V3 (calf, plain)

⇢Sleep:

knit shorts | kai top | teddy bear slippers

⇢Party:

earrings | skirt | top | socks V3 (calf, plain) | taylor eyeliner/lipstick | tattoo choker | boots V1 (fem) | beret

⇢Swimwear:

smiley earrings | bottoms (5) | musa top | ring choker | taylor eyeliner/lipstick

⇢Hot Weather:

hat (no spikes) | glitter fishnets | taylor eyeliner/lipstick | sunburn earrings | necklace | suede trainers (01) | socks V1 (ankle, plain) | tank top | shorts

⇢Cold Weather:

earrings | choker | taylor eyeliner/lipstick | jacket accesory | embroidered bodysuit | jeans | street boots 

-

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[prettieinpink]

Wardrobe Essentials Guide !!

This is only a guide- you don’t need everything I list. This is just to help people build their dream wardrobe sensibly without over or under consuming or to recognize what they may want/need.

Solid colour does not mean there can be no pattern on your clothes!! It just means avoid shapes, text, pictures etc on your clothes!! 

Before purchasing ANYTHING ask yourself these 3 questions!!

How can I style this?

Is there an opportunity cost? 

Will I still be able to wear it in 3+ years, even if my style changes?

TOPS 

  2 solid colour long sleeve tops

 2 solid colour short sleeve tops

2 solid colour tank top

2 solid colour cami top

2 underneath ‘layers’ tops 

1 athletic wear top

1 white button up ( make it as plain as possible) 

2+ graphic tee of your choice ( for funsies ) 

1 cute bodysuit of your choice 

1+ knitwear solid colour top

3+ statement piece tops of ur liking 

BOTTOMS 

1 good pair of jeans you like

2 leggings solid colour!!!

2 sweatpants 

2 track shorts 

2 basic long pants solid colour ( for going out more formally/extra) 

2 biker shorts solid colour

1 cargos pants solid colour 

1 denim shorts

2 mini skirts ( or longer )

1 midi/maxi skirt 

1 pencil black skirt ( formal events ) 

1 athletic wear bottoms 

3+ statement pieces of your liking 

DRESSES / FULL BODY 

1 black mini dress (trust me)

1 solid colour maxi dress

1 solid colour mini dress

1 solid colour jumpsuit (short or long)

1 solid colour 2 piece outfit

1+ statement pieces of your liking 

OUTERWEAR 

1 white cardigan ( can be cropped)

1 black cardigan ( can be cropped) 

2 solid colour zip up jackets

2 solid colour sweaters 

1 solid colour puffer jacket 

1 solid colour blazer

1+ statement piece of your liking

SLEEP/LOUNGEWEAR

1 cute pair of summer pjs

1 cute pair of winter pjs

2 sleeping tops

2 sleeping bottoms 

1 satin OR cotton robe 

2 cute loungewear sets 

UNDERWEAR & BRAS

2 your skin colour t-shirt bras 

2 solid colour sport bras

1 black t-shirt bra

1 white t-shirt bra

2+ your skin colour bikini underwear

2+ your skin colour slip underwear 

2+ solid colour hipster underwear 

2+ solid colour classic underwear

1+ maxi underwear 

OTHER AKA OPTIONAL 

1 cute swimwear set 

1 cute activewear set

SHOES

1 plain white sneakers ( can be chunky) 

1+ white sneakers with statement colours

1 cute pair of ugg boots 

1 nude pair of heels of your choice

1 white pair of heels of your choice

1 black pair of heels of your choice

1 white OR black boots 

1 black, nude OR white pair of loafers

1 pair of solid colour sandals OR FLATS

2+ statement pieces of your choice 

BAGS 

1 black shoulder OR crossbody

1 white shoulder OR crossbody 

1 brown shoulder OR crossbody

1 solid colour tote bag ( not the shopping ones) 

