#Fake Womens sandals

[aaaplazatrade]

Why Is There Growing Demand for Replica Designer Sneakers?

Premium designer slippers and sneakers have evolved into a staple of any man's casual wardrobe since they established their sartorial foothold in the market. They bring comfort and coolness to any ensemble for men. Designer shoes have unquestionable value that other casual shoes cannot compare to the level of style, adaptability, and comfort provided by them. Plus, they are available in a huge variety, so they can be dressed up with a suit for a business casual look or down with a pair of jeans for an exquisite casual look. Though, they are expensive, but they also provide a level of attention to detail and craftsmanship that mass-market brands can’t deliver.

However, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to pay a fortune for buying designer products. With Replica Designer Sneakers creating buzz in the market, you can find stylists hand-picked budget-friendly, high-quality alternatives for the best luxury sports and athletic wear brands such as Adidas, Nike, and New Balance etc. From Gucci to Tom Ford and Balenciaga, you can get replica designer slippers and sneakers that can make you look stunning and elegant on all days.

Buying something counterfeit doesn’t correlated the value of a person. On the contrary, there is more demand for replica items such as replica designer slippers and replica designer sneakers in the current market.

There has been a combination of factors that have contributed in the rising demand for replica products. First and foremost, replicas are often much cheaper than the original products, making them an attractive option for people who want to save money but still wish to wear designer products. These are made using high quality material that they stand firm to the test of time and their quality remain untangled. Secondly, there is a constantly increasing demand for wearing replicas as a statement of personal style. For instance, replica designer sneakers like Burberry men’s sneakers are in popular demand among fashionable men.

A lot of people who buy original branded products online or in stores wish to authenticate their purchases. But there is also a growing sector of the market in search of the replica products. Buying replica fashionable products such as Replica Designer slippers and Replica Designer sneakers have become much more widespread and accessible through online marketplaces and social media platforms.

It is easy and convenient way to buy good quality replica designer products at the best prices. However, it can also be daunting task to choose the best online platform to buy replica designer sneakers and replica designer slippers. One must research to find a reputed online store known for offering quality products. They must be able to provide good warranty and return policy on the products. All of these will help you buy quality replica designer products at reasonable prices.

[reversedumbrella]

teruki week 2024: happy birthday teruki

image description:

[ID: a five page comic for teruki week day 7: birthday. the first 3 pages happen inside a clothing shop's dressing room, where teru is trying multiple outfits while out of view mob comments on them. the first two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 1: fire/electricity. on the first fit, teru wears a top with a flame on it and fluffy long sleeves colored orange and yellow. his pants have five sections, each with flame designs. one red, one orange, one green, one blue and one purple. teru is wearing flipflops. mob comments "colorful." on the second fit, teru wears a green long sleeve shirt, a vest made out of fake lightning bolts, pants made out red, blue and black electric cables and boots. mob comments "zappy."

mob sits on a benchon the dressing room, right by him his flip phone is ringing. mob says "those look really good. anything else, Hanazawa". out of viwe teru replies "PLENTY! and with this years birthday money I might be able to take it all home!"

the second two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 2: school/festival. on the first fit teru is wearing a torn version of his school uniform. he smiles while rocking his head back and forth. mob comments "rock n' roll". on the second fit teru wears viana do Castelo's typical women clothing, nowadays just worn for an anual parade. red cloth on his head, large golden earings and necklaces. red shawl over a white shirl. large red apron over a black skirt. white socks and black shoes. mob comments "wow."

the third two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 3: star/copy. on the first fit teru wears a sparkly five point star around his head, star sunglasses, a pink top, jeans with two big sparkly stars over each knee and a lot of small stars all over, pink high heels. he wears bracelets similar to his head apparatus. mob comments "shinny." on the second fit there are two teru's each wearing outfits only differing in color, with only the shorts being the same. a top over a t-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt. shorts over leggings and sneakers. mob comments "maybe the shorts on the left…"

mob is sitting on the dressing room bench. his phone is either still ringing or ringing again. up to interpretation.

the fourth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 4: official art/omake. the first fit comes from official art. purple and blue cap, green jacket over a white shirt with a lemon pattern. red shorts over greyscale camouflage leggings. green and yellow sneakers. none of these colors go well together. mob comments "fun." on the second fit teru is wearing a beach outfit. shirtless with blue beach shorts and green sandals. he has colorful necklaces and bracelets. with his right he's grabbing abucket with a shovel inside. on his head he's balancing a beach ball wearing heart sunglasses. mob comments "careful"

the fifth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 5: hair/trauma. in the first fit teru is wearing a crazy wig that covers his upperbody and arms. it has four ponytails and is covered in braids. it also gives him a large moustache. he's wearing red leggings and green shoes. mob comments "hairy". the second fit is a brocolli and boots. both meet at his calves. his arms are free but his hands have smaller brocolli over them. this is the only fit mob doesn't comment on.

mob is sitting on the bench when teruki grabs him while saying "C'MON". mob replies "huh?!" and teru answers "you didn't really though i was buying just for me?!"

the last outfit was inspired by teruki week day 6: protagonist/rival. mob is the one wearing it. mob's outfit is a clash of colors and patterns. sweater with a star design around the neck. the neck is red, the star is orange and the rest of the sweater is yellow ith green stripes and dots. pink bell bottoms with bright pink stars. teru is showering mob in compliments. he drowns himself in dread thinking "i should have known kageyama-kun would have looked amazing regardless of what he wears. those clothes are too bold even for me but he dawns the clothes i picked with such ease. i have lost again. he is my rival even in fashion sense. there is no way i could have ever won against him…"

the next two apges are the aftermath of the shopping spree. mob and teru laugh and walk with multiple bags, teru carrying two and mob carrying the rest on his arms. happy, teru looks up and then at mob. he says "thank you for getting some time to spend on my birthday with me. i know you have a busy life". mob blushes and turns away saying " no problem. i like spending time with you…" mob phone rings again. teru points at it and says: "there goes your phone again". mob makes all his left arm bag levitate and uses it to open the phone. mob clarifies "just master reigen. there'sa complicated client . he keeps texting in case i need to go there" out of view teru comments "it's nice he calls in advance" to wich mob throws a side-eye. mob looks surprised at his phone, grabs teru and screams "we have to go!!" mob and teru run with the bags floating around them. teru goes up the satirs to reigen's office. out of view mob says "prepare for anything!" teru grabs the door handle and opens the door. inside reigen, serizawa, tome, ritsu and the awakening lab kids scream "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" reigen is holding a cake with 15 candles. end ID]

[kartonkartonski]

ONE PIECE Pirate AU

What if OP world had real pirate vibe / What if our 1700s had people strikingly similar to OP characters + magic

DISCLAIMER i have the opposite of Same Face Syndrom + cant draw women lol yes the faces are real human ispired

LUFFY - Brazilian / Caribbean kid from a random ass poor village Hat, vest, pants, sandals - made more historically accurate (mmha)

ZORO - Japanese but raised abroad in Turkey or sth idk Hair - green hair dont exist lol Shirt, pants, boots - mmha Eyepatch - a piratey touch

NAMI - Swedish but adopted and raised in Spain or Italy or idk Clothes - mmha + made her more tomboyish Head cloth - piratey touch

USOPP - Italian mum + African father (unthinkable!) (european colonies in South Africa or sth) Clothes mmha The prankster he is, he carries fake prosthetic hook and peg leg and a fake swordsheath. I bet he has a fake parrot and an eyepatch he doesnt use. The gun is real and replaces slingshot

SANJI - French cook in the Mediterrenean Eyebrows - curly eyebrows dont exest stupid Hair - mmha Suit - mmha Cigs - replaced with a pipe Golden tooth - he got scurvy on that stranded island

CHOPPER - Canadian reindeer (caribou) General look - now he look like a real reindeer huh. No wonder why he was feared by the peeps Hat - early american settler-like Pants - mmha + piratey stripes

NICO - Russian originally associated with mafiozo Krokodil The dress is how i imagine her to dress like when working with Krokodil Hat, boots - mmha + more piratey Riding suit - she looked like cowboy in early OP so i gave her riding clothes

FRANKY - American, self-made clockwork cyborg who uses word "super" quite often (it was a thing in early 1700s!) Hair - Cyan hair dont exist idiot + made it cool and epic for 1700 standards Metal nose - screwed to skull Shirt - mmha Underwear - yes its underwear mmha Robo parts - clockwork coz no steam engines back then + wooden doll-looking Peg leg - hides a gun

BROOK - Austrian musician, his crew died hit by a plague Hat - mmha Afro - no afro in 1600-1700 sorry Justacorps - 1600s-ish coz he old af Yohoho

JIMBEE - Now a real FISHman, a real WHALESHARK and a real INDIAN (Oda said hes indian) yup thats about that FOLLOW FOR MORE

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 372: Gone Viral

At this point I’d watched the video, the twenty-second clip from Amelia’s Saturday-night stream that had gone absolutely viral, more times than I could count. The clip was everywhere now. My phone was broken but I still had my desktop computer, and the video player filled my screen.

MAN MAKES GIRLS GROW BY CUMMING!!!

 It still made my mouth gape, it still made my skin crawl, and as I sat in my office alone this Tuesday morning it made me deathly afraid. What the actual fuck is happening?!? What had I become involved in?!? What had been happening to my body and - what was I doing to theirs?!?

Josie’s breasts broke out of her top. 

It was a trick, had to be something with editing, or a really good animation, or something - right?!? People don’t just…grow! It was physically impossible! It broke so many fundamental laws of nature and physics and physiology. It had to be fake. Didn’t it?? And, of course, it wasn’t me that caused it. It couldn’t be!

Lakshmi’s ass ballooned. 

Someone - one of the girls, or some online perv - had obviously made this clip of Amelia’s live recording of me sitting on Melissa’s lap, on her couch, surrounded by girls in bikinis and pajamas and getting whacked off by Josie. They’d clipped it, done weird things to it, and posted it…everywhere. That was the only explanation, that it had been altered. But…no. Now that I thought about it, I remembered. Memories came flooding back. 

