#like its unwearable

[purpldawne]

ik i always joke about how i never cosplay women but like. i really don't do i

[javen-tiger]

moths have also eaten my favourite dress. granted moths had eaten it when i bought it but its much worse now.

[anawkwardlady]

I feel like so much clothes sold now are completely unwearable unless it's for one or two insta picture or tiktok get ready with me. or if you are some kind of influencer who can get away with it

[shadyhouse]

soooo im having kind of an emergency situation, the tl;dr of it is that i need to buy two new pairs of shoes for work but i only have $50 to last me until next week. i started a new position at work that requires waterproof shoes, and i THOUGHT my boots were waterproof but i learned the hard way that they very much are not. my one pair of work shoes are now falling apart, so i need to buy new work shoes AND rain boots. i cant go to work without shoes obviously, but i need to go to work to like. live and survive. im very distraught about this, i dont know what else to even do.

if anyone wants to help me out it would be very very VERY appreciated 😭😭😭

paypal.me/bewearrr

vnm: tobias_leviathan

[criminal-sen]

Wahoooooo we're coming off the tail end of a decent snowstorm only to have another coming thru later today, which might be dumping over a foot of snow in the area where I live

Translation: more days off work>:3c which means more time for my obsessions>:D

[this-doesnt-endd]

Powder notes in perfume are like not the devil yall are just babies

[makedamnsvre]

throwback to a couple of days ago and i showed my mom + sister that picture of monkey cat luna in front of the tv playing death note and my sister was like 'death note is stupid' or something and i pointedly looked down at my death note t shirt that i was wearing

[clown-princess]

GIR HOODIE GIR HOODIE GIR HOODIE

GIR HOODIE!!!

[sunjoys]

wanting to be cool and upcycling by sewing patches over tears and permanent stains in my jeans versus most of those tears or stains being in the crotch area meaning any patch will just draw focus to there

[nomaishuttle]

it was pretty fun except i got randomly rly upset and now im still upset. sigh

[night-raven-tattler]

Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?

Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.

Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail

You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened

But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all

He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other

Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino

And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby

And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state

"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."

Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes

"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."

You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you

"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."

Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking

Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.

"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."

Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot

To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away

All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape

And he stared right back at you

Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."

You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him

...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek

He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face

"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."

That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat

『••✎••』

Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs

Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus

Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd

They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures

Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself

They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer

Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will

You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all

After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring

He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you

"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."

You stared at Jade suspiciously

Was he handing you a shirt just like that?

He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth

"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"

No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective

"What? No! That's not it!"

"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"

"I- no! Ugh!"

Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin

"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"

Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense

"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."

"..."

"..."

"...Are you sure?"

"Certainly."

You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it

Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome

"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."

"As you wish."

So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face

You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform

『••✎••』

Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining

He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word

Or every word that you could understand, at least

And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel

So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves

"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"

Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"

While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes

"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"

The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively

"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."

A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside

"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."

"What about cleaning duty?"

"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."

After Epel's convincing, you relented

But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...

Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....

Epel did not talk to you the next day

Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets

When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens

"I hate you."

That was all he said before walking away

『••✎••』

During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather

1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard

2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain

3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof

Neither was your shirt

So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet

You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror

His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament

"...Child of man? What happened to you?"

You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already

"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.

Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend

He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached

"Allow me to help you."

You sighed of relief at his decision

Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help

You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell

Boy were you wrong.

Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind

The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place

You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors

You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard

After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again

"That... That certainly was a method of helping."

"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."

He smiled proudly at you

It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise

You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry

"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"

"You are very welcome."

His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room

The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce

After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face

『••✎••』

[selfmessages]

Can you please do König x male reader whos short (like 5’4) and likes to wear kinda feminine things and sometimes needs help reaching things? (Like im a dude but GOD DAMN or short shorts comfy as hell- like- idk man but its so comfy but if you bent over or try to reach something up high a bit of your ass is gonna show *hint hint*)

Feel free to ignore if you dont wanna write this! Have a good day!

