#seamless garment

[forward-in-joy]

May God, who created a world of diversity and vibrancy,

Go with us as we embrace life in all its fullness.

May Jesus, who teaches us to care for strangers and foreigners,

Go with us as we try to be good neighbors in our communities.

May the Holy Spirit, who breaks down barriers and celebrates community,

Go with us as we find courage to create a place of welcome for all.

(Posted on Xavier University’s website)

[witchoil]

had THEE most baffling experience with a knitting pattern today. like, you don’t HAVE to include a diagram of construction, but when it’s significantly different from how you would construct a similar garment with slightly different features, it would be, appreciated

[samyakkdegital]

The Jodhpuri suit, also known as the Bandhgala suit, has a fascinating origin story that blends Indian and Western influences.

Place and Time: The Jodhpuri suit is believed to have originated in the princely state of Jodhpur, Rajasthan, around the 1600s.

Maharaja Pratap Singh: Some credit Maharaja Pratap Singh of Jodhpur for popularizing the style. While on a trip to England, his luggage containing traditional Indian attire went missing. He improvised and had a new outfit tailored on Savile Row, a famous street known for bespoke tailoring. This new outfit, featuring a shorter coat and breeches, became the foundation of the Jodhpuri suit.

Fusion of Styles: The Jodhpuri suit is considered an Indo-Western creation. It combines elements of the traditional Indian garment, the Sherwani (long coat), with a shorter, tailored jacket inspired by Western styles. The Jodhpuri breeches, similar to riding pants, are another distinct feature.

Evolution and Popularity: The Jodhpuri suit gained popularity among other Indian royalty and aristocracy. Over time, the style evolved, with variations in fabric, embroidery, and closure types. Jodhpuri suits became associated with formal wear and special occasions.

Jodhpur or Bandhgala? Interestingly, there’s some debate about the origin of the name. While the story suggests Maharaja Pratap Singh’s connection to Jodhpur, the term “Bandhgala” literally translates to “closed neck” and likely refers to the characteristic collar of the suit. Both names are widely used today.

Discover the Perfect Jodhpuri Suit for Every Occasion

 Off-White Zardosi Embroidered Raw Silk Jodhpuri Suit

Introducing the epitome of sophistication and style – Modern Jodhpuri suits for men. At Samyakk, we redefine elegance with our collection of Updated Jodhpuri suits for men. Crafted to perfection, these suits are a seamless blend of tradition and contemporary fashion, making them the ideal choice for the fashion-conscious gentleman.

Elevate your wardrobe with our range of Fashionable Jodhpuri suits for men, designed to make you stand out at any event. Whether you’re the groom or a wedding guest, our Royal Jodhpuri suits exude regal charm and timeless appeal.

For those with a discerning taste, we offer Custom Jodhpuri suits tailored to your exact specifications. Whether it’s for your wedding day or a special occasion, our expert craftsmen ensure that every detail is perfect.

Black Bead Embroidered Suede Jodhpuri Suit

Make a statement at your wedding with our exquisite collection of Jodhpuri suits for groom. With intricate embroidery and luxurious fabrics, these suits are sure to make you the center of attention on your big day.

For wedding guests looking to make a lasting impression, our Jodhpuri suits for wedding guests are the perfect choice. With a variety of styles and designs to choose from, you’ll find the perfect outfit for any celebration.

Turn heads at parties with our stylish Party wear Jodhpuri suits. Whether it’s a formal event or a night out with friends, our suits ensure you look effortlessly chic and sophisticated.

Discover the latest trends in men’s fashion with our collection of Latest Jodhpuri suits designs. From bold patterns to sleek silhouettes, we have something to suit every style and taste.

And the best part? Our Affordable Jodhpuri suits make luxury accessible to everyone. With unbeatable prices and uncompromising quality, you can elevate your style without breaking the bank.

Experience the epitome of elegance and style with Samyakk‘s collection of Jodhpuri suits for men. Shop now and redefine your wardrobe with timeless sophistication.

Redefining Men’s Fashion: Explore the Exquisite World of Designer Jodhpuri Suits

Black Cutdana Embroidered Italian IndoWestern Sherwani

Latest designer Jodhpuri suits for men are making waves in the fashion scene, offering a fusion of tradition and contemporary style. These trendy Jodhpuri suits for men are perfect for those who appreciate timeless elegance with a modern twist.

Crafted with precision and attention to detail, contemporary Jodhpuri suits for men are designed to make a statement at any occasion. From weddings to formal gatherings, these suits exude sophistication and charm.

For the fashion-forward Jodhpuri suits for men, it’s all about staying ahead of the curve. With innovative designs and cutting-edge fabrics, these suits redefine men’s fashion, setting new trends with every wear.

Gone are the days of traditional attire; today’s men prefer modern Jodhpuri suits that reflect their style sensibilities. Sleek lines, impeccable tailoring, and exquisite embellishments characterize these suits, making them a must-have in every fashion enthusiast’s wardrobe.

Step into the spotlight with stylish Jodhpuri suits for men that command attention wherever you go. Whether it’s a red-carpet event or a corporate gathering, these suits ensure you make a lasting impression.

Creamy Pink Zardosi Embroidered Jute Jodhpuri Suit

Experience the future of fashion with cutting-edge Jodhpuri suits for men that push the boundaries of traditional attire. With innovative silhouettes and avant-garde designs, these suits redefine the concept of sartorial excellence.

Embrace sophistication with sleek Jodhpuri suits for men that epitomize understated luxury. Perfectly tailored and exquisitely crafted, these suits exude refinement and class, making them a symbol of impeccable taste.

Innovation meets elegance with innovative Jodhpuri suits for men that blend classic charm with contemporary flair. From bold patterns to unconventional fabrics, these suits are a testament to the evolving landscape of men’s fashion.

Elevate your style quotient with fresh Jodhpuri suits for men that breathe new life into traditional attire. With updated designs and modern aesthetics, these suits are the epitome of sophistication and refinement.

Indulge in luxury with exclusive designer Jodhpuri suits for men that exude opulence and extravagance. Crafted from the finest materials and adorned with intricate details, these suits are reserved for the discerning gentleman who demands nothing but the best.

For those who appreciate the finer things in life, high-end Jodhpuri suits for men are the epitome of luxury. Impeccably crafted and exquisitely designed, these suits are a testament to exquisite craftsmanship and timeless elegance.

Make a bold style statement with luxury Jodhpuri suits for men that showcase your impeccable taste and discerning eye for fashion. With sumptuous fabrics and impeccable tailoring, these suits are the epitome of refined sophistication.

Conclusion

If you’re ready to elevate your style with the timeless elegance of Jodhpuri suits, look no further than Samyakk. Explore our exquisite collection online at Samyakk.com, where you can browse through the latest designs and trends from the comfort of your home. And for those who prefer a hands-on shopping experience, we invite you to visit our physical store in Bangalore, where our knowledgeable staff will assist you in finding the perfect suit to suit your style and occasion. Whether you shop online or visit our store, at Samyakk, we are dedicated to helping you make a statement with your wardrobe.

FAQ 

Can I find a Jodhpuri suit suitable for a specific occasion, such as weddings or parties, at Samyakk?

Absolutely! Samyakk offers a diverse range of Jodhpuri suits tailored for various occasions, including weddings, parties, and formal gatherings. Our collection caters to different style preferences and event themes.

Are the Jodhpuri suits at Samyakk customizable to fit my unique measurements and style preferences?

Yes, indeed! At Samyakk, we understand that each individual has their own distinct style and body shape. That’s why we offer custom tailoring services to ensure your Jodhpuri suit fits you perfectly and reflects your personal taste.

What sets Samyakk’s Jodhpuri suits apart from other options available in the market?

Samyakk takes pride in offering Jodhpuri suits crafted with precision, attention to detail, and a keen understanding of the latest fashion trends. Our suits seamlessly blend traditional elegance with contemporary flair, ensuring you stand out from the crowd with sophistication and charm.

How can I ensure that I’m making the right choice when selecting a Jodhpuri suit from Samyakk’s online collection?

We understand that choosing the perfect Jodhpuri suit can be daunting, especially when shopping online. That’s why Samyakk provides detailed product descriptions, high-quality images, and sizing guides to help you make an informed decision. Additionally, our customer service team is always available to address any queries or concerns you may have.

Does Samyakk offer international shipping for customers outside of Bangalore?

Yes, we do! Samyakk is committed to bringing our exquisite collection of Jodhpuri suits to customers worldwide. Whether you’re in Bangalore or beyond, you can enjoy the convenience of shopping online and having your chosen suit delivered straight to your doorstep.

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[eideticmemory]

ONLY ON CAMERA | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Matthew convinces you to film a sex tape but it really doesn’t take a whole lot of convincing.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning/Includes: Literal porn 😭 dedicated to and inspired by these gifs.

“Is it on?” you ask, tilting your head to get a good look at the clunky thing. Your eyes follow the camera back and forth, back and forth, only for Matthew to set it down in the exact spot he started.

“Yeah it’s on,” he nods, though he doesn't look at you directly. He steadies the camcorder on its tripod, instead watching you on the tiny screen. You’re wearing this dress that he’s decided must be captured on film. Memorialized. It cuts off at your thighs and the fabric is so thin that your nipples are flashing headlights. It’s off white, sheer. He would marry you in it. He would fuck you in it. And above all, what makes it so intoxicating is that you’re clearly oblivious to just how good you look. Casually propped on his bed, knees bent underneath your body, a small pout on your lips. He can’t help but break a smile, telling you, “You look so beautiful.”

Then suddenly, you’re not so oblivious anymore. Suddenly, you’re very conscious that you’re being recorded. Being watched. And so you blush, your lips curling up a shy smile. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Matthew breathes out and he licks his lips like a dog. “Such a pretty little dress.”

“Oh, this old thing?” you giggle and it sends a rush of blood to his dick. “You like it?”