Katie’s feet grew and burst from her flip-flop sandals. 

And what was happening with Josie’s hair?!?

And Melissa…Melissa looked enormous!

Oh my god!!

As I relived it again - the first time, in fact, back in the breakroom after a few bites of that terrible scone this morning - the memories started to get clearer. The girls had grown, all around me, my female staff had burgeoned and swelled. They surrounded me pressing around into me on Saturday night right after my handjob in Josie’s grip. And, though it didn’t make it onto the clip’s audio, I now remembered Randi’s whispered voice in my ear: “Get ready little man, your girls are going to eat you alive.”

Again: Oh my god!!

Three million views! More! More than three million views this thing had already, just on GirlToob (this popular, rapidly growing new video platform filled with content “for a female audience”) and it was posted only two days ago! I watched it again, looping. 

There I was, naked as day (certain parts of my anatomy were pixelated out for modesty on some sites, like this one, but I was full Monty on many of the re-uploads) and spasming in climax like a rag doll. And then, as the camera left me and scanned the surrounding women all suddenly consumed in ecstasy, the growth began. Josie’s top, Lakshmi’s bottom, and Katie’s feet, they all got bigger. And, by god, they all got taller too, right after I’d obviously climaxed Yes, it was subtle, and maybe a trick, but the fact remained: I was now internet famous for making girls grow. 

Can one actually die from humiliation? Is there an ICD-13 code for End-Stage Shame? Because I had a terminal case of mortification that was currently making my blood ice water and I felt like I should just go hide under a rock for oh…I don't know…the next decade or so. 

I watched the loop again, still in stunned silence staring into my future and feeling the world close in all around me. Though I tried my best to deny it as trickery, part of me knew this was no joke. It was as if I’d realized this all before, sitting there that Saturday night, but only now had it actually become real. And it was very, very public. Had I been mad at Amelia for streaming this, on Saturday night? I don’t think I was. In fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even know it was happening at the time, but when the girls showed me the video early this morning I kind of freaked out a bit. They all just laughed as they watched my reaction.. 

“Aww! Don’t be so dramatic,” one of them had said. 

“It’s all good,” said another. 

“People love you,” they tried to tell me. 

“Here, look at these comments, there’s hundreds of them,” I was told, “one girl calls you a hunk!”

“Or this one: ‘He’s every girl’s dream’.”

‘I want to hug him like a teddy bear.’

I want to eat him for breakfast. 

Can I be next haha??

Though most of the commenters were women, men had chimed in too: ‘ugh the dude is supersimp’ and ‘fuck yes make them all biggger u fuck’ or ‘STOP JUST WATCHNG WE NEED TO STIP THIS’

GOOD LORD!! I was, suddenly, a pariah, a savior, an object of lust and envy all at once. Millions of people had seen this! My heart thrump-thummed in my chest as my skin prickled with ignominy and the anxiety that was coming on like a horde of locusts. It was eating everything! Did I need to go to the authorities? Did I need to go to the hospital to find out what was wrong with me? Or did I just need to commit myself to the psych ward and be done with it? 

I needed t-

A knock at my door.

“Dr J?” came Aubrey’s voice, followed by Aubrey herself. Goddamnit even in my discomfit, my soul-panic, my eyes went to her tits. Jesus, her chest. Holy Christ her figure. This is Aubrey?!? Little Aubrey?!? She’d been six inches shorter - easily! - three months ago. If somehow I was responsible for all these changes to all these girls -  What have I done to her?!? She stepped in, closing the door to my office behind her, wearing a sensible - if overmatched - blue blouse, a mid-length skirt, and a look of concern. She was also carrying my ‘World’s Best Boss’ mug. 

“H-hey Aubrey, c-C-ome in,” I greeted her, hearing my voice crack again. It had been doing that more and more recently, especially in times of stress. I sounded like a pre-teen. I glanced at the white mug, which after a contrite thanks she offered to me. I hesitated. I remembered the cup the girls had poured me earlier; I hadn’t been able to stomach even a sip. “Is that my coffee?”

“No,” she said, a funny shiver to her voice, “I…I know you haven’t been drinking coffee, so…so I brought you this.”

I didn’t even notice her eyes watching me, studying my face as I accepted the mug and took a look at its contents. Jesus the mug felt heavy to me. And inside -  milk, of course it was milk. Melissa had been insistent we keep a gallon of both 2% and whole in the breakroom fridge now, in case I ever got thirsty, or hungry. It was - I had to admit - the easiest thing on my stomach these days. I was more than a little self-conscious that I’d become a milk-drinker and blushed a little here in front of Aubrey. The smell, though, cut through my perturbation. Wow, I guess I’m really craving this. It made sense: I hadn’t eaten much at all this morning. 

Aubrey continued to watch as I brought the mug to my lips and took a sip. Wow. It was delicious. Creamy, sweet, earthy. Maybe this is a new brand? And…

“You warmed it up?” I asked. It was warm, perfect. Like body temperature. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Aubrey answered, still sounding slightly nervous as she bit her lip, “in the, um, microwave? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I answered, taking another sip, and then another. It caressed my mouth, slipped down my throat and immediately went to work filling my body with warmth and a new sense of something good, familiar. Holy crap this is great. I fought the urge to just gulp it down. “Thank you so much, Aubrey.” There was something different in my voice. I sounded calmer. 

“You’re welcome,” she answered. 

This, of course dear readers, was Katarina’s breastmilk. I didn’t know that at the time though, and somehow, in that moment I didn’t put the memory together, or recognize the taste. Again, my abilities to avoid the truth were Olympian. I’d drank of it over the weekend and this was the same thing, but goddammit as I sat at my desk my mind was if nothing else a fortress of denial. Subconsciously I refused to acknowledge it - but  I was drinking breastmilk.  

I looked up at Aubrey and instead of seeing a woman complicit in a plot to overthrow my authority here at the office, physically infantilize me into a cretin, and help herald in a new age of overwhelming female power, my eyes saw someone else. I saw a girl who cared about me, an employee who wanted my day to go well, and a budding friend. A daughter-figure in some respects, a cool younger protege in others. 

Christ I was so deluded!!!

But, no. Aubrey - all the girls, really - was all these things. Our little story here, if you haven’t figured it out by this point, is complicated. Good guys, bad guys, heroes and villains? It was all too convoluted for labels. What was I, for that matter? A culpable anti-hero working against my gender? A victim, a helpless simp? Was I the lead actor in a comedy, tragedy or reality-show from the most fucked-up universe ever? I don’t goddamn know, even now. But the fact of the matter is, at that moment in time - gazing up at Aubrey with my “World’s Best Boss” mug in my hand and my medical-records clerk’s breastmilk worming its way into me - I felt great. 

“What are you watching?” Aubrey asked, noticing that my screen was on, video player playing, looping. 

“Oh, yeah, this,” I said, taking another sip of warm, delicious  milk and turning the monitor towards her, “this is great. Wanna watch..?”

====================================

mucho thanks to RiF for editing and guidance

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

For mermay: how about merman! Joseph where Y/N finds him on the beach at low tide and when he sees them he freaks out and tries to go NIGERUNDAYOOOO but he's on land and he's just flopping around 😂

Absolutely! That's hilarious, you didn't specify whether you wanted yandere or non-yandere, so I made it ambiguous. Enjoy my beautiful mermay enjoyer (you also can be handsome if you want cutie!)❤️

Beached

Joseph was often told that his attention seeking behavior would cause him trouble one day. His elders often scolded him for causing currents in the city, startling fish, and wandering too close to the surface. He'd always laugh at them and quip back something clever that made them angrier. Now he realized they might have been right.

It was a simple bet really; Cesear and he were swimming around causing mischief when the topic of the surface came up. "I bet they've got some pretty hot babes on the surface. Ones with two tails instead of one." Joseph sighed dreamily, causing Cesear to scoff. "The women of the land can't compete with the women of the sea." Typical Cesear, so close minded. A smirk appeared on Joseph's face as a "brilliant" idea came to mind. "Oh Cesear, I think that I can find someone more beautiful than all the merfolk in the sea just by the beach." Cesear's kelp green eyes narrowed. "Your next words are 'You bastardo Joseph, you've got yourself a deal!'" Cesear fell for Joseph's ploy. "You bastardo Joseph, you've got yourself a deal!" Joseph shit eating grin was met with shock and anger from the other merman. "You smug sea devil, get back here!" Joseph giggled to himself as he swam from his friend.

Things were going good for Joseph no merfolk noticed Joseph and Cesear sneak towards the surface. Cesear still kept his underwater, like the bloody coward he is. No matter all Joseph has got to do is scope out the land for some hot babes! Swimming closer and ducking his head underwater when he thought someone might be coming, he eagerly spied on the beach to find... NO ONE?! What gives? It was a beautiful morning, sun rising steadily into the sky water at low tide. Low tide... "OH NO!"

You had just woken up and stretched a bit, this was a great place to vacation during the summer. Beautiful town, friendly people, and the sea. White sand for miles around and clear blue ocean water. You love the Mediterranean! Donning a swim shirt and swim trunks and covering that with a light beach cover up, you slipped on your sandals. You rode your bike through the small town that was peacefully asleep, it was pretty early in the morning. Perfect time to have the beach all to yourself. You were ready for another day of tanning, relaxing, and summer fun. You hop off your bike and walk over to the beach humming a tune that was stuck in your head. (Fav song) gets better each time you hear it. Your peace was ruined by someone screaming, oh my god is that person okay? Running to the source of the noise you found a handsome man. He had a mop of wild brown hair and eyes the color of sea glass. He was tall, tan, and muscular and had no legs. Instead, there was a beautiful green fish tail. The man Stopped his loud yelling and violently slapping his tail to look at you. The merman precedes to flop even harder.