König x short M!reader who likes feminine clothes

Warnings: reader wears feminine clothes, anal sex(off-screen consent)

With how short you are, König wouldn’t even call you maus, you’d be little maus.

König will tease you by resting his elbow on your head to remind you of how much height he has on you.

You’re so short and cute, he loves how easily he can wrap himself completely around you. He loves the idea of using his huge body to protect you from danger.

To say he likes seeing you in feminine clothes is an understatement. He's constantly trying to control his excitement when he sees you in skirts, heels, thigh-highs, shorts, etc. He can't help it when you look so good in everything you wear.

Speaking of shorts, you love to wear them around the house. They’re so comfy and cute, and they make your ass look good.

You’ve noticed that when you wear them, König’s eyes are on you way more than usual. You can’t help but want to tease him.

And what better way to do that than by purposely throwing yourself in his line of sight and bending over because you ‘"accidentally dropped something?”

König sees the way your ass strains against your shorts and the way the bottom of your ass peeks out.

You'll get away with it for the first few times because König is kind of oblivious. But he eventually catches on, and if it’s attention you want from König, you’ll get it.

-

"Ah- ah, Köni, slow down!"

König grips your hips as he thrusts into your hole. You’d teased König one too many times, and he finally snapped. Snatching you up and bending you over the counter.

You were "struggling" to reach a cup that was on the top shelf. Reaching up and standing on your tippy toes so that your shorts lifted and König got a perfect view of your plump ass. You knew what you were doing. That’s exactly why your brain is being fucked out by König now.

"K-Köni I can't, it’s too much."

"You can take it, little maus, I know you can."

König stares at his cock disappearing into your sloppy hole. It drives him feral. You continued to moan while König grinded up against your prostate with every thrust, causing your back to arch and you to push back up against him.

"Köni, I'm gonna-"

You came with a scream. Your whole body twitches; had it not been for König holding your waist, you would’ve fallen. With a few more thrusts, König spills his load inside you with a groan. Gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise, he rides out his orgasm inside your fluttering hole. He pulls out, making you whine. "Are you okay, maus?" He stokes your hair, attempting to comfort you.

You nod, utterly exhausted.

"Let’s get you cleaned up."

König picks you up, kisses your forehead, and takes you to your shared bedroom.

Bonus

"What the heck, König?! These were my favorite shorts!"

You dangle your ripped shorts in front of his face. Your shorts were torn in half and completely unwearable. König really didn’t mean to rip them apart. How was he supposed to know the fabric was so flimsy?

"I’m sorry! It was an accident, mein engel. I’ll get you new ones, I promise.”

You know König didn’t do it on purpose, so you can’t stay mad at him.

“Okay I forgive you…but they have to be f/c, you got that?”

 (And he get you new ones because he’s such a good hubby. <3)

[xxsunoosprincess]

Reunion

Jake x fem!reader

Your first night with Jake after months apart.

MDNI, 18+, not full out fucking but pretty close, college!AU, fem bodied!reader, talks of consent, humor, fluff, smut, long distance couple, reunion sex, feeling overwhelmed, not edited because I didn’t feel like it sorry

“Fuck, baby Fuck” Jake is panting hotly against your mouth, desperately pawing at your top. He’s going at it blind— he’s too busy drinking in your beautiful face being so close to his after so long— so sue him if he stretches out the neckline of your top to get your tits out. It’s some cheap cami you packed to sleep in during the long weekend you are spending in Jake’s dorm. Secretly he is happy that stupid tank top is gone, anyway. ‘Opportunistic’ feels like too sophisticated of a word to call a man that is actively humping against the meat of your ass, but he grins to himself as he pictures ruining every single shirt you brought so you are forced to wear his shirts instead.

He’s on some brain dead, gooner train of thought about maybe ruining your panties, too; soiling them with his cum; having you soak through them until they are unwearable; tear them apart trying to get to your cunt; anything so that you spend the weekend not only in his shirts but with no bottoms so he can fuck you whenever; when you notice the mess he has made of your top.