“Mmmhmmm,” he hums, zooming in on your chest, panning down your body. “Show me your legs.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you take a proper seat on the bed, your legs dangling over the edge. Bashful, you watch Matthew focus the lens on your swaying feet, trailing up to your knees, zooming in on your thighs.

“I feel silly,” you tell him.

“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers, the camera now angled in on your face. Your wide and innocent eyes peering up at him. “You’re a natural.”

You smile and he captures the white in your teeth, the crinkle in your cheeks. He lingers over your collarbones, watches the air move in and out of your chest. Pushing your breasts up and down and up and down.

“Can you pull your dress up a little bit?” he murmurs, the camera slowly panning to your hips.

“Mhm,” you nod and hook your fingers underneath the hem. You push the fabric up your thighs and he stops you.

“Slower,” he watches. “Slower.”

So you slow down, inching the dress up bit by bit. You can feel the cold air pooling between your thighs, circulating over your panties. His breath catches in his throat at the sight and it’s the first time he looks at you. Not through the lens, not pictured on a tiny screen, but directly at you. Your eyes meet and it makes you so nervous that you stop what you’re doing entirely.

“You’re doing good,” he repeats. “You’re doing so good, baby. Take those off for me,” his eyes flicker between your legs. But only for a moment and then he’s looking at your pretty face. He can’t get enough of that pretty, pretty face.

“These?” you take hold of your panties, just to be sure.

“Mhm,” he nods. Again, licking his lips. He can’t help it, staring at you with his jaw agape. It makes his mouth quite dry. “Slowly.”

You duck your head as you push the seamless garment down your thighs, lifting yourself just enough that they move to your legs. “Slow down,” he says as they near your knees. “Oh yes, just like that. That’s perfect.”

They fall from your feet and Matthew pans the camera from the floor to your thighs, which you have spread just enough to leave something to the imagination. You look up at him as he zooms out, centering you in the frame.

“Should I…take my dress off, too?” you ask, so casually push one strap off your shoulder but he reacts like a victorian man who’s just seen an ankle. Sucking in a quick breath, exhaling it slowly.

“No,” he shakes his head. He flips the tiny screen around and finally - finally - he steps from behind the camera. Your heart rate increases quickly, suddenly, your eyes growing wide as he towers over you. “No, let’s keep the dress on.”

You nod. You say, “Okay,”and watch aimlessly as he kneels down in front of you. “Oh my,” you smile down at him.

He chuckles quietly, his hands planted at your side. “Give me a kiss,” he whispers to you and his mouth is already open and waiting. Begging.

So you ease your hands into his hair and lean in, gently planting your lips on his. His moan is almost immediate, vibrating against your teeth. “Come closer,” he says into your mouth and you submissively scoot down the bed, your knees locked under his arms. “Mhm,” he hums, sliding his tongue into your mouth. “Right there, that’s where I want you,” and his hands find their way underneath your dress, his clammy palms against your thighs.

You shudder, you don’t mean to, but you shudder under his touch and it’s so visceral that you have to laugh at yourself. You feel his smile mirrored against your lips.

“What are you being so shy for, hm?” Still, those hands underneath your dress. His teeth grazing your neck. Sinking into your collarbone.

“I’m not,” you run your hands down his chest. “I’m not,” you insist but you’re anxious as you undo the buttons on his shirt. You can feel his eyes lingering on your face and you avoid making contact, exhale a shaky breath as you push the clothing from his shoulders. Your hands run over his bare skin and his eyes roll to the back of his head, his neck croning back as you grab at his throat.

His mouth lands on yours as if pulled by a magnetic force, open and slimy, his hands gripping your waist. You take a strong hold of his face, etching fingerprints into his jaw, clawing at him just to keep him close. Your hands travel over his shoulders and down his back. You can feel the goosebumps on his spine. He releases the softest moan into your mouth and when he pulls himself away from you, your lips are soaked and dripping, begging to stay connected. He drops his jaw so you can spit in his mouth and you’re shy about it, but not too shy to do it. He swallows it and he smiles up at you because he knows that looked good on camera.

He sits back and it all happens so fast that when he grips onto your thighs, pulls you towards his face, all you can say is, “Oh!” And when he puts your pussy in the warmth of his mouth, it’s more like an “Ohhh.”

You nearly collapse on the bed but you brace yourself with your arm, your other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair. Matthew’s not holding back. A little bit of spit and a few swipes of his tongue and then he’s sucking on your clit, burying his face in you, starving. You squeal, the pleasure pulsing through your entire body, kicking out at the tip of your toes. You thrash against him, your legs wrap almost completely around his head but his grip on you is so tight. You’re not going anywhere.

And it’s the sounds you make that urge him on, the helplessness in your voice as he devours you, works his tongue on you, holds your firm against his mouth. You can’t stop your body from twitching. One jolt and you worry you’ll pull his hair out from the scalp but he doesn’t mind. Your hand lands on his shoulder quite harshly, a loud slap echoing throughout the room and he actually moans, grips onto you tighter as you dig your nails into his skin.

You tap him, quickly, harder than you mean to, his skin turning bright red at the force. Quivering, you whimper, “M-Matthew…fuck. Matthew.”

“Mhmmmm,” he responds, grunting as your thighs latch around his face, the sudden and deadly grip you take of his hair. The pitch in your voice rises. The subtle arch in your back rises. You call out to him again and again. And he pulls away.

You feel the loss immediately. You whine, looking down to meet his eyes and he’s grinning at you, drooling all over your thighs. He holds your wrist in his fist, planting sloppy kisses up your arm. “Should I stop?” he asks.

And you giggle. You giggle and lean into him and it’s so infectious that the both of you descend into giddy laughter. He smiles into another kiss with you, exhaling slowly as you taste yourself on his lips. You lean back, spread your legs, and watch him take hold of your thighs once again.

“I thought so,” he says and then he’s back at it.

Your body has no more fight left in it. Once Matthew starts, just slowly moving his tongue in circles, you feel the pressure building immediately. You bite down on your lip, give him a quiet, “Mhm,” and throw your head back. As you straighten yourself back up, you come face to face with the camera. You remember its presence in the room. You can see yourself trapped in the little screen in front of you. And once you see yourself, you can’t stop watching.

You run your hands down Matthew’s back, watching. Your jaw drops and your eyes get hooded but still, you’re watching. Directly to the camera, you say, “I’m gonna come.” It’s weird watching the words form in your mouth but you can’t stop them. Weird that Matthew has no idea you’re doing it, but you know it’s exactly what he’d want. “I’m gonna come, baby.”

He digs his nails into the flesh of your hips, his tongue quickening in pace, his mouth open and ready. Underneath your constant noise, he’s humming in delight, sending vibrations through your spine. You watch yourself come undone, watch the life leave your body, the way your arms struggle to hold you up any longer. And when you finally reach your peak, you give Matthew one big, loud moan as you collapse on the mattress, squeezing his head between your thighs.

Your legs get tangled and twisted, thrashing against his face but he pins your hips down, sucks you dry. You whimper, you push at his head, pull at his hair. But he doesn’t stop until he’s ready and he kisses all over your limp body. Kisses your belly through the fabric of your dress. Gropes your breasts, feels the sweat all over your skin. When he finally reaches your lips, you kiss him back as much as you can through your heavy breathing and you punctuate it with a smile.

“You still with me?” he touches your face.

You sigh softly, melting into his palm, poking your tongue out to lick his thumb. “I’m with you.”

“Good,” he kisses you. “Good. That’s my girl.” He stands up and begins to undo his pants, your eyes shamelessly focused on his crotch. His eyes are targeting your pretty, pretty face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not,” you avert your eyes, chuckling. “I’m not looking at you,” you tell him, looking away while he climbs in bed beside you. “I’m not-ah!” you exclaim, suddenly pulled into his arms.

He perches you in his lap, your legs hanging off the bed, your hands planted on his thighs to keep you in place. His arm is wrapped tight around your waist, his other hand holding your face, turning you towards him so he can kiss you. And kiss you and kiss you. Nibbling softly on his shoulder, your eyes meet on screen and he gives you a smile. “Look at you up there,” he cooes and you chuckle, innocently grinding your hips on his cock. His breath hitches in his throat, his hand slowly running down your chest and your tummy. “God, look at you.”

He releases you just enough so you can sit properly, his cock sliding into you, stretching you out so perfectly that your head falls back on his shoulder. Still, he watches you, he drinks you in, breathing heavily into your ear. “You alright?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you breathe out, slowly rocking your hips. “Oh god, yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you squeak. “F-fuck.”

“Oh, baby,” he moans. “That’s it,” his hand wraps around your throat. “Look at the camera,” he orders and you can see him smiling the moment you do.

“There she is,” he whispers, cut off by a deep groan. “There’s my pretty girl. Hi.”

“Hi,” you pant, your hips increasing in speed, your legs buckling underneath you. You dig your nails into his skin, your strength depleting by the second. Still, you pick up the pace, watching how the ecstasy spreads across his face.

“Mhm,” he nods, tightening his hand around your throat, just a bit. “Mhm,” he whimpers. “Mhm, mhm. Oh, fuck.”

You reach back and take hold of his hair, the sweat sealing your bodies together so closely that you think you may never separate. You never want to. Your back arches against his body and he pulls you back in, bucks his hips into yours without much thought.

“Oh, baby, you’re amazing. You’re so fucking incredible. Fuck,” the praises flow out of him like he just can’t stop. He nibbles on your face and the bass of his moans sends shivers down your spine. Almost as casually, he starts to rub your clit. You cry out, instantly overstimulated, trembling so hard that you nearly fall from his lap but his arm is locked around you. “Mm-mm, you’re okay,” he rubs you softly. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Give me a kiss.”