Joseph was stuck and while he was an intelligent bastard he also was a cocky one. He wasn't paying attention to the tides and now was flopping around like a fish out of water. Well, he was one but that was beside the point. "Cesear, move your big tail and help me!" The man was met with bubbles. Oh, so that's how that is, Cesear was laughing at his misfortunes. Fake friend! Joseph was too busy cursing the blond traitor that he didn't notice a pair of footsteps quickly approaching him. A light gasp caused his head to snap over to the creator of the noise. A person who was (short/medium/tall) and had (h/l) (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. They were wearing baggy cloth that hid their curves from his curious gaze. He found a two tail... a hot two tail! Crap a two tail! Joseph begins flopping harder than before he needed to get out of here. He heard the two tail speak in a language he could not understand as it franticly approached him. Hell no!

Wack! the powerful green tail smacked you straight in the gut, throwing you onto some sharp seashells thoroughly knocking the wind out of you. You were trying to help but this merman just gut punched you with his tail. He frantically made clicking and chattering noises to something in the water you could not see. Another merperson? That didn't matter right now, what did was getting the merman back into the ocean before other people came. The merman looked to be made of pure muscle so there was no picking him up and approaching him from behind would get you smacked again. Maybe you could get some water over to where you are. You crept around the merman and threw your hands up in a sign of nonaggression towards the frightened brunet. the ocean was further than you thought and you didn't have a bucket to pour water on him. Frustrated you sank your feet into the wet sand causing water to fill in the hole you made in the sand. Bingo!

Joseph was confused as to why the two tail was digging a hole at this time. Is that what two tails do when stressed? He'd have to ask Speedwagon but right now he continued to observe the two tail and keep them a tail length away. Continuing to watch he saw water slowly filling the hole they made as the dug up to where Joseph would be making some sloppy aqueduct. Who knew two tails could be smart? Joseph met the desperate (e/c) that held no malice towards him. He was good at reading people and knew the land dweller was no danger to him and was even trying to help. Joseph began slowly inching towards them and the small saltwater river they were making, their hands looked tired, but they didn't stop, even as sweat began to form on their brow. Joseph felt his heart began beating faster not out of fear but something else. They didn't have to help them and yet they were trying, more than some merfolk ever did for him.

You heard a squeak and a splash coming from behind you the merman enters the watery area you made for him and was pushing you with him towards the ocean. You both landed with a plop in the warm waters of the Mediterranean, salt stinging your eyes as you had not been prepared to go swimming right now. Surfacing you gasped for air as you searched for the merman, only to see the green merman circling you like a shark. Did you just put yourself in danger? Plop the merman's head surfaced from the water a cheeky grin on his face. Face only centimeters from your own, he looked like he was going to kiss you. You blushed as you found him handsome but wasn't expecting this, squeezing your eyes shut and turning you head away from him. Nothing. You opened your eyes to look at the merman who looked at you with lips puckered and squirted salt water into your face. Gross! The mermaid disappeared before you could even yell at him for not only scaring the crap out of you but getting salt water in your mouth. You couldn't help but laugh though as the merman was very playful and you didn't mind the water. That was until you saw your shoes floating away from you.

Joseph swam down to a smirking blond with a big goofy grin on his face. "Well Joseph, did you see a land babe?" Cesear mocked him but Joseph was in too good of a mood to pout. He was so close to you, he could have kissed you! However, kissing was sacred in mermaid culture only to be done with mates. He blushed at the thought of you being his mate. You could swim with him, he could introduce you to Cesear, and he could show you his home! His giddy thoughts were interrupted by the sour taste that came to his mouth when he thought of introducing you to Cesear or any other merfolk. He didn't want to do that, you were too precious for them. With that decided he planned hen he would meet his own little two leg again with Cesear chasing after him.

Sorry if it sucks, I kinda rushed towards the end because I didn't know if you wanted yandere or not, so this was more fluffy. Please feel free to request more this mermay.

[shirotaangel]

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ Magdalena: Black Dragons

- SCENE I, ACT III

- SYNOPSIS : Koko, with his viper eyes and clever mind, finally finds his bite on you.

- PREVIOUS: Scene II

tw : nudity, menstrual blood, stalking, everyone is a perv.

╰┈➤THE BROTHEL WAS SOMEWHERE in the fortunate side of Kyoto, built somewhere in the Meiji period when Western civilization started seducing Japan with trade. Kokonoi was surprised he didn't hate the walk as much as he thought he would.

He was about to pull up behind Inupi but the Brothel Madame suggested he should take in the wonderful air of Kyoto, fill it with its redness, replace all the toxins Tokyo put in him.

But what surprised Kokonoi more was that he actually tried the suggestion. With his gloved hands at his back, he looked around, occasionally leaning over at the stalls of the street vendors.

The moon was up, but Kyoto didn't need its light anymore. It had its own red glow from shops and lanterns.

He thought about you, the Oiran, wondering if you ever walked the same streets as him on those precious little feet of yours.

He remembered your interesting habits - how your right foot would dangle your open-toed sandal when you're leaning back, how you'd tilt your head in intrigue, the way your brows rise.

Your charming little movements all done to tie your strings around a man's heart. He didn't fall, not exactly, but it did amuse him as it amused you.

All in an hour. Was he stupid to invest so much trust in an hour? But he dealt with many negotiations before, some even sealed in a time as short as thirteen minutes.

Kokonoi stopped, staring at a Fuji apple at one of the crates of the fruit sellers. He laughed. What a bad investor he is, isn't he? He expected all beautiful women are the same breed, sharing the same miseries as the other.

Now he sees it. How you basks in your misery, kissing it in the mouth with tongue. You sleep in bed with your misery, fucks it there, tells it: I want you.

He laughs, nodding. You're an interesting woman.

Kokonoi, more at ease now, strolled lightly to the direction of the brothel, humming a little tune to himself. When he arrived, three smoking prostitutes were gossiping by the entrances.

"Is the Oiran awake?" He asked.

"Maybe," one of them giggled, "you should go up in Mamma's office."

"Your madame's there already?" That fast?

"No," the prostitute shook her head, "but she wants you to be."

Kokonoi walked past them through the door strung with long strings of white shells in the shape of coffee beans. It smelled like dust inside and Avon perfumes.

Koko went to the second floor, asking another prostitute to the office of their madame. She pointed towards to a corridor to a shoji screen painted with scenes of mountainsides.

He didn't knock, finding it useless to use courtesy in a place of indecency.

The office was a bit bigger than the one by the pawnshop, but this one was littered with incense standing in gravel-filled cups with a small Buddha sitting on a red plate filled with fake gold coins. Koko raised his brow.

On the desk was a Sony Triton TV and three jade bracelets, which Koko turned around in inspection. Huh. The Madame isn't that cheap, after all.

Kokonoi glanced at the TV, shocked at what he's seeing.

It was the live footage of the Oiran's white-draped room, the camera view set somewhere from the ceiling. It was high quality, and had audios.

You, Koko saw, was sitting on your bed in the center of the room wearing a silk nightgown. He can only see your back, how your flow of thick, combed hair rolled down to your ass.

Two children, five year old twins, were fanning the hundred candles in the room out, reaching after to slide open the windows.

Moonlight hit your side, illuminating your arm and your thighs. Koko noticed you backed away from it.

"What do you want to wear today, Nee-san?" One of the twins piped up.

Koko was impressed at how keenly the Madame has her greatest asset under guard. He imagines the old bitch sitting here, listening, anticipating for an army of men marching to steal you away.

"It's hot, isn't it?" You asked, "you can leave for now."

Kokonoi narrowed his eyes. It's as if it was the first time he heard your sea-calm voice.

"But we haven't helped you yet, Nee-san," the little girl reasoned, "Mamma will be angry."

"She won't," you stood up slowly, padding to a drawer under the linen-covered tables to give the twins, what Koko could see, money, "go buy yourselves those tanghulu you like."

The girls gasped and kissed your cheek, happily running out the screen doors.

Kokonoi saw you didn't do anything for moments after that, standing on your spot by the drawers, staring solemnly at the door.

Then something began to leak down your legs, staining her silk nightgown in dark streaks. Kokonoi leaned towards the screen but instantly drew back when he realized what it was.

You slid the delicate straps of your nightgown off your perfect shoulders, the rest of it falling elegantly around your well-shaped ankles. Koko, for a quick second, averted his eyes.

He realized though that decency means nothing to him. Certainly, it means nothing to you. So he watched without shame.

Is this why you made the girls go? Didn't want them to see blood? Kokonoi chuckled. An irony.

Your breasts, perky and full, drooped down when you bent to wipe the blood off your thighs with the nightgown.

Kokonoi admired the science - how you're cleaning your blood and still be beautiful, faultless, perfect.

He wanted you more because of that. Black Dragons is a sea of blood and having you stand there ankle-deep might justify all of it.

Kokonoi just watched you. He didn't do anything. He didn't have to do anything. While you in your white room did nothing at all. You just sat naked staring at nothing.

He wonders what's going on in that head of yours. It's an interesting question - what is the most beautiful woman in the world thinking?

You didn't reveal much. Maybe you're thinking about nothing at all.

A few moments later, you stood up and wore a long camisole that reached your thighs and a girdle with a pad on, slowly clipping the girdle's straps to nude stockings.

You moved slow, Koko noticed, as if your perfect limbs were drenched in heavy tar.

From the covers of the bed, you drew something out. What's that, a child? You held it loosely in you arms as you slowly twirled around, swaying your hips.

Then he watched you put it gently on the table among the candles. It was a statue, he realized, of the Virgin Taiju worshipped.

Hm. You're religious?

The twins arrived while the Oiran was brushing your hair, just finished their tanghulus.

"Can I pick your cheongsam, Nee-san?" The twin gushed in excitement, jumping on little toes.

You nodded, "go on."

The girl with her twin ran out the door. Koko's spies informed him you have a whole thirty square-meter room for your cheongsams, all from Shanghai.

He would have to send both his and Inupi's division to pick all of them up, store them in one of the warehouses.

The twins return with a mannequin wearing a sleeveless piece of purple cheongsam, sewn with intricate patterns of yellow orchids and butterflies as far as Koko can see.