“Jakey” you whine, feeling silly trying to scold him. Especially because his eyes are trained on your boobs when you talk to him. It makes you giggle when he mindlessly hums out in acknowledgment. “D’ya forget my eyes are up here?” Your voice is gentle despite the heat building in your tummy.

“You say something hun?” He says, and you have no time to think about it if was a joke or not because he’s hardly done talking before his he is taking a nipple into his mouth. His eyes roll back as he feels you keen into him, as if he hasn’t spent the last thirty minutes mouthing at the skin on your neck. But spending so much time apart is hard. It’s so hard. He talks to you on the phone every night, texts you all day long, jerks off to the thought of you at least once every day, and maybe all that pining makes his dick grow fonder because having you in his lap is so much better than whatever image his mind could conjure up.

Maybe your nipples aren’t even all that sensitive, but the way that he licks, and sucks, and bites, and pinches… fuck it would take a lot less to make you moan the way you are now. His eyes flutter closed as he hums against your tit, and his hands greedily run up and down your back. Occasionally, he detours when he reaches the bottom, taking your ass into his hands and spreading you so he can slot the bulge in his pants between your cheeks. The dry friction of your panties and his shorts somehow makes this feel so lewd. I mean fuck he’s literally drooling, a hot line of spit slowly searing its way down your stomach.

“Fuck I missed you baby. Missed the way you taste, missed your soft skin, missed the way you moan so sweet for me. You feel that? Feel how hard I am for you. You are the only person that could ever make me feel like this.” His coos and babbling is endless, already pussy drunk, already leaking a downright obscene amount of tacky precum and making a mess of his boxers, and he hasn’t even undressed you properly. It’s all so hot you can’t help but desperately grasp the cropped hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close. He’s practically suffocating in your chest, but still he gazes up at you, unfocused eyes and a dopey grin, and god. Your hips grind down with extra intent.

He coos at you before he’s moving to lay you back. It’s a twin xl, but he has really tried to make this as comfortable as possible for you. He swapped out his single, flat pillow for three memory foam ones after you laughed at his set up the first time you visited. It makes a perfect backrest as he lays you out like feast. And as he sits back onto his calves, his gaze is so intense that it leaves you blushing despite being in this position many times before. It makes you nervous; the way your sweet and dorky boyfriend now looks so intense. Not even the Lego sets on the shelf you catch a view of just over his shoulder distracts you from how hot he looks.

His hair has grown out since the last time you saw him. FaceTime didn’t do him justice. Now, it nearly obscures his eyes and comes to a soft curl at his ear. You resist the urge to sit up and tuck it away, instead you grip at the white and blue striped comforter beneath you.

“Hey,” his voice cuts through the air and his hand falls to rest on your hip, thumbing the elastic band of your panties. “You okay? Lost you there for a second.”

His smile reminds you that this is still Jake. He looks just a little more mature, a little more buff but it’s still Jake. You nod a bit, reaching down to interlace your fingers with his. It was only 3 months you had spent apart, but right now, it feels as if it has been so long you are laying bare beneath him for the first time.

“Yeah just…” you shrug. He squeezes your hand. “It’s been a while”.

His smile fades a bit, a small frown coming across his face. “Yeah…” he says, confusion lacing his tone.

There is a beat of silence, “I like… I don’t know. You look different. Hotter.”you clarify before he draws an incorrect conclusion. There is some slack as his grip on your hand loosens and you are quick to tighten your own hold. “Like so hot I’m nervous” you admit easily, though your laugh as some strain behind it.

His frown deepens, “Do you wanna stop? You know I would never be upset about that.” His head tilts to the side, the same way it does when you guys study together on a call and a problem set stumps him.

“No I don’t think so…” you start slowly “unless you want to!” quickly follows, and just as fast he is shaking his head ‘no’. His dick hasn’t flagged once in the last hour.