You try. You do, but your mouth is wide open so instead his tongue wrestles with yours, he chews on your bottom lip. You grip onto his wrist, whimpering into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to rub you faster, harder, putting pressure on that one spot that makes you clamp your thighs shut. You grind your teeth together but the force is too much and all the air in your lungs is coming out in cries. Loud and uncontrollable, punctuated with a weak, “M-Matthew…mm, Matthew…”

“Yeah, baby?” and he laughs when your head rolls back. He kisses your shoulder, “You gonna come for me again?”

“Mhm. Yes. Yes,” it comes out like a mantra. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Show me,” he begs. “Show the camera. C’mon, show that pretty face.”

You sit up, making eye contact with him very briefly before you look into the camera lense, keeping the rhythm in your hips, grinding yourself against his hand. “Mm…” you whine. “Oh…I-I’m…”

“I know,” he says, cradling your face, concentrating on stimulating your clit. Watching you fall apart on screen. “I know, it’s okay. Let it out.”

You claw at his wrist, you do your best to maintain eye contact with the camera, encouraged by the way he’s watching you. Rubbing you, holding you by your throat. He feels your thighs tighten around his hand and he grunts, “Almost, baby. C’mon. Mhm, c’mon.”

Your moans come out through gritted teeth, your eyes screwed shut, your hips on autopilot. When your legs scrunch up into your body, he keeps you steady, he keeps the motion going, watching, waiting. And he keeps talking to you, “Mhm, that’s it. Just like that. Oh, let it out, baby. Give it to me,” he pleads. “Give it to me.”

You would’ve said his name again but he touches you just right, plunges into you just right and you come so hard that you forget how to speak. Nothing but a loud and deep cry, accompanied by the uncontrollable tremors that thrash through your body. Your legs kicking and kicking, your thighs crushing his hand that continues to rub you. He only stops because you fall back, out of his arms, onto the bed and then he’s laughing.

“Always drama with you, pretty lady,” he chuckles, letting you fall onto the mattress. This angle simply just won’t work so he grabs you and pulls you towards him, your side profile now fully displayed in front of the camera. “You okay?” he asks, his thumb touching your lips.

“Mhm,” you nod with two of his fingers in your mouth. You grab his wrist and then his elbow and taking the hint, he climbs on top of you with a messy kiss. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and when you put your hands on his face, refusing to let him break away, he puts his cock inside of you and the pressure makes you gasp. “Oh, fuck. You feel so good,” and it’s evident in the way he starts to pound you. Like it’s consuming him. “Oh my god.”

He buries his face in your neck and you have a good view of your feets flying around in the air. The headboard smacking into the wall. As he begins to kiss all over your jaw, you moan and look over at the camera. You flash it with a great big smile, your arms wrapped tight around Matthew’s shoulders, the dirty sounds of his echoing around your skull.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.”

“Yeah, my love?” you run your hand through his hair.

He props himself up, boxing you in between his arms so he can stare at you. You touch his chest and you can feel his breathing nearly stop. “Mhm,” he whimpers, nuzzling his nose into yours. “Just keep looking at me. Look at me, baby.”

And you give him the same smile you’d given the camera, so big and bright that he can’t help but smile in return. “Yes, pretty girl. Just like that,” and he inches closer to you, the rough movement in his hips getting sloppier, jagged. “Oh [y/n], baby,” he moans. “I’m gonna come. Oh, you’re so good. You’re so good. Fuck.”

You reach for him, you want to hold him but he pulls back, pulls his cock out of you and looks you in the eye as he makes a big mess on your stomach. You can’t tear your eyes away from him but you feel the warmth soaking through your rumpled clothes and your jaw drops in shock. Panting, you watch his head roll back and his mouth wide open while he groans, his hand tugging at his leaky cock.

You huff and look down at your body, exclaiming, “My dress!”

His face, beating bright red, looks you up and down and all he has to say for himself is, “Oopsie?”

You kick him gently and he cackles, pushing your leg out of the way so he can lay on top of you, kiss you. And kiss you. And kiss you. He grins as he turns his attention back to the camera, “Well. Take a bow.”

You giggle and, as much as you can while trapped underneath him, you sway your arm dramatically. That’s all the bow you can muster. He kisses your cheek and the camera keeps rolling. It captures at least another fifteen minutes of nothing but you, Matthew, your dress and your mouths. Constantly connected.

[innerfare]

Captain Kid Piercing Your Nipples - Part 1

Summary: You're the newest member of the Kid Pirates, and you have a request for your captain

Pairing: Eustass Kid x Afab!Reader

Genre: not exactly smut but not exactly fluff

CW: nothing explicit but pretty suggestive

Word Count: 1,651

You slipped into Kid’s workshop without knocking, stepping over piles of scrap metal in your clunky combat boots. 

Before joining Captain Kid’s fearsome crew, you had only ever secretly ogled boots like that in shop windows, your family the kind to look down their noses at girls who wore that sort of attire. Looking back on it, you had no idea why; it had never even occurred to you to ask. Meek and mild as you had been in those days, you were too scared. 

Since running away and joining, though, you had gotten rid of the polos and khakis and traded them in for a menagerie of pieces you liked, the vast majority of them plaid, leather, black lace, and rather ostentatious. Captain Kid had taught you how to apply eyeliner and lipstick, had encouraged you to pierce your ears as many times as you wanted, had even taken you shopping for garments he wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with you in. 

You had also fallen into your captain’s bed. Or rather, he had shown up at your cabin door one night with a wicked grin on his face. His mentorship had been isolated to the day hours prior to that, but after, he spent his nights teaching you things, too- filthy, nasty, awful things that you took far too much joy in doing.  

“I told you, you could pull it off,” said Kid, looking up from the pieces of metal he was attempting to fit together with a wicked grin on his face. His eyes landed on the black ribbon around your neck, a silver bell hanging from it. 

“Yeah, yeah, Captain Kid is always right.” You repeated his favorite words for the third time that day. 

The bell jingled as you walked, and you had been self conscious when Kid picked it out a few months ago. Now, you almost never took it off, the necklace quickly becoming one of your favorites. You especially liked Kid’s habit of reaching across the table at mealtimes and jingling it, grinning like a kid as he did so. 

“It’s getting late,” you said. 

Kid grunted and looked back down at his work. 

You lingered by his worktable, rather unsure of yourself. You had tossed back some sake in preparation for the conversation you were about to have, but still, you had planned to have it in the dark, his eyes closed as he tried to get some sleep so he couldn’t see the way you blushed. You hated it when Kid noticed you blushing; he was merciless when he did. 

It’s not a big deal, you told yourself. Just a piercing. 

“Can I ask you a favor?” You asked him. 

He grunted again- one of his nice grunts, not one of his mean ones. You spoke an entire language of Kid grunts now, and that’s how you knew he wasn’t so consumed by his work that he wanted you to leave him be. Part of you wished it had been one of those leave me alone sorts so you had an excuse to run back to his cabin and hide beneath that leopard-print blanket on his bed, the one he always stole when you two slept together, leaving you no choice but to crawl on top of him to keep warm. 

You fiddled with the bell around your neck, running your eyes over the hunks of metal in his workshop. You had long grown accustomed to the smell of oil and grease, nevermind the smell of sweat mixed with Kid’s ostentatious cologne. You found comfort in it, even, comfort enough to push ahead with your request. 

“Can you do another piercing?” Your fingers went from your necklace to the row of rings in your left ear, a series of hoops Kid had done for you. His power over metal made the process rather seamless, though his habit of using his ability to tug on the rings when the two of you were in a fight was quite annoying. You knew every piece of metal in your body was advantageous for him, yet you wanted more. 

Kid grunted once more, the kind that meant he agreed to whatever you had asked. After, he pushed his goggles down and reached for a pair of gloves. 

Your glanced at the nearby blowtorch and knew he was about to dive deeper in, so you made your request known before the sound of the blowtorch could drown out your soft voice. “I want you to pierce my nipples.” 

Kid froze like you had ice-ice powers. With the goggles obscuring his face, you couldn’t quite make out the expression he wore. It filled you with anxiety, and you shifted back and forth on your feet. You wished you had consumed some stronger liquor, not just some sake with Wire. 

The minute that passed felt like a decade, and your anxiety consumed you. 

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t have asked.” You turned away, ready to make for the workshop doors and never look back. Maybe you would throw yourself overboard just to be free from the embarrassment. “I just always thought it would be-” 

A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked. You spun around to see Kid had removed his goggles. He was sitting on a stool behind his worktable, and in that position, he was your height, putting you at eye level. 

Kid couldn’t believe what he had heard. When you entered his workshop, he had hoped you would curl up on that bench in the corner to watch him work in silence like you sometimes did, his favorite place to have you. 

Perhaps, had he not been quite so wrapped up in his work, he would have realized the way you were fiddling with the bell he had insisted on buying you and kicking your clunky combat boots together, the exact way he had met you- minus the bell and combat boots- back on that wretched island you’d been born on. 

You were a skilled martial artist and very intelligent, an asset on his crew, no doubt, but you were also suffering from a lack of confidence that made Kid want to scream his head off and kiss your lips raw at the same time. How a member of his infamous crew was anything other than an arrogant son of a bitch was beyond him. 

And then there was your request. 

His heart hammering in his chest, he wanted to hate you for making him such a pathetic beast, a whimpering boy desperate for your affection. But he couldn’t. He could only be a slave to you, could only grab your wrist and yank you into his lap. 

“Your nipples, huh?” He nipped at your ear, teeth gnashing against the metal installations he could proudly take credit for. “I’m flattered you trust me with such a delicate matter.” 

“Shut up.” You only ever said it half-heartedly, like you wanted him to continue. 

And continue he did. “I don’t know, y/n. They’re awfully sensitive. Just last night you were crying in my bed. Please, Kid, please. It hurts so good.” 

“Bad. I said bad.” You had said good and you knew it. 

“You said good.” 

“I knew you were going to use that against me,” you said with a scoff. 