You, with contemplating fingers, took it off the mannequin. The fit of it was like water around you, rippling wonderfully at each movement, taking the shape of your body.

"You're so pretty, Nee-san!" A twin adored, "I wish I can have your face. Not everyone has it."

The other twin nodded, "Mother says one of us has chance to be you, Nee-san! Some day when Ichigo and I turn to seventeen!"

Koko saw you were silent.

The twin gasped, "oh, how about you read our palms, Nee-san?"

You sat back on the bed, "would you like that?"

All at once the girls spread out their chubby, dimpled palms in front of you.

"Come, Miki," you beckoned, "you can sit on my lap while waiting."

Kokonoi himself had sat on the desktop, a hand mindlessly scratching his neck. He didn't notice the heat anymore.

"You'll have a long life," you whispered, turning the child's hand in yours, "you'll . . . You'll be a healthy girl. Your features will be pretty. Look."

"Really?" The girl gasped.

"Yes," you agreed softly, "you'll be famous, too."

"So . . . " The girl in your lap trailed off, "so Ichigo will be like you, Nee-san?"

"Will I, will I?" The girl asked impatiently, smiling.

Kokonoi narrowed his sharp black eyes at your hesitation, looking closely at how you stared into the twin's palm. You were like that for moments. Frozen. Unmoving.

"Nee-San?"

The girl's eyes were big and large, innocent.

At that, Koko's own eyes widened, blasted wide. He smiled.

"Buy yourselves some apples," you dropped the palm, "go now."

copyright belongs to @shirotaangel

[tothesoundofthefreakyclock]

Era IV - V Ghouls HCs (part 1)

Color shows who made what hc

Basics

Phantom and Aurora are siblings with Aurora being the older sibling. Back in the Pits since they were ghoul kits they've been inseparable. They were summoned together. Can be a bit chaotic with each other if left alone together, but the moment Swiss joins in they'll all need to be watched like a hawk.

It took a while for Mountain, Sodo, and Aether to warm up to Copia as frontman since they were used to Terzo

Ghoulettes have girls night every week. They blast white girl bangers all night

Ghouls send Copia the ant with bindle photo when he scolds them to get out of trouble (it always works)

While most ghouls like to play fight, Swiss and Aurora do it the most and it’s usually pretty intense so the others avoid with them unless feeling particularly worked up. You would think they were actually trying to kill each other but no

Cirrus, Cumulus, Sodo, and Swiss watch those shitty reality TV shows to point fun at humans and the awful things they do. This is nearly a weekly thing if any of them have time to hang out with free time.

Cumulus and Cirrus always would send messages with at least one emoticon

We know Mountain is the tallest, but the smallest current ghouls are both Cumulus and Aurora at 5’3”. However, they are not the smallest ghouls of modern day Ghost (that title goes to Mist at 4'10" aka three sauces tall.)

Sodo/Dewdrop

He/they

Summoning day is June 21st, 2015

Favorite animal is pangolins because they look like dragons

Transmasc (ftm)

Went by Dewdrop when water ghoul, but changed it to Sodo when he became a fire ghoul

Middle child energy

He still has some fin-like features on him, but not as much as before. Some water ghouls could have scales like fish, so you'd have to squint to see the patches of scales on Sodo now. They were larger when he was still water. The fire features kinda override it.

Not mean (unless it's Aether /j), just easily irritated

Would never get angry at any ghoulettes. He drinks respect women juice everyday. He most definitely fears Cirrus sometimes

Sometimes joins the ghoulettes with their girls night just to get away from all the chaos, especially after a rough week

Will sell Aether's non-existent soul for a single corn chip

Ok he actually does care about Aether, but he just has limits to his shenanigans.

Since he was transformed into a fire ghoul instead of naturally born like that, the features a fire ghoul would normally have are weaker with him (ex: he doesn’t radiate much heat from his body)

Wants affection and then bites when he’s had enough like a cat

Doesn’t take criticism very well

Aether

He/him

Summoning day is June 24th, 2015

Favorite animal is tigers because of how big they are and goofy they can be at times

One of my three weed smoking girlfriends

Little sibling energy that Sodo is the main victim of

One of the most kindest ghouls you'll meet

He has some knowledge in healing and health, so if any of the ghouls, or anyone who is close to him in general, are sick or injured they go straight to Aether

He does that thing where he gets his hands wet and flings his fingers out to get water on Sodo

Helped take care of and watch over ghoul kits back in the Pits

He is still around the Ministry after leaving Ghost and still hangs out with the others when they're not touring.

If he could wear socks in sandals all the time he would

Very sensitive. Cries at those sad dog ads and donates the Ministry’s money

—

Mountain

He/they

Summoning day is June 19th, 2015

Favorite animal is ram since he has similar horns like them and how tough they are when butting heads with each other

Gentle giant

Has long, dark black hair that is super soft to touch and doesn’t mind the others playing with his hair

Ghoul equivalent to a golden retriever

Like a big brother to Sodo and Aether

Doesn't hunt like the other ghouls. He is able to control his urges, and plus there's already food inside so why bother

Plant dad. Even if you give him a fake plant he'll still love and cherish it. Names them all

Usually will have to stop Sodo from trying to lunge for Aether’s throat

Taller than the average earth ghoul at 7’3”. There were bruises on his face because of walking right into door frames when first summoned. Gets front passenger seat privileges

Keeper of air jail (lifting somebody up if they are causing trouble) Grabbing em by the scruff when the others are fighting

Rain

Any pronouns

Summoning day is July 18th, 2016

Favorite animal is blue marlin because of how fast it can swim and the sword-like appendage on their noses

Likes to keep fishies

Can only sleep when it’s pitch black

Has shark like features (the teeth, tail, sense of smell, etc)

Not shy at all, but just not very social. Possible social anxiety? Yes social anxiety bc projection

Eats the rainbow aquarium rocks like they're Nerds candy.

Mainly sticks around with Mountain since the two have good chemistry.

Gets mad at his own hiccups

Genderfluid

—

Cumulus

She/ey

Summoning day is April 4th, 2016

Favorite animal is mourning dove because of how they coo

Wine aunt

Anxiety. Not too terrible, but it still is awful

Would bring a dead animal inside after hunting and call it her Girl Dinner™

Literal Disney princess. She could sing and birds would fly to her to sing along

Terrified when first summoned. Glued to Cirrus’ side for the first six months

She is one of the sweetest ghoulettes, but she has quite a bit of weird and creepy pictures and items that will freak people out. Her and Swiss send each other cursed images and videos

Very motherly and protective of the others

Loves to wear fluffy, cloud-like clothing

Link to part 2 will be here soon!

[itsthestutterforme]

A Night in Charlotte 1/3 (Rafe Cameron x black!reader)

Summary: After Pope lies to Bobby about where he was taking his truck, you were left stranded in Charlotte for the night. And what better idea then to go to the nearest bar?

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, this will be a three part series, requests are open for OBX, sexual themes (dry humping, praise kink, fingering, oral sex, p in v penetration, morning sex), MINORS DNI

Prompt credit @mostlyheinous : “No seats? Bummer.. my lap is feelin’ empty though.”

**

Rafe’s deal fell through again. They ran countless tests on the gold and even went as far as to ask how him and Barry got it. Rafe grew impatient and yelled a few profanities before leaving with the suitcase filled a pound of gold. He finds that’s a common theme. Better established businesses questioning his credibility and turning him away.

How was he suppose to make any money? It’s not like he can go back to Ward with his tail between his legs. He’s on his own now. He had to make things work. He took a deep breath after he downed the rest of his whiskey. He jingled the ice in his cup at the bartender and the bartender acknowledged him with a nod before reaching for the whiskey bottle.

The bell above the door rung when you stepped into the bar. Your plane landed two hours ago and you were met with a chaotic mess. You called the number from your grandma’s phone book that was labeled Bobby Heyward. He’s your uncle and one of the fewest family you could get into contact with since your grandma’s passing.

Bobby seemed to think your plane landed tomorrow and gave his son the truck for the day. Apparently he still has the truck, which means you were stranded in Charlotte until tomorrow night at the latest. After finding a hotel with some vacancy, you randomly decided to go to the nearest bar.

Nothing is more depressed than spending a Friday night indoors watching the same Law and Order reruns. You beelined to the bar stools, your box braids swaying with every step, only to see all the stools were taken by someone.

You’ve got to be kidding me, you thought to yourself. You felt your face getting hot so you pulled your braids into a low bun to keep your neck cool. Rafe’s gaze locked on you as soon as you stepped foot into the bar. You wore a red, floral sundress and matching red Vans. You never were one to wear sandals, even on the hottest of days. You were the perfect distraction for Rafe until Barry calls with a reality check.

Rafe decides to make his presence known by saying, “No seats? Bummer.. my lap is feelin’ empty though.” “Please tell me that line doesn’t actually work,” you crossed your arms with an eye roll. “What if it does?” “Then the women here have absolutely no game and neither do you,” “Ouch,” he presses his hand on his chest with fake offense.

He takes out his wallet and pulls out $200 before dropping it on the table in front of the man next to him. “Hey buddy, you mind?” He cocks his head to the door and the man looks between him and the $200. “I was just about to leave anyway,” the man says, sliding the money into his front pocket as he stood.

“Good man,” Rafe said with a kind smile. A smile that only grew wider when he pats the now empty seat for you to sit. “I’ll have a Bahama Mama please,” you tell the bartender. “Bahama Mama- you know, how come you’re nice to him but not to me?”

“One, you have to be a special kind of douche to be rude to people in the hospitality industry. And two, he didn’t try to get me to sit in his lap within ten seconds of meeting me.” “Thank you,” you state when the bartender hands you your drink. “I’m Rafe,” he offers you his hand and you opened your mouth to say something else snarky but you realized he spent $200 on you without so much as knowing your name.

“Y/N,” you say after a pause, sliding your hand into his. He repeats your name softly, twisting your hand to kiss your knuckles individually. “You’re not drunk, are you?” You blatantly ask and he laughs at your bluntness. “Not at all. This is my third.” He states, raising his glass for emphasis. “And I assume you’re not a lightweight?”