“Okay” he drawls out, “if you aren’t sure then why don’t we stop for a second? We can just cuddle for a bit and talk until your nerves are calmed down. And if you want to fuck later, we fuck later.” There is a gentle smile on his face that feels like home, even as your heartbeat hammers in fear of disappointing him.

“It’s our first night together in months though…” you trail off, your voice is quiet and your free hand reaches for the plushie jammed between the wall and his bed absentmindedly in search of comfort.

He picks up your leg and swings it to the other side of his body so he is no longer trapped between your thighs, letting go of your hand only briefly as he lays down next to you. His head is propped up in his hand as the other caresses your stomach “I know… and I want you, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not putting my dick in you until your mind is in the right place”

You nod, as your eyes flutter closed “yeah… yeah. I just got a little overwhelmed, I think. It feels silly, like I’ve seen you jerk off over FaceTime about a thousand times, but actually seeing you… touching you… it was so much more intense.”

He looks over your face, heart skipping a beat as he recognizes the vulnerability you are showing, and then aching as he registers the sheepish tone in your voice. “If this means anything… I was really nervous about tonight too.” You open your eyes to see his crooked smile.

“Really?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He nods.

“Y/n, I went with Sunoo to get my dick waxed.” He says flatly, knowing it will make you laugh. It does.

“Oh? I didn’t mind your pubes.” You say honestly, although, it is through giggles. He smiles big, showing all his teeth and giggles with you. He reaches down to tug his waistband down a bit, and now that you are looking, his happy trail is gone and the sliver of skin you can see just under his hipbones is bare.

“I know you didn’t, pervert.” He teases. You make an affronted noise and smack his chest lightly. “I just got in my head about how this had to be really good sex. Like out of a romance novel, mind blowing, reunion sex. I started thinking about… if you would like how I looked and I got a little carried away.” He blushes but doesn’t look away from you.

“Jakey…” you turn to face him “you know I don’t care about stuff like that. Just being with you again is enough.”

He nods as if to say ‘exactly!’ And your mouth hangs open in understanding. “Oh.” you say, eloquently.

“I just want you.“ he says, bottom lip pulling into a pout and the corners of his lips tug upwards the way they do right before he breaks into a shit-eating grin, knowing his weird waxing story would make you understand.

“Stop looking at me like that!” You laugh. He wiggles his eyebrows in an exaggerated display of lust. You let out a grown of faux exasperation as he rolls you onto your back and kisses his way up your neck to your lips. You exchange a few slow kisses, smiling against his lips as he grips under your thigh to ruck your leg up against his waist.

“You’re so sexy it kills me. Even if we don’t fuck tonight, know that I find you irresistible” he whispers against the shell of your ear, grinning as you giggle and shy away from his ticklish breath.

“Such a sap” it’s a cheap deflection, but he pulls back to grin down at you and you smile back, reaching up to cup the back of his head before pulling him into a series of short kisses.

You squeal as he flips the both of you over, now having you straddling his lap, just as you guys started. Something sweet settles low in your stomach, a gentle and pleasant weight that grounds you. Reminds you. This is still your Jakey.

A/n: reunion… hah… get it… because I’m back and reunited with you guys. Realistic and awkward smut scenes make me smile. That’s all byyyee come say hi to me in my requests :p xx - princess

taglist: @criminalyun @jungwon-wife @sunoofairyofsass @cha0thicpisces (message me to be added)

[wri0thesley]

ruin - mahito x reader (2.8k)

mahito has a little present for you.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. reader is afab and mentions past wearing of a dress, no other gendered terms are used. unhealthy relationship (as is so constant with mahito), dub-con. blood, manipulation of mahito's body parts, biting, fingering. threat of future death (mahito is his own warning, let's be real!).

The strap dangles off of Mahito’s finger, the ruffles and lace and chiffon of the delicate concoction that the curse is holding blowing slightly in the breeze that runs through the sewers at night. His grin is wide enough to make anticipation that might be fear prickle over the back of your neck, and you take a deep breath and swallow as you stare at him and the garment. 