He feigned offense. “Use what against you?” 

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to be a gentle lover.”  

“Now, who’s the expert in this relationship?” He tightened his grip on you, perfectly content to hold you in his lap while you argued. In fact, it was his favorite activity, bickering with you while you were wrapped in his big arms. 

“I know enough to know you’re not supposed to bite them like that,” you argued back, jamming an elbow into his broad chest. “It’s called a love bite for a reason. You like to chew on me like a feral animal.” 

“That’s what you reduce me to, my pretty pink tulip. A feral animal.” 

You threw your head back into his chest and groaned. 

Just when you were too embarrassed to continue the conversation, just when you were too fed up with his antics and teasing to stay in his workshop, he pulled out the big guns, calling you the name he only used in your softest moments together. 

You had been buying pink tulips at the bustling market in your town the day the Kid Pirates attacked, the day Captain Eustass Kid himself sauntered up to you. And you, meek as you were, had punched him right in the face for stepping on bouquet you’d dropped in shock at the sight of the pirates. 

He’d given you a wicked grin and thrown you over his shoulder, and that had been the end of it. My pretty pink tulip, he had asked you later on, won’t you join my crew? He had seen the dog in you despite your family’s insistence you were a good girl with quite a few respectable marriage proposals you were considering. 

He had seen the fight in your eyes, the yearning for a life free from all constraints- well, except maybe a pair of metal cuffs around your wrists when he had you naked in his bed, that leopard-print blanket tangled around your sweaty legs. 

“Are you sure you want me to do it?” He teased further, reaching beneath your oversized leather jacket and tweaking your nipples through your thin shirt, feeling them harden beneath his touch. “I wouldn’t want to make you cry.”

You knew what he was doing, challenging you, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from rising to the occasion. “I can handle it.” 

Kid grinned. “Of course you can, spider.” Another nickname of his, one you rolled your eyes at but wished he never stopped calling you. “Let’s find some pretty barbells in town, and then I’ll take care of you.” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[hiddenincommand]

The Apex of Authority: The Unrelenting Power of Fall-Fronted Leather Breeches

In the unassailable hierarchy of dominance, power is not merely an attribute—it is an absolute state of being, a force that consumes and commands. Fall-fronted leather breeches are not garments; they are emblems of an Alpha’s supremacy, molded exclusively for the one who leads with an iron will. Only a true Alpha, unyielding and devoid of weakness, is worthy to wear them. For these breeches do not accept mediocrity; they repel it, scorning any lesser being who dares to even dream of such privilege. To suggest that a coward, a faggot, or a lesser creature might adorn these symbols of absolute power is not just laughable—it is a crime that warrants immediate and merciless correction.

The Infallible Fall Front: A Weapon of Readiness

The most defining feature of these breeches, the fall front, is a testament to the Alpha’s unparalleled control. It is a barrier that both conceals and grants access, an instrument that exists solely for the master’s command. The Alpha, who always goes commando, requires no hindrance when the moment arises to exert his will over those who submit to him. The fall front opens with ease, a seamless, calculated act that signifies readiness—an Alpha is never caught off guard, never waiting, always poised to claim what is his, whenever and wherever he chooses. To witness this act is to understand one’s position: under his power, bound by his dominance.

The breeches are not designed for comfort or frivolous indulgence; they are built for supremacy, engineered to remind both the Alpha and his submissives that the power to take and command is ever-present. When the fall front yields, it does so to reveal authority in its rawest form. It signals that the Alpha is prepared to demonstrate his dominance with brutal efficiency, a display that leaves no room for defiance or doubt.

Leather: The Second Skin of Supremacy

The leather is chosen with purpose—thick enough to command respect, supple enough to move with the precision of its master. It encases the Alpha’s body like a second skin, polished to a gleaming surface that reflects the eyes of those daring enough to gaze upon it. Each step taken, each shift of the leather, serves as an audible warning: the one who commands these breeches is a being whose authority is absolute, whose dominance cannot be challenged.

The cut is unforgiving, accentuating the strength of the Alpha’s form with meticulous detail. The flared hips and tailored seams are not mere aesthetic choices; they are statements, declarations that scream power and masculinity. The breeches adhere to the Alpha’s thighs and flanks, reinforcing every sinew of strength, every movement a reminder that the man within them is poised to take what he desires without delay or compromise.

The Symbolism of Command and Consequence

Statistically, only an infinitesimal fraction of men would dare even to touch fall-fronted leather breeches, and among them, the number who could wear them as they were intended—as the weapon of an Alpha—falls to near null. These breeches do not tolerate pretenders. They are a tool of subjugation, a declaration that the man wearing them holds the power to break and dominate without hesitation. They are built to reject weakness and to punish the insolence of any lesser creature who might dream themselves worthy.

The fall front is not merely an accessory; it is a strategic element of control. It opens only by the Alpha’s hand, a gesture of dominance that renders the submissive powerless. This act is not just symbolic; it is an assertion of superiority—an Alpha can take what he commands, whether in private chambers or in an open display of supremacy. The world conforms to his will, not the other way around.

A Relentless Display of Readiness

These breeches, molded to the Alpha’s form, serve a singular purpose: to broadcast unchallenged readiness and superiority. When the fall front opens, it reveals more than flesh; it reveals an indomitable spirit, a readiness to act and claim in a manner that is unmistakable and absolute. The Alpha does not hesitate; he dominates. The breeches enable this seamless execution of power, ensuring that when he decides to take his subs, there is nothing in his path—no barrier, no delay. The sub understands their place beneath him, knowing that the command can be delivered with unflinching immediacy.

Personal Command from Sir Cedric:

These breeches are not mere clothing; they are a forged testament of my command, an emblem that signifies who dominates and who is subjugated. The fall front is mine to open, revealing my authority whenever I choose, asserting a power that knows no restraint. Let no lesser man, no coward or unworthy creature, dare to approach this garment as anything but an object of their own submission and inferiority. The Alpha wears these breeches as a warning and a promise: he is always ready, always capable, and those in his presence are there to serve or be forgotten. To question this, to entertain even a whisper of imitation, is to invite an unyielding reminder of one’s place—at the mercy of the true master.

[celebtf]

THE NEW PRINCE, HOOK

Under the night-cover, Hook seeked out the witch who was hiding in the outskirts of town. Her lair was a maze of twisted roots and flickering candles, and the air was thick with the scent of herbs.

"I need a potion," Hook demanded, his voice edged with desperation. "One that will let me swap lives with another."

The witch, her eyes glinting with joyfull glee, made a potion with ingredients known only to her dark arts. "This will do the trick," she said, handing Hook a vial of swirling, iridescent liquid. "But be warned, such magic comes with consequences."

Hook didn't care about consequences. All he wanted was to live the life of a hero, to be adored as Prince Charming was. That night, during a grand banquet in the prince's honor, Hook found his chance. He slipped the potion into Charming's drink, his heart pounding with anticipation.

As the potion took effect, a strange sensation overcame them both. Hook felt his body shift, his very essence being pulled and stretched. A violent surge ran through him, as if his bones were melting and reforming all at once. His skin tingled and burned, muscles twitching uncontrollably. He clutched the edge of a table to steady himself, his vision blurring as the room spun around him.

He looked down to see his hand, once rough and scarred from years at sea, smoothing out, the skin becoming fair and un-scared His fingers lengthened, becoming more elegant and refined. He felt his face contorting, bones cracking and rearranging. His jawline softened, the rugged stubble that had always marked his chin receding until his skin was smooth. His nose narrowed, cheekbones rising higher beneath his eyes.

His hair, once dark lightened to a golden color, the strands growing softer and more luxurious. He felt his body stretch taller, his posture straightening from the familiar pirate’s slouch to the proud and straight posture of a prince. His clothes, rough and worn, transformed into fine, royal garments, rich with intricate embroidery and vibrant colors.

Across the room, Charming experienced a similar torment. His handsome, noble features twisted and warped. His golden hair darkened, becoming a tangled mess of black curls. His clean-shaven face grew rough with stubble, his jawline becoming sharper, more angular. His muscular frame shrank slightly, becoming leaner.

His royal attire morphed into the rugged, leather-clad outfit of a pirate. The new elegance of a prince went away. He looked down at his hand, now rough and scared, a pirate’s hook replacing where his left hand used to be.

When it was over, Hook, now in Charming’s body, looked at his reflection in a polished silver goblet. He saw not the feared pirate, but the beloved prince. A big grin spread across his face. He was now Prince Charming, and the real prince, trapped in Hook's form, stared back at him in horror.

The transformation was seamless. No one suspected a thing. Hook reveled in his new life, soaking in the adoration and respect that had always been out of reach. He performed heroic deeds, courted the beautiful Snow White, and lived a life of luxury and honor.

Meanwhile, the real Prince Charming, now in Hook's body, faced a grim fate. Labeled as the notorious pirate, he was swiftly arrested and thrown into the town jail. His protests of innocence fell, for who would believe the words of a pirate like Hook?

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Hook, living as Charming, found joy in every stolen moment of his sad new life. He had no regrets, only a deep satisfaction. For him, there was no need for a happy ending beyond this—the life he had coveted was now his, and he intended to keep it that way.

As for the real Prince Charming, bored in a cold, dark cell, hope seemed a distant memory. The town had moved on, and so had Hook, leaving Charming to rot in the misery of a fate that was never meant to be his.

And so, the tale concluded not with a happy ending, but with a cruel twist of fate—Captain Hook living the life of Prince Charming, while the true prince languished in obscurity, a prisoner of envy and dark magic.

[hero21us]

The Golden Run

To ensure its dominance on the pitch the Golden Army trains every day and night no matter the weather. New recruit @ambrosegold49 begins his 10K.