“I think the better question is are you?” He raises a brow and you bit your lip to hold back your laugh. “I am more the capable of holding my liquor. Thank you.” He watches you circle your finger around the rim of your glass a moment before meeting your gaze. His eyes never left yours for an entirety of ten seconds.

He leans in closer and whispers, “You want me to try another pick up line?” “Absolutely not,”

**

A proud smile tugs on Rafe’s lips when you push him on the bed before you kick off your shoes. “What?” You start. “Nothing,” he sits up and leans back on the palms of his hands. Your legs felt like jelly after he just fingered you against the door for ten long minutes, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away.

You pulled the dress over your head, not caring that it pulled your box braids out of the loose bun you had it in. As soon as you were close enough to him, he pulled you into his lap and buried his face into your boobs that were pushed up by your bra.

Your core throbs against the hard bulge pressed against you. He lifts you up a bit and starts rocking you against him, grazing your sensitive clit against the zipper of his jeans. Your mouth fell open when his jeans rubbed you just right, making your thighs clench around him. “That feel good?”

“Use your words, baby.” “Y-yes,” “Yeah?” He pressed his lips to yours, nipping at your bottom lip. You let out a gasp and he took the opportunity lick the tip of your tongue. You tugged his shirt open and buttons flew everywhere. You pushed him on his back and kissed down his chest, occasionally scratching down his stomach.

“Fuck,” he moans, bringing your lips back to his. His hands smooth down your body before sending a smack to your ass. He held you close to him as he switched positions so you were laying on your back. He gave you a kiss before pulling away from you to take off his mangled shirt and his jeans.

He lifted your ankle on to his shoulder and kissed up your entire leg until he reached your throbbing core. “Please,” you begged. “You sound so pretty when you beg,” he rips the seams of your panties until they were torn completely off and laid flat on his stomach. He lifts both of your legs over his shoulder before sealing his lips over your clit, massaging your walls with his tongue.

“R-Rafe,” your back arched off the bed and you started to twist away from him. He licks up your broad stripe, giving you a small break before using his thumb to rub hard circles on your clit. Growing impatient with your twitching body, he wrapped his arms around your hips tightly and burying his face in your pussy, kitten licking you until he felt your legs seize and straighten.

Fireworks went off behind your eyes, your hand gently held his head feeling as he bobbed his head with every lick. “Fuck!” You pushed his head away when he continued to lick you through your orgasm. He soon replaces his tongue with his fingers, curling them into your upper wall.

“Beg,” he taunts, smiling when he sees tears brimming in your eyes. “Please,” you croak. “Please what?” He says, leaning in to whisper in your ear. The action alone sent chills down your body. “Fuck me,” he sent a thrust with his fingers, rubbing your throbbing clit with his calloused palm. “Please, Rafe.” You whimpered, your body twitching consistently under the movement of his palm.

“Attagirl, so pretty.” You held back a whine when he harshly pulls his fingers away from you. He sucks them dry before crawling up your body, pecking your lips as he pulls his boxers down to his ankles. Instinctively, you spread you legs for him. He holds one of your legs straight up into the air, slowly pushing the tip against your folds.

“Do you think we’ll need lube?” You answered his question by wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling until he bottomed out inside or you. The two of your moaned in unison, the tip of his dick already nudging a gspot without much movement. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when you adjust your hips to take more of him.

“I’m not going too last long. Fuck you feel so good.” He groans, looking down at where your bodies met. He sent an experimental thrust, watching your face contort with pleasure. “Fuck me,” he says under his breath. He rolls his hips to make short, heavy thrusts. You clung to the sheets for dear life as he fucked you within an inch of your life.

You clenched around him and he thrusted hard enough to knock the wind out of you with every thrust. Whining when he comes to a complete stop, he bent down to kiss you warmly. You were about to ask what happened when he extended both of your legs straight up and pressed them flush against his chest.

He used your legs as handles to hold you in place when he fucked you relentlessly. The bed creaks under his quick thrusts. He licks his thumb before spreading your legs just enough to rub quick circles on your clit. “Shit, shit, shit!” You chanted as your toes curled for your third orgasm that night.

The convulsion of your walls sent Rafe over the edge. He sent a few thrusts more before pulling out and sending his cum across your chest. The two of you caught your breath and he reached down to grab his ripped shirt. To your surprise, he cleans up his cum with the shirt before tossing it clear across the room.

Without missing a beat, he collapses next to you, draping an arm across your stomach. Your eyes felt heavier the more you blinked. You turned on your side facing away from him and his body naturally fit with yours as he spooned you.

Maybe North Carolina wasn’t as bad as you thought.

[orangepanic]

What are your thoughts on the 'problematic' ships in atla/tlok? You know, incest, big age gap, etc

I'm very firmly ship and let ship, don't like don't read. Are there things that personally squick me out? Absolutely! Are there ships that make me wonder what's wrong with someone that they could want to write that, let alone share it, or why anyone would possibly want to read it, either? Of course. Do I have blocked tags, muted authors, and stuff I deliberately exclude from searches because I hate it so much I don't even want to see it, even just to scroll past? Totally do. I'd go nuts if I didn't.

And yet - and this is the important part - all of that is about ME. I don't like it. I don't want it. I sometimes hate that someone made it. But I firmly believe that in the totality of human history very little, if anything, has come from the censorship of fiction. What is "problematic" changes over time, and is a feature of one's individual absorption of culture and moral beliefs and preferences. There was a time in history where incest was fine - look at most European royal families, or the common marriage of first cousins in the U.S. until very recently. There was a time in history where a lord raping every woman in the area on her wedding night was also fine, or when male guests coming to the house were routinely provided one of the unmarried daughters to sleep with. There was a time when women riding bicycles was considered a disease. There was a time not all that long ago when depicting a same sex relationship was illegal - see the Hays Code in film. Also, someone told me we can't like The Time Traveler's Wife - a book that was a bestseller only 20 years ago - because it's now problematic to have an older man time travel back to his younger wife. I even hear kids these days think showing your bare feet is enabling an apparently huge population of foot fetish pedophiles to get off on all the feet of children? 10,000 years of human beings wearing sandals but now we're at risk it seems. And there are people in this fandom right now who argue Irosami is disgusting age gap ship even though it was originally supposed to be canon, was fairly popular when the show came out, and Pema and Tenzin are 15 years apart (which nobody seems to mind).

I guess what I'm trying to say is, who died and made me or anyone else the moral arbiter of fiction? Because once you go down that road you have to start making decisions on what it means for something to be "problematic." How big an age gap is too big? How close a relation is too close? Can my characters wear sandals? And then you get stuff like "sibling-coded" and three-year age gaps being problematic and fandom police as you open the door to more and more restrictions on fake people in fake worlds doing fake things with each other to the point that, if you're not careful, the only thing a transformative work is allowed to do is regurgitate canon in a way that defeats the entire point of creative writing, fandom, and fanworks. Even if I don't like a specific ship or piece, I do believe society is better in aggregate for having fewer restrictions on creativity, not more.

So I choose to reject the entire principle that I have any right to consider anyone else's ship or work wrong. If I don't like it, I have the tools to curate my own experience.

[nekotaylor]

The Complete List of Sissy Milestones

link

Categories

Panties [/20]

Bras [/13]

Hosiery [/14]

Lingerie [/15]

Shoes [/15]

Body Accessories [/16]

Cosmetics [/18]

Toys [/17]

Lifestyle [/23]

Outfits [/16]

Training [/14]

Masturbation [/15]

Sex [/23]

Mental [/4]

Cyber [/9]

Public [/14]

Social [/6]

Permanent [/11]

Total [/256]

Panties [20]

Wear a pair of panties.

Own a pair of panties

Own 10 pairs of panties.

Own 10 unique colors of panties.

Own 10 unique styles of panties.

Own a thong.

Own a g-string.

Own a bikini.

Own boyshorts.

Own ruffled panties.

Own hipsters.

Own cheeky panties.

Own pantaloons.

Own lacy panties.

Own panties with words on the bottom.

Own crotchless panties.

Own backless panties.

Own panties with a zipper.

Own pouch panties.

Own latex panties.

Bras [13]

Wear a bra.

Own a bra.

Own 5 bras.

Own a training bra.

Own a pushup bra.

Own a strapless bra.

Own a sports bra.

Own a bralette.

Own a T-shirt bra.

Own a lace cup bra.

Own a stick-on bra.

Own a bullet bra.

Own a matching bra set.

Hosiery [14]

Wear pantyhose.

Own a pair of pantyhose.

Own a pair of stockings.

Own a pair of knee highs.

Own a pair of ankle socks.

Own a pair of thigh highs.

Own fishnet stockings.

Own opaque tights.

Own white stockings.

Own patterned stockings.

Own leggings.

Own animal-print stockings.

Own lace-trimmed stockings.

Own 3 different deniers of hosiery.

Lingerie [15]

Own a garterbelt.

Own a fashion corset.

Own a steel-boned corset.

Own a petticoat.

Own a babydoll.

Own a panty-girdle.

Own a bodystocking.

Own a nightgown.

Own a teddy.

Own a chemise.

Own a bustier.

Own a camisole.

Own a peignoir.

Own a negligee.

Own a crinoline.

Shoes [15]

Wear a pair of heels.

Own a pair of women's shoes.

Own 5 pairs of women's shoes.

Own shoes with at least 3 inch heel.

Own shoes with at least 5 inch heel.

Own women's sandals.

Own women's booties.

Own high heeled wedges.

Own stilletos.

Own women's flats.

Own platform heels.

Own Mary Janes.

Own women's sneakers.

Own thigh-high boots.

Own lockeable heels.

Body Accessories [16]

Make a pair of DIY breastforms.

Own breast forms.

Own a breast plate.

Own a chastity cage.

Own clip-on earrings.

Own earrings.

Own dangling earrings.

Own hoop earrings.

Pierce ears.

Pierce tongue.

Pierce nipples.

Pierce belly button.

Own fake nails.