“Well?” He asks you, his smile not leaving his mouth, the two colours of his eyes glimmering brightly in the night. “Aren’t you going to say ‘thank you’?”

“I didn’t know if it was for you,” you say to him, truthfully - though you’ve never seen Mahito in anything but his trademark soft trousers and shirt, he’s often tugged at your own laces and your own buttons, been fascinated by the way that garments are constructed, giggled once as he’d slipped his hand beneath the hem of a dress you were wearing to investigate the layers of tulle and organza beneath that gave the skirt shape. He’d followed you through the city once and lingered at the window of a maid cafe, wondering aloud to anyone who could hear (that, again, had just been you) what it would feel like to be one of those maids.

Beholden to the customers who walked in, calling them ‘Master’ and bowing subserviently and pulling cute little poses when asked, drawing hearts in dessert sauce atop of ice cream sundaes--

(Mahito doesn’t need to eat, but he’d snuck a few bites of an ice cream you’d attempted to buy for just yourself, back when you were pretending that he wasn’t following you and you were a totally normal person. Since then, he’s barely shut up about it - a child trying his new favourite food, pouting and whining when you try and say no to his demands. It’s easier to give him. You think it’s going to be easier to give in here, too).

His face falls into a pantomime of disappointment, his mouth pulling almost too wide at the downturned corners.

“You don’t like it?” He asks, with the air of an injured bunny rabbit. “I picked it out especially! The store had all sorts of these fancy underwears, but I looked at them all very very carefully and thought about what would look best on you and checked the size tags in the underwear you’ve left here--”

That’s the underwear that he’s ripped off of you, then. The underwear that’s a lost cause; the ones that you haven’t worn back to your shitty little apartment because they are quite literally unwearable. Mahito acts like you left them here, in his sewer, the way an ordinary couple leave the detritus of their lives in one another’s bedrooms and bathrooms and kitchens. 

“It’s really nice of you,” you try and say, swallowing dryly, your eyes flitting nervously between the lingerie and the curse. “It’s just . . .”

He steps forward, his pace deliberate and lazy. You walk a tightrope with Mahito; he tells you you’re his favourite and grins at you and pokes your cheeks and you feel special, yes. You choose to come back to this sewer time and time again, to let yourself be drawn into his cool embrace and to kiss him back when he kisses you and to breathe in the scent of sweet rot and fresh grass that follows him wherever he goes. But sometimes . . .

Sometimes you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, when you say something he doesn’t like. A narrowing of his eyes, a twist of his lip. Sometimes he speaks to you in a voice that drips with honey, but seems to hide the edge of a blade in its sharp consonants. Sometimes he laughs when you say something you mean, the tone high and cruel, and you wonder if he’s thinking about placing his hands upon you and shaping you into a thing that can no longer speak or reply or act on its own behalf. 

This moment is one of those tightrope moments, you think. Mahito tilts his head to the side and repeats, voice still deceptively slow and soft like wading through molasses. 

“You don’t like it, cutie?”

“Of course I do,” tumbles out of your mouth, and Mahito must notice the edge of panic because his eyes crinkle at the corners and he lets out a soft little huff of laughter. He takes another step, and then he’s in front of you - you can hear the water of the sewer lapping against concrete, your own heart beating too fast in your chest. You’re suddenly aware of everything - your breath in the air, the clothes you’re wearing and the places they stick to your body, the bead of cold sweat trickling down the nape of your neck. “It’s lovely.”

“Good,” Mahito says, looking inordinately pleased with himself - one hand reaches out for you, grabbing your chin, and before you can react you’ve been pulled into a kiss. Mahito’s mouth against yours is cool; his teeth nip at your lips without much care, his tongue teasing the seam of your own. His scent swirls around you, his nails digging into the soft underflesh of your jaw--

You feel your body respond to Mahito’s man-handling, to the knowledge of who it is who’s currently kissing you - the twist of arousal like a bullet in your gut, the heat that fills your cheeks. 

He breaks the kiss with a wet pop, a satisfied look in his eyes. Limned by the shine of the moon and stars and city street lights that make it here to his little sewer sanctuary, he’s beautiful. You know you’ll do whatever he asks of you. 