The gold shorts and shirt he wears sparkle in the streetlights. Rain begins to pour down, creating a symphony of droplets on the pavement. Ambrose, clad in his shiny gold shorts and shirt, becomes a beacon in the storm, his vibrant attire contrasting sharply against the grey, rainy backdrop. Ambrose's shirt and shorts cling tightly to every every muscle and curve, the gold radiating brighter and brighter.

As Ambrose ran, he saw another figure approaching from the opposite direction. This man, Jax, was walking calmly, seemingly unbothered by the rain that soaked his clothes. As they neared each other, Ambrose couldn't help but smile—a simple gesture that spoke volumes.

Jax, captivated by the golden figure running towards him, felt a spark. When Ambrose passed him with that friendly smile, something clicked inside Jax. The golden God noticed him, was calling to him. Without a second thought, he turned and began to run, matching Ambrose's pace.

Seeing Jax running behind him, drenched from the rain, Ambrose felt a surge of empathy. Having recently been converted to gold himself, Ambrose, knew the overwhelming attraction and need to become one with gold. Without breaking his stride, he swiftly pulled off his shiny gold shirt and tossed it back to Jax. Jax caught it mid-air, a bit surprised but grateful. He quickly put it on, feeling a strange connection as the rain continued to pour down on them.

As Jax pulled on the golden shirt, a warmth spread across his skin, contrasting with the cool, relentless rain. The fabric was smooth and almost otherworldly, clinging comfortably to his body while shimmering under the dim, rain-soaked light. It felt like wearing a piece of the sun, radiating an energizing glow that seemed to seep into his very being.

The moment the shirt settled on him, Jax felt an unexpected surge of power coursing through his veins. It was as if the golden garment had a life of its own, infusing him with a newfound strength and determination. His senses sharpened, the rhythm of his heartbeat synchronized with the pounding raindrops around him, each step feeling lighter and more purposeful.

Jax felt a curious tingling sensation. To his amazement, he watched as his drenched jeans began to transform. The fabric seemed to shimmer and ripple, gradually morphing into sleek gold running shorts that matched Ambrose's attire. The transformation was smooth and seamless, as if the magic of the shirt extended to whatever it touched.

The newly transformed shorts were lightweight and perfectly tailored, allowing Jax to move with unprecedented ease and agility. The rain, once a hindrance, now felt invigorating against his golden ensemble, enhancing his every movement.

With every stride, Jax felt the power of the gold shirt and shorts combining, propelling him forward with a newfound swiftness.

With the golden shirt now shimmering on Jax, the two men ran side by side, their breaths synchronizing, the rain around them almost like a protective veil from the rest of the world.

Running beside Ambrose, Jax sensed a profound connection growing between them, as if their shared golden attire bound their fates together.

They pushed through the storm together, each step drawing them closer to an unspoken bond. As they ran, the city seemed to blur past them, the rain washing away everything except the path they forged together. They didn't need words; the simple act of running in unison, in gold, was enough to communicate volumes.

Their synchronized steps carried them through the rain-soaked city, . The shimmering gold of their clothes seemed to cast a radiant glow, lighting their way through the dusky evening.

As they neared the football stadium, the air buzzed with anticipation. The vast, empty structure loomed ahead, but it wasn't desolate for long. Gradually, figures began to emerge from the shadows, each one clad in the same gleaming gold.

The Golden Army, as they called themselves, stood in formation, their reflective uniforms shining brightly under the stadium lights. They moved in unison, their presence a testament to strength, unity, and an unbreakable spirit. As Ambrose and Jax approached, the members of the Golden Army parted to create a welcoming path.

Ambrose smiled at Jax, his eyes filled with pride and encouragement. "Welcome to the Golden Army," he said, his voice carrying a tone of camaraderie and warmth.

Jax felt an overwhelming sense of belonging as he stepped forward. The journey, which began as a solitary walk through the rain, had brought him to this incredible moment. The Golden Army greeted him with open arms, their collective energy surging through the group, filling Jax with a sense of purpose.

[fafnir19]

Hunter Prince

As the youngest prince, I am often belittled, ridiculed, and scorned. My elder brothers, Haas and Rego, are exemplary warriors, while I, Prince Almir, am but a mere shadow in their presence. The king, too, has often expressed his disappointment in me, though he does so subtly, through concerned glances and exasperated sighs. One fateful day, a group of entertainers graced the castle with their presence, and amid their act, they unfolded a tale of Princess Naja, bewitched by an evil sorceress and earmarked for marriage to the fearsome wizard, Zarik. Her plight ignited a fire within me—the chance to prove my worth, not just to my family, but to myself. Stealing away from the castle, I embarked on a journey to rescue the fair Princess Naja.

Many trials beset me, but eventually, I arrived at the sorceress's tower, where Naja was imprisoned high above, seemingly out of reach. I approached Naja, hoping for her wisdom and guidance. Much to my surprise, she revealed her secret knowledge of the sorceress's books. She disclosed the conditions for my success: "Capture the black unicorn and fashion boots from its untamable hide; Slay the black wolf and forge a cape from its impenetrable fur; Snare the black falcon and equip your garments with its swift feathers." With Naja's aid, and a stolen magical ring from the sorceress, I would then transform into these creatures. As a falcon, I would soar into the tower, transform into a wolf to subdue the sorceress, and flee with Naja upon the back of the unicorn.

The challenges before me seemed insurmountable, but with cunning and skill, I succeeded in each task. The garments were fashioned, the magical ring obtained.

As a falcon, I soared into the sky, riding the winds as they carried me closer to the lofty prison where Naja awaited her liberation. My heart pounded, and the adrenaline coursed through my veins as I approached the tower, ready to confront the sorceress and seize my chance to rescue the princess. "Naja, I'm here," I called out in a silent hum, the only sound that carried from my avian form. From the tower, her voice echoed back, laced with an urgency that spurred me onward. "Almir, be swift. Transform into the wolf when you arrive. We must act before the sorceress intervenes." My feathers ruffled with determination, and with a steely resolve, I executed the seamless transition into a formidable wolf. As I approached the tower, the door swung open with a gust of chilling wind, and I bounded forth to confront the sorceress. But as I advanced, ready to confront the wicked enchantress, the sight that greeted me struck with the force of a thunderbolt. It was not the sorceress who stood before me, but a figure much more imposing. It was the wizard Zarik, his eyes gleaming with power and malice. I snarled and attacked, but before I could even reach him, Zarik swiftly subdued me with a collar and muzzle.

Naja stepped forward with a sinister smile, holding the magical ring. "Oh, Almir," she said with false sweetness. "I knew you would be the perfect addition to our little family." Naja's laughter filled the tower, a chilling sound that sent shivers down my spine. "You see, Almir, love can make one do many things. And my love for Zarik knows no bounds." She kissed Zarik and presented him with the magical ring. "This will be the perfect wedding gift for you, my dear." With a sinking feeling, I realized that the true love story was not between Princess Naja and I, but between her and the dark wizard Zarik. I desperately asked: "What is the meaning of this? Naja, I thought you were—" "Silence, Almir," Zarik commanded, his voice laced with an undercurrent of dark power that sent shivers down my spine. "You will come with us, and you will learn the consequences of meddling in matters beyond your understanding." As I stood there, rendered helpless and captive, the reality of the situation began to sink in. I had been tricked, betrayed, and now I was at the mercy of the very adversaries I had sought to thwart.

Just as despair threatened to consume me, Zarik's voice cut through the suffocating silence. "Almir, you are no longer who you once were. From now on, you shall be known as Hunter, my loyal companion." I blinked in confusion, my mind reeling from the sudden turn of events. "Hunter? What do you mean?" Zarik's eyes held a chilling glint as he explained, "You possess remarkable potential, Hunter, and I will decide which form you will take—whether it is the unicorn for its speed, the wolf for its prowess in hunting, the falcon for its keen sight, or the human form for its cunning and intelligence." A dreadful realization dawned on me as the truth sank in. I was now at Zarik's mercy, bound to his will and stripped of my former identity. As Hunter, I had become a mere tool in the hands of a powerful wizard and a deceitful princess. Defeated and captive, I could only wonder what fate awaited me at the hands of the sorceress and the powerful wizard.

The days melded into an existence I had never fathomed, where loyalty was my only currency. Zarik, my captor turned master, reveled in his newfound "wedding gift," parading me like a prized possession. I accompanied him everywhere, adopting the form he desired, whether human, unicorn, wolf, or falcon.

His training was relentless, intended not just to hone my hunting skills, but to break my spirit. "Good, Hunter," Zarik murmured, as I successfully tracked our prey through the dense forest. "I see great potential in you." Potential for what? I often pondered, but all that escaped my lips, in any form, were feigned grunts of acquiescence. One evening, as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Zarik and I found ourselves in the great hall, partaking in a goblet of wine each. Naja appeared, cloaked in allure as always, her gaze flitting between us with a glimmer of malice. "Ah, Naja, my love," Zarik said, rising from his seat. "Have you come to admire our progress?" Naja's laugh echoed like silver bells, belying the darkness that swirled within her. "Indeed, Zarik. It's impressive how you've transformed Almir into such a useful companion." Useful? I snarled inwardly, my human form concealed by the boundary of silence I had resigned to. Zarik stepped closer to Naja, his eyes alight with fervor. "He has proven to be a valuable asset, indeed. His loyalty knows no bounds, just as yours." Naja's lips curled into a wry smirk, and I could almost taste the bitterness of my own plight. "Hunter, isn't it?" She addressed me as if I were naught but a hound. "Yes," Zarik affirmed with a glint in his eye, seeing his handiwork unfold. "His transformation is quite remarkable, wouldn't you agree?" I clenched my fists, hidden beneath the guise of human semblance, the wine in my goblet forgotten as their sinister exchange unfolded before me.