Own hip pads.

Own a wig.

Own temporary tattoos.

Cosmetics [18]

Own Foundation.

Own Blush.

Own Lipstick.

Own Lipliner.

Own Eyeliner.

Own Mascara.

Own Eyeshadow.

Own Makeup remover.

Own Concealer.

Own Eyelash curlers.

Own Fake eyelashes.

Own Highlighter.

Own Bronzer.

Own makeup sponges.

Own makeup brushes.

Own eyebrow pencil.

Own a makeup holder.

Own setting spray.

Toys [17]

Own a butt plug.

Own butt plug training set.

Own vibrating plug.

Own a dildo.

Own a squirting dildo.

Own a ball gag.

Own a penis gag.

Own nipple clamps.

Own hobble chains.

Own arm/leg binders.

Own ballet heels.

Own fleshlight.

Own prostate massager.

Own a blindfold.

Own anal beads.

Own an anal hook.

Own a tail plug.

Lifestyle [23]

Own women's soap.

Own women's shampoo.

Own women's deodorant.

Own women's perfume.

Know women's clothing size (shoes, waist, hip, bust)

Shave pubic hair.

Shave leg hair.

Shave arm hair.

Remove all body hair.

Reshape eyebrows.

Wear hair extensions.

Use home IPL hair removal.

Wear clear nail polish.

Wear colored finger nail polish.

Own colored toe nail polish.

Subscribe to a women's magazine.

Lose weight to become more feminine.

Grow out hair.

Pretend to have a menstrual cycle.

Throw out all male underwear.

Wear panties everyday.

Wear a bra everyday.

Wear women's hosiery everyday.

Outfits [16]

Own a maid outfit.

Own a sissy dress.

Own a school girl outfit.

Own a cheerleader outfit.

Own a secretary outfit.

Own a wedding dress.

Own a prom dress.

Own a little black dress.

Own a clubbing dress.

Own a bodycon dress.

Own a playboy bunny outfit.

Own a women's workout outfit.

Own a princess costume.

Own a gimp suit.

Own a women's cosplay costume.

Own a stepford wife costume.

Training [14]

Remain in chastity for 1 week.

Remain in chastity for 1 month.

Remain in chastity for 1 year.

Wear a corset for 1-4 hours a day.

Wear a corset for 6-10 hours a day.

Wear butt plug for 1-4 hours.

Wear a butt plug for 4-8 hours.

Fit a small dildo anally.

Fit a medium dildo anally.

Fit a large dildo anally.

Fit a small dildo orally.

Fit a medium dildo orally.

Fit a large dildo orally.

Practice applying makeup.

Masturbation [15]

Masturbate in chastity.

Have a ruined orgasm.

Have a self-facial.

Eat your own cum.

Use a vibrator to masturbate.

Have a protate orgasm.

Use a mechanical sex machine.

Watch sissy/feminization hypno.

Finger your anus.

Moan while masturbating.

Use an anal douche.

Have an anal enema.

Gape your ass.

Masturbate by stimulating your nipples.

Perform auto-fellatio.

Sex [23]

Experience a facial.

Get pegged.

Have a threesome.

Have anal sex.

Receive a creampie.

Give a blowjob.

Swallow someone else's cum.

Respond to a booty call.

Have anal sex immediately in the morning.

Have anal sex more than 4 times in one day.

Have anal sex while in chastity.

Have sex while dressed as a woman.

Get spitroasted.

Service a gloryhole.

Have an orgasm from anal sex.

Have anal sex without orgasming.

Experience a bukakke.

Participate in an orgy.

Participate in a gangbang as the center.

Have anal sex in 4 unique positions.

Deepthroat a penis.

Get spanked during sex.

Have anal sex without a condom.

Mental [4]

Give yourself a feminine name.

Write humiliating phrases on your body.

Keep a feminine diary.

Commit to a self-hypnosis schedule.

Cyber [9]

Have an online profile for your female persona.

Use a videochat service (Omegle/Chatroulette) as a woman.

Post pictures of yourself online dressed as a woman.

Post videos of yourself online dressed as a woman.

Have a female image of yourself captioned.

Receive a cum tribute toward your female persona.

Participate in online feminization training.

Complete online feminization tasks.

Receive a feminizing gift from someone.

Public [14]

public tasks can be done twice, once while with female underwear and once while fully dressed as a woman.

Go for a walk in public.

Go to a shopping mall.

Go to a beauty/hair/nail salon.

Go to a restaurant.

Go out on a date.

Go to a lingerie shop.

Go to a movie theatre.

Social [6]

Tell a friend you are interested in feminization.

Tell your significant other you are interested in feminization.

Be in a relationship where you spend a majority of your time in your female persona.

Book a session with a professional dominant.

Have a circle of friends where they primarily know you as your female persona.

Live as your female persona for 2 weeks.

Permanent [11]

Receive breast implants.

Receive butt implants.

Get a feminization themed tattoo.

Microblade your eyebrows.

Get lip brushing surgery.

Get a prince albert piercing.

Get tattooed eyeliner.

Get collage injections.

Take female hormones.

Have facial feminization surgery.

Have an orchiectomy.

Two people with the same score may have very different point breakdowns. That makes it very difficult to accurately describe what kind of sissy a person might be based on their point totals. But I did it anyway just for fun.

Scoring

0-30 : Beginner.

30-60 : Feeling Girly.

60-90 : Exploring Femininity.

90-120 : Crossdresser.

120-150 : Getting Kinky With it.

150-180 : Loud and Proud.

180-210 : Full-Blown Female Persona.

210-240 : Practically Female.

256 - Permanent Sissy

Bonus Achievements

Completionist : Complete all tasks in any category.

Lingerie Lover : Own all items in Panties, Bras, and Lingerie categories.

Fashionista : Own all items in Outfits and Shoes categories.

Female Training : Complete all tasks in Lifestyle and Training categories.

Sex Positive : Complete all tasks in Masturbation and Sex categories.

Experimentalist : Have at least one task completed in every single category.

Attention Whore : Complete all tasks in Cyber, Public, and Social categories.

[sealrock]

send LOST for a scene from my muse's past in which they felt lost, literally or figuratively

ask meme (closed)

(ty for the ask @aethergazing!)

Evander adjusted the wide-brimmed sunhat around his head for the umpteenth time this hour—it was much too big for the boy, on top of being itchy as the straw poked at his scalp. Despite his discomfort, Evander's mother wished to protect the crowns of her children from the noonday summer sun that baked the lands across Thanalan. While the streets of the Sapphire Avenue Exchange were covered with richly decorated tapestries to block out the overwhelming sunrays, the heat was inescapable thanks to the choking amount of people stuffed in the thoroughfare. Evander gripped Patroclus' stuffed tapir close to his chest—not that he was afraid, mind you, he's too old for that—he just didn't want someone to come up and snatch it, for that would mean excessive crying and temper tantrums.

Merchants hollered out their wares at slashed prices from every angle, city criers screamed louder than the merchants about the latest scandal, and carts of imported goods sluggishly made their way through the crowd of wealthy men and impeccably tailored women. Evander never liked coming here because of the crowds, for one could easily get lost if they weren't careful. But today, he and his younger brother Patroclus were pushed out of the house by his mother so that she could prepare his stepfather's nameday dinner. It happened to be one of the rare occasions that they left the safety of the manor without their parents, especially on a day like today. Evander felt well enough to venture out, but that didn't mean he wanted to. He had a mind to fake being sick but decided against it. He outright refused to wear matching outfits with his brother, however. He could dress himself just fine. 

The boys' nanny, Nanaqo Naqo, an otherwise absentminded Lalafellian woman, had her hands full this day as she triple-checked her list of to-do's while keeping her round ruby eyes on her young charges. She kept Evander flanked on her left and Patroclus on her right. Patroclus dutifully held onto Nanaqo's apron strings as he took in the sights and sounds of the thoroughfare with rapt interest, his green eyes sparkling with amazement. The young lad, no taller than Nanaqo and just four winters old, was dressed in light fabric of the finest quality—akin to a little sailor, with a sunhat similar to his elder brother, his thumb hooked in his mouth the whole while. Their mother thought it was adorable, but it was a habit their grandfather tended to frown upon. Evander skinned his nose up at the display, something he learned from his grandfather. Their mother never attempted to 'fix the issue' as his grandfather complained about. She and Evander's stepfather encouraged and enabled Patroclus to never grow up.

Patroclus and Evander may be brothers, but they share nothing in common. Patroclus was too immature to be on Evander's level of intellect, even if Evander had a five-year headstart. Most of Evander's tomes and journals were tarnished by Patroclus' impish desire to scribble on the pages. Before that, Patroclus would chew on the bindings or rip out the parchment as an infant whenever Evander attempted to bond with him. His mother dismissed Evander's frustration by buying him more books; she would offer hollow comfort in saying Patroclus didn't mean it. He was still a baby, after all.

Babies are no longer babies past the first year of life: Evander learned that from his treasured medical textbook, something he keeps out of Patroclus' reach with his grubby hands. Perhaps the material was too advanced for Patroclus; not everyone could be a (self-proclaimed) prodigy like Evander.

Evander blinked and allowed his eyes to refocus. With his head turned downward, Evander landed on his exposed toes between bejeweled sandals, the lavender tapir squeezed between his arms. Nanaqo never noticed the boy's ruminating as she agonized over fresh produce for what felt like half a day. But she was so preoccupied with her shopping list that she failed to realize Patroclus was missing.

Patroclus was missing.

Evander had a few ilms on the woman to see over her yellow hair, his eyes quickly scanning the area for a familiar sunhat. Patroclus was nowhere to be found.

Evander wanted to say something, but the words never came out. His attempts to silently grab his nanny's attention went unanswered with an irritated wave of her hand. He could see it now: his mother practically inconsolable with grief at the news of her youngest son's disappearance, and his stepfather's wish to turn the city inside-out for his only son. The family would be beside themselves, all while ignoring Evander.