“Because I can’t wait to see you in it,” he says, with a grin. He offers you the lingerie again, and you have no choice but to reach out with a trembling hand to take it. 

It’s clearly expensive. Mahito doesn’t pay for anything, of course - it would be hard for someone who cannot be seen by most to make a purchase at a cashier - but you can’t help the thrill of feeling special that goes through you as you handle it. It’s a little white lace number, frilled at the straps, flounced at the waist into a short cascade of ruffles that will sit high on the thigh. The fabric is sheer and delicate, wispy enough that it feels as though it might rip merely from being looked at. 

(It won’t survive a night with Mahito, but as you stare down at it, you try not to think about that). 

Crystals sparkle, sewn carefully onto cups and edges. The tiny ribbon tag proclaims that Mahito was right; he did painstakingly pick out your size. 

He stares at you with barely contained anticipation, tapping one of his feet.

“Well?” He asks, eagerly. “Aren’t you going to put it on? I wanna rip it off as soon as I can, heh. . .” 

“In front of you?” Your brow creases. 

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t seen you before!” His tone is teasing, but there’s that look in his eye again; you’ll have to tread carefully, to diffuse this one. Sometimes he likes it when you play the over-innocent - finds it amusing, he says, how cute you can be sometimes. How purposely obtuse, how unobservant . . . You deliberately fiddle with the pretty piece of lingerie, press your mouth forward into a pout and will heat to come into your cheeks. 

“I just . . . thought you’d like it more if it were a surprise. . .” You say, and the danger in Mahito’s gaze passes again in favour of another wide smile. He laughs, a joyous head-thrown-back kind of noise.

“Ah!” He says. “You’re right, cutie. A surprise!” He pivots on his heel and deliberately claps his palms over his eyes, enjoying himself. “I’ll count to twenty!” He calls backwards to you - you can hear the smile in his voice, the giddy excitement at your suggestion. A little tension drains from your shoulders. “When I get there, I’m going to turn around and see you in it and have my wicked way with you! One!”

When he starts counting, you realise how little time you actually have to shed your current clothes and get into what he’s given you - and you don’t particularly want to know how sulky he’ll be if he turns around to discover that you haven’t gotten his gift on in time. By the time he’s reached seven, you’re shivering and naked in the sewer (not the first time, you think ruefully), your clothes in a pile before you. You carefully tug the new lingerie on, your fingers fumbling with clasps. By the count of fifteen, it’s at least on you and fastened, though it’s not quite laying correctly and you’re pulling ruffles out from where they’ve gotten caught up with one another.

By the count of nineteen, breathless and sweaty, you’re just about presentable. 

There’s no time for you to worry about how exactly the white might accentuate flaws and insecurities when Mahito is happily calling out ‘twenty!’ and whirling around with a grin on his face that seems to glow with a frightening otherworldly light. There’s one brief flash of fear the moment he claps his hands together and his eyes drink you in for the first time--

(If you’re not good enough, or found wanting, what might he do to you? Will the kisses and the proclamations of how much he likes you and adores you and how good you taste, how good you feel, how soft and warm and human and desirable you are mean nothing to him? The nights you’ve spent panting into one another’s mouths, the stuttering groan out of his throat the first time you touched his carefully manufactured cock, all come to naught?) 

But then he’s grinning. 

“Why,” he says, with a smile like the big bad wolf. “I did a great job, huh? Cutie, you look good enough to eat--!”

And then, like the big bad wolf all over again,in one graceful movement he’s pounced like an animal and he’s upon you. 

He’s a clash of teeth and tongue, interspersed with breathless laughter and long fingers pulling at delicate fabrics. He pants into your mouth, simply enjoying himself - his hands roaming all over the curves and the lines of your body, taking great handfuls and palmfuls and squeezing them deliberately hard until you squeak into his kiss and he laughs breathlessly again. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and you taste the coppery droplet at the same time as you hear one the delicate lace straps rip and your shoulder is left bare.