1 solid colour clutch 

1 solid colour backpack

JEWELLERY ( ALL ARE EITHER SLIVER OR GOLD YOU CAN CHOOSE )

small OR big hoops

5 cute studs

5 dangling earrings

2 necklaces

4 rings 

4 bracelets 

1 good quality watch 

APPAREL ACCESSORIES 

2+ black belts

2+ solid colour scarves 

1+ solid colour gloves

1+ solid colour beanies 

2+ solid colour hats of ur liking

2+ apparel chains

2+ solid colour sunglasses 

Andddd thats it lovelies!!! Reminder to spend and consume responsibly, don’t shop fast fashion please!! Clothes suck and its so bad for the environment. Is there anything that you think I should add to this list, or anything to remove and why? Also if you don’t know why something is on this list, ask me pls!!!! 

Should I make an skincare or make up bag essentials guide next ??? 

[p1zzaparty]

a very small, tiny, itty bitty detail i love to see in other peoples drawings of the Losers, especially as adults or young adults even, is what kind of fashion is given to them

like its almost a given that everyones Richie has some weird collection of shitty t-shirts with some nerd thing attached to it. Or brightly colored button ups with polka dots and stripes.

Eddie seems to stump everyone because i've seen him from everything to sweaters, to expensive formal wear, to neon rainbow tank tops. Personally i always saw that guy, with his bright pink and blue polo shirts and simple plain tees, as just a mixed bag of beans. He still dresses like mommy picked out clothes that she thinks would look super handsome on him, with his little stiff gelled combed hair to match. But he rarely, probably has anything that has actual words or icons on his shirts. Maybe a national park sweater here and there, that guy probably loooves gift shops. I think now with his big boy money he'll stray away from his usual get up, splurge a little, buy something branded, something new and expensive. Also something stupid, like shoes that are way too expensive. He's a fake sneakerhead, only really investing in brands he THINKS are cool or trendy. Not that he cares too much about being trendy and cool, like Richie probably does. Just...gets an ear worm sometimes, whispering to him about how they aren't that bad looking, and that he's buying it for himself, not because some jackass on tv wore them. Maybe a shiny new watch too, and maybe even a band shirt for pj-only purposes. Otherwise he's pretty strict on his expenses and just buys what fits and works as a shirt, pants, etc. Comfort over design, squarish in appearance, boxy and casually professional. I don't see him wearing a suit outside of work or waltzing into his nearest cheap café with a confident blazer and matching ironed pants. I doubt that guy even owns an iron, probably forgot to even buy one after mummy-kins passed. Even after she screeched and raved about it too, and he just ignored her tangents, assuming it wasn't even that important, all while his shirts became crinklier and sadder much like him. Sometimes i see people make him almost tooooo strict and formal and buttoned up, to y'know match Richies more casual and stoner-dork like style that's sometimes assigned to him. But Eddie, to me, is always a business casual kinda guy. Like, paid business trip to a golf course casual. Throwing on what's comfortable, giving a healthy amount of thought to what people might think of you. You will NOT find this man dressed to the nines at home, but he does, in fact, have a little pocket protector on his stupid shirt. With a pen or pencil thrown in just to make use of it, an old candy wrapper he forgot about and WILL get washed with it, or a few crumbs from his earlier microwaved breakfast burrito he had to scarf down before Myra had something to say about its ""toxic"" ingredients.

His clothes probably vary in size by a very small margin. Knowing a ball park guess of his pants and shirt sizes, always forgetting to add in it going through the washer, or how a size 30 is a size 31 in Canada or whatever. Probably because he was so used to mummy buying everything for him, even into his early 20s in college. Now he's free from her suffocating grasp, he still copies her sense of fashion and rarely does anything outlandish or fashionable. I think later down the line, in the cannon he survives and goes off to live a happily ever after with Richie, that he'd begin to explore a bit more. Getting that sugar baby money helps, and he'd have to try and buck up with Richie, trying to copy him slightly in terms of fashion.

He's a bland man Sarah, a BLAND man!