Naja approached, her ethereal beauty masking the venomous intent within. "Impressive, indeed," she purred, her fingers trailing along my arm as if I were no more than a weapon at their disposal. I recoiled internally, stifling the violent impulse to lash out. Trapped within my own facade, I could only endure their twisted charade. The moon ascended high into the night as the hour grew late. Zarik and Naja bid each other farewell, entwining in a passionate embrace, leaving me to my thoughts. However, their parting words, laced with veiled intentions, lingered in the air like a thick mist. As they departed, Naja spared me a glance, her gaze cutting through my facade with cruel clarity. "Be sure to join us on our special night, Hunter," she taunted. "After all, you are an essential part of our union." With that, the door closed behind them, leaving me to confront the turmoil churning within. I had become nothing more than a pawn in their treacherous design, a far cry from the prince I once was. The night crept on as I wrestled with the shackles that bound me, both physical and emotional. Eventually, the fateful hour arrived, cloaked in a darkness that mirrored the despair in my heart. I approached the grand chamber, the weight of my captivity bearing down upon me. The door creaked as I entered, my footsteps echoing through the chamber. Zarik and Naja reclined upon the grand bed, their eyes gleaming with a sinister glimmer. My presence, a silent reminder of their triumph, did nothing to dampen their unholy revelry. "Ah, Hunter," Zarik beckoned, his voice laced with a cruel edge. "Come, fulfill your duty as my loyal companion."

My stomach churned, repulsed by the spectacle before me, but even in my agony, I dared not defy their command. I assumed the form of the wolf and lay beside their bed, a silent sentinel on their unholy union. As the night waned, a haunting realization seeped into my very being—I had sacrificed not only my freedom, but also my dignity, on the altar of their dark desires. The weight of my sorrow threatened to consume me whole, and the hollow echoes of their laughter reverberated through the chamber, mocking my entrapment. In the depths of that chamber, I, the once proud Prince Almir, lay bound by chains unseen, ensnared in a web of cruelty spun by those I once sought to rescue. The night waned into dawn, casting an ethereal glow upon the shadows that enveloped me, and in that ephemeral light, a flicker of defiance kindled within me. Though my captivity had robbed me of many things, it could not extinguish the ember of resilience burning within. As the first light of dawn breached the horizon, I vowed to reclaim not just my freedom, but also the honor that had been callously stripped away. In the hushed embrace of that chamber, I plotted my emancipation from the clutches of their malevolent design, forging a resolve to defy their expectations and emerge from the darkness, a prince no longer in name alone, but in spirit and will.

[3ofpents]

Fresno Nightcrawler Houndstooth // Fabric Design for @shapeshiftersvt and The Cryptid Collection

Remember way back a few weeks ago when I posted the Squonk poster and I said that once I'd designed the fabric to go along with it I'd start posting the fabric designs here? Well guess what! It's time!

For those who don't remember or who didn't know, I am the co-owner, site manager, and graphic designer for @shapeshiftersvt. 2024 marks our 10th anniversary and we wanted to do something big and special and new to mark the occasion and my partner, co-owner, head tailor, fashion designer, and founder, Eli, pitched a fashion line themed around cryptids. We call it The Cryptid Collection and it features six of our and the internet's favorite cryptids: The Fresno Nightcrawler, Mothman, the Jackalope, the Jersey Devil, Champ, and the Squonk.

My parts of the collection were designing the posters, and creating fabric designs for our very own, truly Shapeshifters designed chest binders and sports bras. But since we utilized Spoonflower to have those fabrics printed, they're also available through the Spoonflower marketplace for anyone to buy for their own sewing projects.

And now that all of the fabric designs are done and uploaded and proofed and listed, I, as promised, am posting them here to talk a bit more in-depth about them, the thoughts and inspirations behind them, and the design process.

Starting with the Fresno Nightcrawler.

Part of the reason I'm starting with the Fresno Nightcrawler is because this was the very first design that I finished. When we were planning out the fabrics, it was the most solid design concept I had that wasn't just adapting the poster design to fabric (mostly because ... I hadn't done the poster yet). It was the first one I really came up with, the one I was most excited about, and the one that pretty much stayed the same from concept to execution.

I love houndstooth. Which is weird to say when I don't think I've ever owned a single garment or accessory in with a houndstooth pattern? But I do, I love it. I love the teeny tiny classic version of the pattern; I love a blown-up graphic version of the pattern; I love plays and variations on it. So when I was trying to brainstorm what kind of fabric pattern I could make inspired by a creature with such a simple shape whose only colors were white and black, the idea came pretty quickly: A houndstooth. Or a Nightcrawlertooth, if you will. It was a trick, though, and a real learning experience, especially with this being my first design.

Getting a pattern to repeat smoothly is a skill unto itself. Basically you have what's called a tile, and the tile contains the part of the pattern that you want to repeat. Then, when your pattern is created, the original tile just gets essentially copy-pasted over and over so 1) you don't have to draw the whole yard of fabric, and 2)all of the repeated parts of the design are identical. But by doing it this way, you have seams you need to take into consideration. If you think of putting the pattern together, it's sort of like making a basic quilt: You start with one square (or rectangle), then attach four more squares to each side, and then just keep doing that. Each one of those seams (top, bottom, left, right) is a place where the pattern might not match up, which means when it's applied to a yard of fabric, it's not going to look like a smooth, seamless pattern.

Of course there's ways to avoid this altogether. If you're doing a simple stripe, using the line tool in your drawing software will keep your stripe a consistent thickness, and holding SHIFT while you draw it will keep the line straight. Or, even easier, you can create a pattern where the part that repeats doesn't straddle a seam; like a polkadot pattern, where the dot(s) can be centered on the tile and seams only cut through a solid background.

The trouble with a houndstooth, though, is that not only does the tile need to repeat, it's made up of repeating figures that interlock. I can't just center the white Nightcrawler on the tile and call it a day, because then the black Nightcrawler straddles the seam. On top of that, they needed to be shaped in such a way that the negative space between the white Nightcrawlers left a shape that was also recognizable as a Nightcrawler and similar enough to the white one that the pattern is mostly seamless.

I fully admit that I was not able to do this on my own. Enter: Eli. Eli is, among other things, a math nerd who enjoys an excuse to break out the graph paper. They found a tutorial online and got to graphing and shaping and, in just a couple of hours, had gotten the shapes down. I took that tile, illustrated it, cleaned up the seams (shoutout to Eli for also finding an easier way to do this than just manually copy-pasting), and voila! A Fresno Nightcrawler houndstooth.

Now, you might look at that image up there and say, "Well that's all well and good, Pents, but they're kind of blobby and the lines are wobbly and it's all a little uneven." To which I say ... yeah, that's true. It's also kind of intentional. Like, I'm not gonna sit here and claim I got the basic pattern done and wasn't exhausted. But also I could've left it and come back to it the next day to clean up the lines and shapes a bit more, make everything really smooth and even. But, like. Look at this guy.

He's just a weird kinda blobby little dude. So I left the pattern kinda weird and blobby.

Even if I'd cleaned it, it's such a blobby little shape that's so at odds with the classic houndstooth that's all straight lines and sharp angles. So I made a deliberate choice to not polish it up. To kind of lean into the kodama vibes:

I am really so so proud of and pleased with this design. It came out almost exactly how I pictured it; it was really the most true design collaboration between Eli and I; and I'm just so pleased, after a lifetime of being a houndstooth lover, to now also have designed a houndstooth.

If you'd like a custom-sized, handmade, made-to-order binder or sports bra in this houndstooth like the one in the photos, you can find those listings (as well as the poster listing) here, on the Shapeshifters website. There are three pattern size options, the classic teeny tiny version; a somewhat bigger medium size; and a super graphic large size. Our binders are the most comfortable and effective on the market thanks to our finely graded internal sizing system. Because we're a small operation that makes every garment to order, both our binders and sports bras are highly customizable, and can be made to ALL measurements with flat pricing across sizes.

If you'd like to purchase the fabric yourself for your own sewing projects, you can order it through our Spoonflower shop, where we have it listed in the same three pattern sizes.

[professorpski]

“Soon the knitter herself will visualize a thousand of other ways in which a motif can be used, and so fave at her disposal an exhaustible variety of fabrics. Thick fabrics or thin fabrics, patterned fabrics or plain fabrics, those blazing in colour or decorated with beads, she can make fabric imitated fur (Looped Knitting), Lace, Picot, Filet, or Crochet, and even cloque and woven fabric, by a mere change of technique. Every ornament known to dressmaking can be imitated, even hemstitching and buttons!”

When Mary Thomas wrote this in 1945 in Mary Thomas’s Book of Knitting Patterns when dressmaking was the most common craft women learned. Circular knitting, which she called seamless knitting, was viewed as peasant knitting, interesting historically, but not something most women likely to do. So, comparing knitting to dressmaking was a compliment. In fact, sewing pieces of knitted fabric was taken for granted and Thomas offered the same garment block or garment schematic that we see in dressmaking in the section explaining how to plan an entirely original sweater.

Similarly, Thomas urged her the reader to imagine new ways of patterning a knitted fabric through her choice of stitches. Every section of the book suggests how variations might be introduced to the stitches she explains. She valued the experimentation and imagination which created the stitches she taught and clearly saw yet more to be invented.