“Oops,” says Mahito, pulling back, but by his grin and the twinkle in his eyes you have no doubt that he meant to do it - and no doubt, too, that he does not feel a shred of shame for doing so despite the craftsmanship that must have gone into this garment. “Oh well . . . now it’s broken, I won’t worry about ripping the rest of it off!”

He dives back into devouring you. His lips brush your jawline, down the line of your throat, teeth grazing and nipping at the vulnerable flesh there. Your core and your heart pound as one until you can’t tell what’s fear and what’s arousal. There’s no matching underwear for this little negligee number and you hadn’t risked Mahito’s ire by keeping your own on, so your sex is bare - and you feel a trickle of your own slick on your inner thighs, smearing damp. Your breath catches as Mahito gives you a particularly hard bite with teeth you don’t remember being quite so sharp last time he had bitten you. 

He laughs again. 

“You’re adorable when you’re scared,” Mahito murmurs, through a mouthful of kisses. “I can feel your heart beating, taste it in the air . . . ooh, cutie, it makes me just want to ruin you.”

Your body can no longer tell fear from arousal, though. It’s been so long, and being with Mahito is the same as having a guillotine above your head whilst there’s someone knelt between your thighs using their mouth upon you - the fear simply adds to your desire, now. You whine as he snaps the other strap and giggles as the fabric falls from your body.

It’s barely been on you for five minutes, but it’s no surprise that it will end up sodden and stained and ruined in Mahito’s sewer. It’s just like you, in that way; something bright and mortal and ordinary made into something else by Mahito’s hand.

At least it has been made into something else without the aid of his cursed technique, you suppose - and then Mahito’s hand slips between your legs and his rough calloused fingers find the seam of your sex to slip between and your mind goes blank of anything but how those digits feel, thumb and forefinger roughly finding your clit and pinching it in a way that makes you whine. 

You barely notice that he’s shoving you, bullying you towards a wall until your bare back meets the unpleasantly damp concrete and brick of the sewer - all you can concentrate on is the rhythm of him and his fingers, the feel of him smiling against your bare skin. You whimper again when he pinches once more, harder this time, and he pants against your neck;

“Make that noise for me again, okay? It’s so cute--!”

One of his other fingers finds your entrance. He circles it, still giggling against your bare skin as you pant and whimper and whine pitifully into the humid air.

“Those noises!” Mahito laughs, nosing against the spot just below your ear. His teeth tug at your earlobe. “Do you even know how pathetic you sound, cutie? You’re lucky I think it’s adorable!” His finger slides into you, and you squirm as you feel the slender digit swell within you so that it pushes against your walls. Mahito is always doing this; manipulating his body when you least expect it. His cock inside of you almost so big you feel split apart, his tongue longer and longer so he can fuck you on it--

Another feeble noise escapes out of you as you feel the swelling continue, as Mahito tilts his finger just so in order to reach all of the most delicate parts of you. You wonder if he’ll stop before you fall apart. He’s still pinching your clit, still touching you, still breathing on you and panting and letting you ruin yourself for him. He twists your clit gently, just a bit too roughly to be pleasurable--

But your body has grown to known the cadence and the rhythm of Mahito’s attentions, and despite the flash of pain that emanates from between your thighs it twists inside of you into a confused kind of pleasure and you come for him, pathetically whining again, a gush of your own slick releasing despite the swollen finger-almost-cock inside of you as your body prickles all over with the confused and painful shocks of your orgasm. 

“See?” He coos. “Pathetic little thing! You even like being pushed around! You like it when I hurt you, cutie! You like knowing that the thing making you come is inhuman--”

“No,” you reply, weakly,  but Mahito doesn’t seem to care about your response to him - and neither does your body. As he maneuvers himself around and slots himself between your legs, your thighs part for him and his laugh is like the crowing of a bird as he reaches into his trousers and fishes out his cock, already straining and flushed at the tip and leaking precome. 