With no other recourse, Evander swallowed down his nerves and snuck away into the crowd. When he wasn't weak from illness, Evander took to studying various atlases and the city's layout, so he had landmarks to guide him back to Nanaqo once he found his wayward brother. He shuffled between tall bodies, hoping not to be stepped on, as he weaved through the busy street. He kept his eyes forward and ears strained for any wailing calls for their mother, but Evander quickly became disorientated over the overwhelming amount of sounds.

Evander got knocked onto his back by a speeding courier, his sunhat tumbling to the cobblestone road. He fell right into an exposed spot of sunlight, the harsh light blinding him. He never let go of the stuffed tapir, however. It was the only thing that kept him anchored, and as childish as it sounded, its comforting presence kept him from crying. He's too old to cry, stony words his stepfather would tell him. No one was around to help him, so Evander had to toughen up.

Shaking off the dizziness, Evander brushed off his dirt-stained clothes and placed the sunhat back on his head. He walked a far distance away, and he still hadn't seen Patroclus. The Sapphire Avenue Exchange was a straight road, but it had many exits to alleyways and hidden corners that any mischievous four-year-old could hide in. Patroclus could be anywhere. The boy dipped into a random alley to escape the din of noise, only to land in a completely different world.

The alley was dark, dirty, and smelled of something foul. The sun wouldn't cast its light here. Evander got strange looks as he walked past adults with nothing better to do than loiter. His pace quickened when he saw, or thought he saw, someone brandish a weapon against a man he was arguing with. Feeling unsafe, Evander stepped back onto the main road and became swallowed once more by the hungering crowd. He was now further down the thoroughfare, in an area he wasn't familiar with. Evander felt anxiety settle in his stomach as he continued to walk, overcome with trembles. It had occurred to Evander that, maybe, he didn't know the streets of Ul'dah as well as he believed.

Evander was lost, and there was no one around to help him. Evander found a shaded spot to sulk in as he watched hundreds of faces pass him by without a second thought. The excursion left his belly griping for food—he would starve here. Evander curled into himself and let his eyes fall shut.

Surely, Evander's mother would mourn him. His aunt Cassandra would've seen this coming thanks to her 'predictions,' not that anyone believed her. The bad men would take him, especially the ones spoken about in the morning newspaper. He would read about missing persons and tales of how they were snatched up by Amalj'aa, fresh sacrifices for their god. That terrified Evander more than anything in the world. His whole life was ahead of him. He was too young to die, not now—

"Evie!"

Evander jumped up, wild eyes spotting a red-faced Patroclus on the other side of the street. His sunhat was missing, leaving his fluffy head of pitch-black hair uncovered to the afternoon sun. He appeared to have been crying... as per usual.

"Evie!"

Disregarding Nanaqo's rule of looking both ways, Patroclus ran to him on wobbly legs and outstretched hands. He crashed into Evander's skinny body before letting out a tired wail, snot and drool straining Evander's sweaty shirt. Evander finally dropped the tapir to hold his younger brother, shaking and unable to form words.

"I want mama, I–I want mama and papa!" Patroclus cried, heaving sobs soon catching the attention of unbeknownst pedestrians. Evander felt annoyance rise once the shock wore off. With care, Evander pulled Patroclus away to look him in the eye:

"You idiot! Where did you go? You know you shouldn't wander off like that!"

Patroclus' cries lowered to whimpers, his freckled face stained with tears, "I–I wanted a candied apple 'cause Nana said I would get one, but then I got lost..."

So that's what happened. Nanaqo took too long weighing literal apples and oranges, and Patroclus grew impatient. Evander huffed out a breath and handed the toy to his brother to hold. Patroclus grabbed it before wiping his runny nose against the fabric. Evander rolled his eyes before rising to his feet. He tried to smooth down his brother's hair like their mother would, but his fingers were too calloused from holding books all day. He didn't have the same loving touch as she did. He cringed as he used his handkerchief to wipe away the drying snot, a gentle motion he would catch his stepfather do, but Evander was too rough. Patroclus didn't seem too bothered, he stopped crying at least. His eyes were a bit swollen, and his cheeks a tinge of orange, but his breathing grew regulated.

"Where did your hat go?"

"... I don't know..."

Another huff. Patroclus could never keep track of his stuff. At least Evander keeps a log of where his items belong to. Now satisfied, Evander gathered his wits to begin the long trek back to the produce stand. But before he could take a step, a shrill voice reached his ears:

"BOYS! Oh, thank the Traders, you're both safe!"

Nanaqo looked more frazzled than usual as she gathered her skirt to rush over to their spot, her tidy bun slowly coming loose from stress. Sweat clung to her flushed skin, usually pale, from exertion. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates and filled with terror. Evander could only imagine what was going on in her thoughts, how she could've misplaced her employer's grandsons so easily. Guilt washed over Evander for causing her such worry.

"What happened?! Are you hurt?! Did anyone try any funny business with you?"

Evander glanced at Patroclus, who looked at him, "No, Ms. Naqo, we're fine. We, uh... we wanted to–"

"I want a candied apple!"

Evander glared at his brother. Nanaqo let out a long-suffering sigh and shook her head, but she didn't chastise them. She smiled, even. Nanaqo's seemingly infinite amount of patience continued to amaze Evander.

"Yes, yes, it completely slipped my mind. Come along, then, before the hour grows too late, I must return to my duties."

Instinctively, Patroclus grabbed Nanaqo's apron string, his other arm holding onto the stuffed tapir for comfort. Evander grabbed the other end, not that he needed to, but it would ease Nanaqo's frayed nerves some to know he was right behind her. With Nanaqo, the three of them walked through the street with ease.

"Um... Ms. Naqo?"

"Yes, Evander?"

Evander didn't want to ask, but he swallowed his pride.

"Don't tell grandfather about this. Or our parents."

He caught a small smile forming on her lips, "I wouldn't dream of it, dear. As long as you two are safe and sound, I won't say a word."

Evander released a quiet sigh of relief.

"And because you've been such a good lad looking after your brother, I'll get you two candied apples!"

Evander felt a youthful sense of glee come over him, and the question went out of his mouth before he could catch himself:

"The green apples? Covered in caramel?"

"Of course!"

[landofsamurai]

@jiraipink asked:

(For any muse you feel writing this for!)

Can women ever catch a break with these degenerate men?

Namida was on her way to Kagura's place to play that new video game Kamui bought for them, until she witnessed a pick-up artist harassing a girl persistently to try and get her to join him at a hotel for some sexual success. The girl was VERY CLEARLY uncomfortable and more than once told him she's not interested and is busy. This fucking loser is pissing Namida off. He probably thinks it's easy since the girl is alone. Not on her watch. She smiles cheerfully through her anger and waves a greeting hand in the air. "Beckyyyyy~! There you are! Who's that creep following you~?" She thought up a random name just to at least make it seem like they're friends and had purposely spoken aloud so bystanders can watch and judge the guy. The pick-up artist was taken aback by Namida and was getting antsy that he didn't realize the girl he was pursuing ran away while he was distracted.

That's good, but before Namida could walk off proudly with a mission accomplished, the annoying guy suddenly stops her from going anywhere with his sandal stomped against the wall beside her head like a kabedon except with his foot. He glares down at Namida with a shadowy expression befitting for a flashy delinquent. "Oi oi oiiiiiii~ What's your purpose here, huh? If you hadn't come, that girl wouldn't have run off." Namida pretends to act clueless and blinks a couple times with innocent purple eyes, even though the guy could tell he was being mocked by her teasing tone of voice. "Eeeehh~? It looked like you were harassing her though? She ran away from YOU, after all. Be sure not to go overboard when picking up girls. Didn't you know? Clingy men are unpopular~"

He clicks his tongue and removes his foot away from the wall. His eyes studying her form up and down as he shakes his Slurpee drink in circles. "Geeeeeez. Anyway, the heck are you even wearing? You think you look cute dressed like that? You know that guys don't like that though right?" Ah yes of course. She's been in this situation before. When a guy doesn't get the girl, he immediately goes for the shaming tactic. As if his words rang any truth in them to begin with. Namida is well aware how attractive she is to men. Especially when all dolled up in her favorite Dark Girly fashion. She simply giggles and plays along. "Eheheh~! I'm aware, buuuuuut." Her index fingers create an X shape sign and she smiles a bit TOO nicely. "I'm not some guy's dress up doll, iiiiiiidiot~"

His eyebrow twitches, but Namida presses on. It was her turn to comment on his appearance as she gives him the ol' 'slowly judging you up and down' look. He looked like he went inside a thrift shop and picked out random clothes from a single rack that consisted of cheetah prints, shorts and beach clothes. He could've pulled off the male gyaru look, if only everything wasn't so mismatched. This dumbass really thought he could pick up girls looking so sleazy? "Anyways, who are you to be saying this to me? Look at yourself. I mean, it's whatever. As long as you think it looks cool, I guess~" That REALLY got to him. "You little-!" He was increasingly getting more and more pissed at seeing that fake ass smile the more she spoke with. He pulls out a pocket knife and attempts to throw drink his drink at her to ruin her expensive blouse.

Nobume had been within the Kabuki district since Princess Soyo had wanted to visit Kagura. Of course, since she had become the princess’ body guard she would tag along anywhere to assure her safety. Nobume didn't really have much else she desired doing given how the Mimawarigumi didn't exist anymore. Since she had finished dropping the princess off, Nobume decided to grab some donuts before going back. 

 She'd nibble on her donuts while on her way back when she witnessed a woman being harassed. It certainly did bother her. Men in Edo Japan did not think highly of women, only seeing them as sex objects, or as people weak and inferior to them which led to such a sight. It really irked her. People have attempted similar things with her too, and it always ended badly. For them.

 Nobume was about to step in but… another oddly dressed woman did that instead. She would still observe, just to be safe. It was relieving to see the first woman managing to escape, but the one that remained would likely become a target too.

 It was nice to see a woman as brave as her, something that was rare given the way men made women feel a lot of the time. Because, just like Nobume thought….