You can find this and other Thomas books at Dover Publications: https://store.doverpublications.com/0486228185.html

[vriskasays]

haii!!! im rlly interested in where you got the garments and parts for your kanaya cosplay. the outfit looks rlly good and ig im just looking for clothes like that so if you could point me in the direction of a shop that sells that kind of stuff thatd be great !! :D also ur rlly pretty and i love your cosplays theyre so cool !!

lmao so funny story.

outer satin top w symbol: hand sewn beads on butchered thrift store top. beads are from a broken bracelet my gramma gave me. had to chop the back up then pin it together with the safetypin-hairtie-safetypin manuver bcs it is maybe 10 sizestoo small

translucent black flowy top/skirt-like garment: bathing suit cover, pieces thrifted separately but from same source somehow

red top underneath: thrift store, butchered neckline. had to also pin this up in the back

red cross black velvet skirt: base thrifted, butchered/burnt/painted w fabric paint. birthday gift from my brother 3-4 years ago

rosary: thrifted, broken as fuck

cross earrings: crosses found on etsy, put on hoop earrings by me

silver hoops: thrifted a whole pack of them og from claires a while back. Score!

green large shiny decora earrings: thrifted

boots: 6yo clearance mens demonias, broke in the middle of this cosplay. had these bitches since i was 16!!!! 30$

corset: some cheap crap from amazon i got a few years back ill wear until i can afford an orchardcorset or it breaks entirely. cannot stress enough how much i do not reccomend wearing cheap corsets

contacts: i thiiink ifairy cara green. uniqso. tip: colored contacts absolutely make or break a cosplay. good to splurge on

makeup: everything green via eyeshadow/lipstick made by me. slowly in the process of formulating all my makeup bcs im very allergic to everything. black eyeliner is nyx, one pencil one felt tip. used on eyebrows/lips too. dont bother w lipliners/eyebrow products they r expensive and eyeliner/eyeshadow works perfectly well.

eyelashes: top were from local beauty supply, bottom lashes were like. wet n wild crap i got from a relative that i chopped up.

gray paint: mehron paradise, get it from the OG website if u dont need it quickly and want it a lil cheaper

fangs: cheap amazon bullshit. u can find fangs in bulk anywhere there no matter the seller theyre all from the same manufacturer so u always know ur getting cheap fucking crap

wig: CHEAP lace front from some beauty store clearance bin in DC, styled to hell and back

horns: made by meeee (model magic + modge podge/plaster outrecoat bcs model magic cracks like a bitch, i only use the low tier acrylics bcs who the fuck is gonna pay 20$ for a tube of something u can just layer a few times to get opaque)

armsocks: welovecolors (spraypainted w white cos i bought the dark gray instead if light gray like a dumbass, heavily abused). i highly reccomend welovecolors seamless armsock/seamless bodysuit line im trying to get their bodysuit at some point. expensive (45$ for the socks, 90$ for the bodysuit) but worth it bcos homemade armsocks rip stupid easily and id rather break my skull than paint my hands.

nails: cheap shit from sallys, painted w my mommas 10+ year old nail polish collection

i think thats it? yeah. its all cheap crap. all i can reccomend is find a local non-chain non-christianity based thrift store and go to town man . im not out here buying premade bullshit that i aint able to make myself! i dont ever spend a fortune on my cosplays. i find scarcity is key in innovation and creativity. use lots of safety pins. cheers.

oyea her wedding ring my nanna gave me when i was like. 12? it could be real onyx/gold but it could also be costume jcpennys shit. who knows

[secularprolifeconspectus]

so if you care so much about life, do you support the palestinians who are actively going through a genocide right now? what about the sudanese, who are also experiencing a genocide? or congolese…which, you probably guessed it: also going through a genocide. do you support them? have you done anything to help?

better yet, have you done anything to help anyone not in-utero? participating in community efforts to help children and mothers, helping the poor, etc?

First of all, being pro-life simply means being against abortion. We all know this. You don't have to be in support of anything life-saving to be against life-ending. However, there is an entire movement dedicated to consistently advocating for life and opposing violence called the Consistent Life Ethic (CLE) movement, and it's been around since the 1970s.

Juli Loesch is a big founder of that movement. But Carol Crossed is also a pillar. I would say Dan Berrigan, Dorothy Day, and Dolores Huerta were also all in that movement. So is my mentor, John Cavanaugh-O'Keefe.

Some historic groups of the movement include Pro-Lifers for Survival, National Youth Pro-Life Coalition, Common Ground of Upstate NY, and the Seamless Garment Network. Current groups include Consistent Life Network, Feminists Choosing Life of NY, New Wave Feminists, and Rehumanize International.

Rehumanize, in particular, is VERY pro-Palestine. I just went to their conference, where they had a Nakba survivor speak. Their magazine, Life Matters Journal, has also posted many articles in support of Palestine.

I already made posts about Palestine here, here, and here. Personally, I think in order to be consistently opposed to genocide in the womb, I think we must oppose the violence in Palestine. I think there's lots of other good reasons to oppose zionism and settler-colonialism in general, but specifically for pro-lifers, we should see abortion by bomb as just as evil as abortion by other weapons.

What have I done to help? Here's me (the pro-lifer interviewed), marching and speaking out nationally against the genocide in Palestine. I've gone to multiple marches in DC, Atlanta, and Chicago for Palestine, put my body on the line, and used my platform to call for an end to genocides across the world. I've signed petitions and made calls to my representatives. I've raised awareness and shared the horrors. I've witnessed and grieved with the people.

I definitely do solidarity and charity work outside of pro-life activism. I was a bike marshal in Black Lives Matter, a tenant organizer for the COVID Rent Strike, I helped start a mutual aid effort in which we taught kids to build bicycles in exchange for a free bike, and I refurbished broken bicycles to give out for free to poor people who needed transportation to their jobs. I also generally advocate for policies I believe would help improve parenting.

And you would know all of this, had you taken the time to actually read through my blog. I post the FAQs and table of contents for a reason. Hope this was informative tho.

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 39, vol. 23, 29 septembre 1901, Paris. 3. Vêtements et costumes tailleur. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

I. Robe en drap parchemin et taffetas blanc, composée d’une jupe cerclée de plusieurs rangs de piqùres et d’un corsage-veste avec dos à couture, petit côté de dos et de devant et d’un devant ajusté par une pince, fermé par des petits nœuds de velours et légèrement ouvert du haut, laissant voir un plastron de taffetas encadré de revers garnis de piqûres. Col rabattu avec piqûres ainsi que le bas de la veste qui forme ceinture-corselet. Manches à deux coutures terminées par un revers piqué.

I. Dress in parchment cloth and white taffeta, composed of a skirt circled with several rows of stitching and a bodice-jacket with a seam back, small side of the back and front and a front fitted with a dart, closed with small velvet bows and slightly open at the top, revealing a taffeta plastron framed by lapels trimmed with stitching. Turned-down collar with stitching as well as the bottom of the jacket which forms a belt-corselet. Sleeves with two seams finished with a stitched lapel.

—

Mat.: 6 mèt. de drap, 0 m. 25 de taffetas.

II. Vêtement en drap gris cendre de forme sac orné d’une jolie broderie faite à même. Dos sans couture et devant sans pince fermé au milieu par une sous-patte. Manches à deux coutures ouvertes sur un bouffant de drap brodé. Chapeau en feutre orné d’une draperie de taffetas et d’une plume fantaisie.

II. Garment in ash gray cloth in the shape of a bag decorated with pretty embroidery made on the same. Seamless back and front without a dart closed in the middle by a flap. Sleeves with two seams open on a bouffant of embroidered cloth. Felt hat decorated with a taffeta drapery and a fancy feather.

Mat.: 4 mèt. de drap.

—

III. Robe en drap mousseline rouge indien. La jupe est plissée à petits plis lingerie cerclée de trois biais, garnie de plusieurs piqûres. Le boléro est fait d’un dos d’une seule pièce et d’un devant croisé traversé par un entre-deux de guipure encadré de biais piqués; même garniture encadrant le décolleté. Petit plastron de mousseline de soie légèrement mouvementé et surmonté d’un col drapé. Manches à deux coutures garnies de trois biais piqués.

III. Dress in Indian red muslin cloth. The skirt is pleated with small lingerie pleats circled with three biases, trimmed with several stitches. The bolero is made of a single-piece back and a crossed front crossed by a guipure inset framed with stitched biases; same trim framing the neckline. Small slightly turbulent silk muslin plastron topped with a draped collar. Two-seam sleeves trimmed with three stitched biases.

Mat. 7 mèt. de drap, 0 m. 50 de mousseline de soie.

—

IV. Vêtement de forme sac en drap havane. Dos et devant plissés à gros plis ronds sur un empiècement plat. Le pli du milieu remonte à l’encolure et dissimule la fermeture. L’empiècement est recouvert de trois collets passant sous le pli. Manches d’une seule pièce, de forme blouse serrées dans un poignet garni d’applications de velours; même garniture sur les plis. Chapeau en feutre orné d’une draperie en louisine retenant une palme fantaisie.

IV. Bag-shaped garment in Havana cloth. Back and front pleated with large round pleats on a flat yoke. The middle pleat rises to the neckline and conceals the closure. The yoke is covered with three collars passing under the pleat. One-piece sleeves, blouse-shaped, tightened in a cuff trimmed with velvet applications; same trim on the pleats. Felt hat decorated with louisine drapery holding a fancy palm.

Mat.: 5 mèt. de drap.

—

V. Vêtement genre collet de forme ample, en drap noir recouvert de soutache gracieusement disposée et bordé d’une frange-boule. Col rabattu. Ce vêtement, ajusté aux épaules par des pinces, est doublé de soie fantaisie. Toquet drapé en mousseline de soie, orné d’une plume pailletée.

V. Loose-fitting collar-type garment in black cloth covered with gracefully arranged soutache and edged with a ball fringe. Turned-down collar. This garment, fitted at the shoulders with darts, is lined with fancy silk. Draped silk muslin cap, decorated with a sequined feather.

Mat.: 2 m. 50 de drap.

—

VI. Robe en drap rouge pivoine, taffetas noir et taffetas â damiers rouge et noir. La jupe doublée est bordée d’un biais de taffetas noir; deux autres biais, encadrant le tablier, s’entrecroisent pour encadrer une application de taffetas à damiers. Le boléro, ayant la même garniture que la jupe, se compose d’un dos d’une seule pièce et d’un devant croisé découpé à créneaux bordés d’un biais. Col rabattu et bouffant de manche en taffetas.