His finger, an ordinary size again, slips from inside of you. You think dimly about running away - but then you look at Mahito again, so handsome, so lovely, his eyes wide and bright and excited . . . You think about how long you’ve lasted so far. You think about how he looks when he’s come, his body curled about you and his mouth curled into a smile with his eyes closed like a satisfied cat. You think about the expensive present carefully chosen for you.

“Mahito,” you whisper, into the air, your voice soft and creaky and sore from the whimpering. “I love you.”

Mahito slaps the head of his cock - he’s gone for one of his favourite shapes and sizes today, slightly too thick for you to be comfortable so your whimpers of pleasure are rasped with pain, an upward curve that hits your g-spot and just far enough beyond that it hurts - against your wet sex. 

“Oh,” he says, a smile bright on his face as he slides the head inside of you and your fingers find his broad shoulders to cling onto. “I know you do, cutie. And I think that’s just about enough to keep you alive. Don’t you?”

[masha-nikita]

The Desert Eden

Neither this post nor Rommel is sponsored by Estee Lauder, I swear. This digital drawing is my attempt to capture the scent within this tiny bottle.

Some time ago, my friend mustered some money to get me this incredible perfume sample-- it must be known that this Esteee Lauder perfume series is mad expensive, and we are both very broke. Immediately, its name intrigues me-- DESERT EDEN.

At least based on its Chinese namesake 檀沙玫瑰, DESERT EDEN's notes are built upon very heavy rose-- which might lead many perfume lovers to believe it as mainly for women, and be shocked when it comes out too strong, unwearable even.

On Fragrantica, this perfume is marked as for MEN and for women. It is not one of those nondescript unisex type deal, with notes like fresh citrus, sweet amber, harmless vanilla or neutral musk— something any gender could wear and no one is offended. If the perfumer manufactured this bottle the inoffensive way, it could only end up purely feminine. It's a bouquet of roses after all.

Somehow, Estee Lauder made rose incredibly masculine. There's leather and iron, anger and strength in it. It's a bottle of roses in harsh climate adorn in thorns, ready to hurt, maybe be hurt, unique and brutal-- uniquely brutal. If your body odor/temperature cannot handle aldehydic types like Chanel no.5, I highly do not recommend. Not for the faint of heart. Except if you are born a man, maybe try out.

IDK, the DESERT EDEN just reminds me of Rommel, regardless of its name. I wear it with caution or else my colleagues are going to water-hose me down. I know shipping Montrommel (Montgomery x Rommel) too hard is part of my obsession with it, but what the heck.

This desert is their garden of Eden, where enemies could just be enemies, no intrigues, conspiracy, ideologies and politics, where surrender rather than needless massacres is the ultimate prize.

[everybodyloveshippos]

long post that is just train of thought about fashion and drow and stuff lol

thinking about drow stuff.....(lolthite drow) like....menzo/udadrow society is so insanely intricate about etiquette and layers of unspoken social ques that are deadly to miss. its RIFE w that aristocratic and social intrigue and political scheming mixed in with cult rituals, body horror- and my point is i wanna see the most wild unwearable fashion ever.

i want their hairstyles to reflect (the visual dictionary did good with this imo, ESPCIALLY the baenres) the hours of attendants slaving over (some quite literally) the intricate braids into spiderweb patterns. the high concept formal wear. live spiders as accessories. everything is so over the top becuase everything is a facade or a power play, or a message to another family. the comics were obviously not great in many areas but someone else was pointing out that just like.....loose hair for nobles?? what is this?? i wanna see the styles indictive of station and house. i wanna see more than just like, sexy witch costume dress with slits and a weird armour thing. i dont even mind sexualized stuff thats part of it too but put the effort in!!!! make it intricate and weird and cool and idk where im going w this i just love weird high fashion and stuff and I WANT CAMP

richard whitters.....slay

alice auaa fall 2013 (look up vids of this runway its so cool some of the way the pieces actually look while moving) https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cqi2VtYvYAh/

anyways this was just a train of thought idk how to end it but. fashion cool