 This woman ended up targeted too. She was quick to jump in, although ended up getting drenched with the guy's drink, but she wasn't bothered by it. Her sword was unsheathed before immediately piercing the guy's arm to get him to drop his weapon.

“Men shouldn't get so upset when being told the truth.” She would keep the guy pierced without batting an eye then looked to check on the person that had been harassed.

“Are you okay? I had been observing since he started bothering the other girl, and had to intervene the minute a weapon was pulled out.” She'd rip out her sword from the guy's arm and held it at her side,

“To be honest though, as unusual as your clothes are… I do think they're really cute.” It was only then she realized she had dropped her bag of donuts, seeing the bag collapsed on the ground a few feet away.

“My donuts…” Despite her monotone voice, it was obvious she was just a little peeved over that. It's fine though, she can buy more.

[skippyv20]

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim here trying to help many see the major problems with this kind of cut & paste photo job.  The creators did not do a good job with the body proportions!  They are way off!  Also, as mentioned on another site, the flash should have caste a big shadow behind PA.  That is really a big mistake.  Also, GM is only 5’ 4" (I checked many sites and most say this is her height) so she should not be taller standing behind VG.  Here are more press notes about this timeline showing how outlandish VG’s outfit is for this fake photo!

“March 2001 - Infamous photograph of Virginia, Ghislaine and Prince Andrew is reportedly taken at Ghislaine’s home in London.” It was reported VG was in Mayfair at Tramp, which is a members only nightclub called “The Hedonistic Mayfair Nightclub…or the most decadent club in London…debached nightclub” Why is a teenager allowed to show up in this casual outfit going to that kind of place? Women tend to wear much more glitzy-glam outfits. Kids are probably not allowed in. Here is something from a site called Privilege Entertainment with dress code rules for places like this. “Dress-Code for Ladies -If you are on the guestlist or you have a private/VIP table booked you must adhere to the London Clubs dress code rules. We have gathered here some quick tips. ● Outfit: a cocktail / mini / short dress (black is the best choice but also blue, white and red); also black trousers and crop top/shirt; jeans are fine; skirt/mini-skirt with a sexy T-shirt/shirt. ● Shoes: heels are a must, better if high heels. Elegant boots are a good alternative. Avoid flat shoes, trainers and sandals. ● Makeup & hairstyle: never forget to enhance your eyes with some mascara or eyeliner and have clean, fixed hair (ponytail, bun, straight). You can freestyle a bit but do not overdo.” Next party event where VG shows up in this outfit is with GM looking rather timid and out of place. “May 2001 - Naomi Campbell hosted a boat party in the French Riviera with Jeffrey Epstein, Virginia, Ghislaine Maxwell all attending.” Campbell’s birthday is May 22. 1970. The birthday party must have been close to that date. In photos you can see her clearly baffled why a very young, diminutive, blond teenager-wearing this exact outfit-is standing in front of her looking lost in the stern of the yacht in St. Tropez, swimming with sharks.

Over and out from a pretty day on the Cape.

Great post!  And the artwork…wow!  Thank you!!!!🙂❤️

[dr-akeda-amuesments]

“How are you doing? I’m Zale Petro, the Ultimate Sub. And no, I don’t mean substitute teacher…but you can call me whatever you want, hmhm.~”

Meet Zale Petro, The Ultimate Sub.

Age: 21

Pronouns: Uses He/Him, But Doesn’t Really Mind.

Nationality: Greek

Likes: Pleasure, Foggy Weather, Book Stores

Dislikes: Liars, Mullets, Pickles

Birthday: September 9th

Appearance: Zale is a toned guy, standing at around 6’1”. He has fiery red hair and captivating blue eyes, along with fake full moon glasses. He wears a light brown cardigan, with a low black shirt under it, along with black and white shorts. His outfit is completed with well made brown sandals. Finally, all over his chest, there are tons of lipstick marks, and a few…other marks.

Backstory: Zale has always said his life started whenever he had a fling with a girl in his chemistry class. It was when his eyes were opened to more in the world. More happiness, more pleasure. And the wonderful ability to provide people with immeasurable amounts of it. He knew what he wanted to do with the rest of life, had it all figured out at 17, he wanted to make people feel good, no matter the cost. This, naturally, caused him to become a notorious player in his high school. You’d think from his flirty persona that he’d be quite well at making women fall to their knees…but he was much happier with it the other way around. This caused him to see everything as mere foreplay, but oh well, he’s living his dream.

[mercurygray]

So, I was naughty and asked Mr Juno for two random numbers between 1 and 50. And he gave me 22 and 41.

Tongue and Peach 🤣 its all his fault. For any character of your choice (although I dare you to do Dick or Lewis for this one)

Juno xx

I realized I hadn't written anything for Lew in a bit, so here we have a little postwar naughtiness for him and Eileen.

Los Angeles was beautiful at this time of year.

At least, that's what people kept telling him, the cab driver and the production assistant and the director, but Lewis was beginning to have some doubts that he'd ever get to see any of Los Angeles at all, at the rate movies got made. And there wasn't much to call beautiful on a studio backlot.

The woman he was here for was still in makeup. That's what people also kept telling him, as he arranged and re-arranged himself on a studio chair. Someone had brought him a cup of coffee, but coffee was the last thing on his mind - or the supposed beauty of the city of Los Angeles.

What he wanted was Eileen.

"Oh, Miss Hammond? She's still in makeup, sir."

Sadly, however, the rest of the world now wanted her, too - Eileen Hammond, the darling of the camera, contracted to Paramount for the next ten years and however many pictures they could put her into, ready to make all that good press sing for them. At this point it seemed like she'd played everything with everyone - a comedy? Done. High drama? With flying colors. A war picture? She'd done several. Noir? No one could do femme fatale like Eileen.

Today's offering was some sword and sandals epic, the men tanned and armored, the women in long, flowing Roman dress. He wasn't sure what Eileen would be wearing in this scene - she was, as people kept reminding him, still in makeup.

"Well, hello, handsome."

Here she was, finally - the woman of the hour, finally out of the artist's chair. And what a picture she was. Dark hair styled into an impossibly high wig, decked with fake jewels and purple and pale silk - designed to be noticed and dressed to be seen. "Hello yourself," Lewis said, rising from the chair to greet her only to be gently pushed back into it.

"I'd kiss you, but then I'd spoil the look," she said quietly with a smile. "But I'm so glad you could come." She turned back to the waiting crowd of technicians. "All right, Fred, your Empress is here. Where do you want me?"

The assistant gestured. "Just here, Miss Hammond."

Miss Hammond, Miss Hammond, Miss Hammond. Never 'Eileen' or 'hey, you.' She was a god here, and it showed. There was an air of effortless command - the certain knowledge that she was a star.

She took her mark on the fake stone pavement, a small fan slowly blowing the oyster silk of her dress forward, against the back of her legs, and throwing everything into sharp relief, the small of her back and perfect peach-rise of her ass.

God, her ass. Lewis quickly and strategically removed his hat and rearranged himself in his chair. Hot, here, was it?

He couldn't hear a word of what was said - he was too distracted. When the director called cut and everyone moved again, Lewis rose from the chair and met her behind the camera. "Miss Hammond, I need you to know you are putting me in a bit of a bind, wearing that thing."

Eileen looked down at her dress like she'd only just noticed it. "Oh, am I? How nice to hear, Mr. Nixon, when you've been putting me in a bit of a bind by phone three nights a week."

Well, she had him there. But phone sex was one thing and real sex was another, and he'd been dreaming about that ass for the entire plane ride here. "Maybe we can find some time later to work that out? You know, amidst your other appointments."

She smiled, a private expression just for him. "Why do you think I had them put your chair there? I'm going to require it." She leaned in, her voice a whisper mere inches from his ear. "There's a line I was doing yesterday with William about finding better uses for his tongue and I couldn't stop thinking of you."

Words momentarily escaped him, and the only thing he could manage for a moment was a small noise of delight, which seemed to please her. She looked up at another passing assistant, the Empress once more. "Dora, can you be a dear? I expect Mr. Nixon needs some ice water. He's looking a little hot."

"Of course, Miss Hammond, right away!"

He could only glare as she carefully flounced away, back to the cameras and the director and the whole mad whirl, waiting with her back still strategically to him, his hat still strategic over his pants, while the chirpy little co-ed came back with the water. "Have you gotten to see much of Los Angeles yet, Mr Nixon? It's beautiful this time of year."

Lewis resumed his review of Eileen's ass and tried to play it cool. "Yes, it rather is."

[hopefulkidshark]

Panghat: Meaning

Panghat is a Hindi compound word combining pani (water) and ghat (steps leading to a water body). In poetic lore it refers to a river bank where Lord Krishna used to hang out around Gopis.

Lord Krishna & Gopis on Panghat Painting

Rama Ho Rama Humne Gaon Ke Panghat Pe - by Mukesh in Ek Bechara (1972)

Film cast: Jeetendra, Rekha, Vinod khanna, Pran, Bindu, Kalpana,  Johny Walker, Anwar Hussan, Salome

Singer: Asha Bhosle, Lata Mangeshkar

Lyricist: Anand Bakshi (This Song was Written on Indian context)

Translation of This funny Song

In our country, it was said

That every girl is Hindustani

Either Radha or Sita or Rani of Jhansi.

We had seen woman carrying water at Bank of river or well in the village.

But We became dizzy after seeing these women of the cities.

Here are the roads, there were lanes,

Here are thorns, there were buds,

There was a tanga (two wheel carriage) Here is a vehicle with four wheels

There was fairy, Here is madam

There was anklets, Here is sandal,

There was a chandelier, here is the pandel,

There was a veil, Here is splendor (Charm)

There was peace, Here is rebellion

With small Matter they make preparations for fighting,

Some are nightingals, some are butterflies,

Some are fire, Some electricity,

Some M.A., Some are B.A., Some are P.A.

Just the name is a real one

The rest is all fake,

No  Pallanquin 

No wedding procession 

They Choose life partner themselves

Often virgins makes love before marriage

We became dizzy after seeing these women of the cities

Video on You Tube