VI. Dress in peony red cloth, black taffeta and red and black checkered taffeta. The lined skirt is edged with a bias of black taffeta; two other biases, framing the apron, intersect to frame an application of checkered taffeta. The bolero, having the same trim as the skirt, is composed of a single-piece back and a crossed front cut with crenellations edged with a bias. Turn-down collar and puffed sleeve in taffeta.

Mat.: 6 mèt. de drap, 3 mèt. de taffetas noir, 0 m. 75 de taffetas fantaisie.

—

(I). Fourrure en vison et loutre, formant petit collet avec étole. Col Médicis. — (II). Cravate en vison et martre. — (III). Cravate en martre agrémentée de plusieurs queues et de petites têtes.

(I). Mink and otter fur, forming a small collar with stole. Medici collar. — (II). Mink and marten tie. — (III). Marten tie decorated with several tails and small heads.

[firstprincehornyramblings]

🩺💊👑📝

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

LO PLEASE THIS IS SO MUCH

🩺 - Doctor Alex and Patient Henry

“Cute dog by the way,” the brunette hummed, sitting down in the free space beside Henry, “What’s his name, is he friendly?” “This is David,” Henry sniffled, smiling as he watched the pup hop down off bench and trot over to stand in front of the other man. One singular paw on Alex’s leg as David stretched up in search of scratches from new hands. “David? What the fuck is that?” Alex almost snorted, leaning down and using both hands to cover the pup in pets and rubs, “Hi there, David. Can you do my taxes? Is that why you’ve got a name like that?” “Oh hush, he’s named after Bowie,” the blond laughed weakly, wiping his nose on the back of a sleeve before shaking his head, “He likes you.” “Well, that’s actually cool, and I won’t keep bullying you,” Alex took a moment to look over Henry, smiling comfortingly as he kept rubbing David with both hands, “So, Henry, do you wanna tell me why you’re crying in the middle of a park?”

- 💊 - KissingChambers pwp

With an eye roll, and a smile, Marco looked fully back at the road, “So, sister, younger or older?” “Dead,” Elliot took another drag from that joint and cracked the car window to exhale the smoke, “But we were twins,” he added with a little cough. “Wait- what?” it took everything in Marco not to physically stop the car, “Was that a really fucking dark joke or are you serious?” “No, I’m serious. But I’d rather not get all emotional about it together if you don’t mind,” Elliot shrugged. “It happened like four years ago, it’s over. It’s sad but it’s over, tell me more about mini golf.” “Okay,” the curly haired man nearly whispered. “Uh so we get our clubs and our balls and we move through the course. This one has eighteen holes so.. yeah.” “What happens if I lose a ball?” “Uhm, then we can get another one.” “Sweet,” Elliot grinned, looking over after blowing smoke out of the car window again. “Want a hit before we get there?” “Uh no thanks I’m driving.” “You’re such a good boy,” the longer haired man deadpanned. He finished his joint and tossed the rest out before closing the window.

- 👑 - Prince's Consort Alex

“Why? What are you gonna do, throw me in a dungeon?” Alex snapped. “Far worse,” the blond whispered, before leaning in and brushing his lips over Alex’s. The touch was shockingly gentle, it caused the tension in Alex’s shoulders to immediately loosen. In spite of himself, he felt his head turn, nearly against his will, to brush his nose and lips back against Henry’s. Their breathing suddenly seemed as though it was loud enough to echo in Alex’s ears. The sound shifted to more like static as their mouths finally closed together. Henry’s lips were soft and plush, skin still slightly damp from washing his face. The kiss started slowly, exploring each other, tongues slipping between teeth carefully. Within literal seconds though, hands tangled in hair as their kiss turned starving. Teeth gnashing at lips, noses pressed squished into cheeks as the two men moved back toward the bed, stumbling through the clothes Alex had half on. Of course, Henry’s hands found those garments, pulling them entirely off shortly before they both fell into the bed once again.

- 📝 - Alex's Bisexual awakening

“Well,” Henry began, sighing as he prepared himself to give the performance of a lifetime, “Even if most of what you told me was… vastly inappropriate, I’m happy for you. Finding yourself can take time and can come about in the strangest of ways. I’m glad it was a rather seamless transition for you, and I hope you two have a successful and long relationship.” “Do you have a boyfriend?” Alex asked, “I don’t think I’d never mentioned it, I mean you didn’t. Wait, you are gay, right? This is going to be really awkward if you’re n-” “Yes, I am gay,” Henry nodded, “And no, I do not have a boyfriend, but I be-” “Why not? You’re like super hot.” “But I believe,” the blond began again, “It is best if we keep this relationship professional and work related,” he nodded before picking up his cup of tea to sip- even if he couldn’t do so without mentally noting how he held his mouth while he did.

thank you though honey, i wrote a fucking ton<333

[hiddenincommand]

The Leather Overcoat: The Cloak of Command

In the Alpha’s arsenal of refinement and authority, the leather overcoat occupies a unique and commanding position. It is more than just an article of clothing; it is a symbol of dominance, power, and presence—an extension of the Alpha himself. With its weight, tailored precision, and undeniable aesthetic, the leather overcoat envelops the Alpha in an aura of calculated menace and controlled mastery. Every fold of the coat, every seam, and every button is deliberate, communicating unspoken authority to all who stand in his presence.

This essay explores the role of the leather overcoat as the Alpha’s cloak of command: its historical significance, its function as a statement of power, and its psychological impact on those who witness its imposing silhouette.

The History of the Leather Overcoat

The leather overcoat’s origins are rooted in military and equestrian traditions, where durability, practicality, and presence were paramount. Worn by officers, commanders, and aristocrats alike, the coat was designed not only to withstand harsh climates and environments but also to project strength and leadership.

1. Military Origins:

Leather coats became synonymous with authority during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Officers wore them on horseback and in trenches, the heavy material offering protection against the elements while their polished finish reinforced their rank and status.

2. Aristocratic Utility:

In aristocratic circles, leather coats were tailored with meticulous precision. They combined functionality with refinement, designed to drape over riding uniforms and complement tall boots, breeches, and gloves. This seamless blend of utility and style elevated the coat to an unmistakable symbol of power.

3. Cultural Symbol:

Over time, the leather overcoat transcended its practical roots to become a statement of command and menace in broader culture—adopted by those who sought to impose fear, respect, or awe with nothing more than their presence.

For the Alpha, these historical associations elevate the leather overcoat into something far more than a garment: it becomes his personal insignia of dominance.

The Physical Power of the Leather Overcoat

A leather overcoat is designed to command attention. Its weight alone distinguishes it from lesser fabrics, and when draped over the Alpha’s shoulders, it amplifies his presence. The deliberate swish of leather as he moves signals precision, control, and menace, each step a reminder of his authority.

1. Weight and Fit:

• The coat must be heavy, tailored to perfection to complement the Alpha’s physique.

• It must drape over his flared breeches and polished boots, creating a silhouette of power.

2. Leather Quality:

• Only the finest leather is acceptable—thick yet supple, polished to a subtle sheen.

• The coat must retain its structured shape, embodying durability and refinement.

3. Functionality:

• The overcoat is practical as well as symbolic. It protects against the elements while remaining immaculate, a reflection of the Alpha’s ability to remain unshaken by adversity.

When the Alpha dons his leather overcoat, he does so with deliberate purpose. The coat becomes an extension of his presence, its movement as calculated as his stride, its weight as uncompromising as his standards.

The Psychological Impact

The leather overcoat carries with it a psychological weight, both for the Alpha and those who encounter him.

1. Authority:

The Alpha’s coat announces his authority before he speaks. Its tailored perfection and heavy presence create an imposing silhouette, forcing others into silence and submission.

2. Fear and Respect:

The gleam of the leather and the way it moves create a psychological trigger—instilling awe in those beneath him and fear in those who dare oppose him. It is a cloak of command in every sense of the word.

3. Detachment:

The Alpha’s coat forms a barrier between himself and the world. It symbolizes his emotional detachment, a reminder that he is untouchable, unyielding, and resolute.

The Alpha understands the power of psychology, and the overcoat becomes part of his strategy. To look upon him is to witness perfection—a controlled, dominating force that cannot be ignored.

How the Alpha Wears His Overcoat

The leather overcoat is not thrown on casually. It is worn with purpose, each element carefully considered to enhance the Alpha’s authority.

1. With Gloves:

Leather gloves complement the coat, completing the look of precision and dominance. Whether clasping a riding crop, a swagger stick, or resting at his sides, the Alpha’s gloved hands move with deliberate grace.

2. Over Breeches and Boots:

The coat must flow over the Alpha’s flared breeches and polished riding boots, drawing the eye to his imposing stance and confident stride.

3. Shoulder Posture:

The Alpha stands tall, shoulders squared and back straight. The overcoat enhances his silhouette, exaggerating the breadth of his chest and the refinement of his physique.

4. Silent Command:

When the Alpha removes his coat, it is done with ceremony—slowly and deliberately, as a reminder of his control. The submissive entrusted with holding or caring for the coat must treat it with reverence, understanding its symbolic importance.

Sir Cedric’s Reflection

The leather overcoat is my armor and my insignia. It carries with it a weight—both physical and symbolic—that reinforces my authority with every step I take. When I fasten its buttons and feel its weight settle on my shoulders, I am reminded of who I am: a man of discipline, control, and refinement.

The swish of leather as I move is not accidental—it is a calculated declaration of my presence. Those beneath me understand the significance of the coat, for it is no mere garment. It is a statement.

To the submissives entrusted with polishing its surface or carrying it in my stead, the leather overcoat is a lesson in reverence. Treat it well, and you honor me. Fail to do so, and you dishonor yourself.

How do you present yourself? Do you command attention before you speak? Do others feel your authority in the weight of your presence? If not, you have failed.

The leather overcoat is not an option. It is a necessity—for the Alpha who understands that power is projected as much as it is enforced.

The Alpha does not wear the coat. The coat wears his dominance.