#need that pink mesh skirt

[dyslexicbitch]

miu miu ss 2000

[sanchoyo]

hate hate hate how beige and neutral color based menswear is. its soo hard to find like. fun patterns and pastel bright colorful things!!! and when I HAVE found them theyre runway pieces that are like. 300$ for a single pair of pants. :< masc ppl deserve fun things thatre more accessible. everytime I go to thrift stores its the same problem, like cheap stuff sure and better than fast fashion ofc, but its BORING!!! >:(

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 7

[prompt: praise kink]

male reader x shen xiaoting

7k words

Well - from a glance, Xiaoting is flawless.

Every photographer makes the same movement as soon as she steps foot onto the stage - almost as if she's commanding them - but it's not a fair competition and she knows it.

The tiny black dress wrapped around her waist, hugging every meticulous angle in its stretch, isn't exactly the most practical of options, but then again nor was the sleeveless cut or the low-backend, nor the slit in the skirt that shows however much leg you're curious to see, nor the five-inch Louboutins with little ribbons at the ankles, crystals in their mesh like a real-life glass slipper - so, truly, anything about this outfit.

But in this industry, red carpets are about one thing: image.

(Something Xiaoting wields in excess.)

She pauses the subtle sashay of her hips mid-way across the stage, and pivots around, straightening out the waves in her hair, done-up and perfect-in-pink, over her shoulders. She lets the flash of every camera illuminate the swell of her lips in full - reflect and shimmer in the sequence of diamonds dangling under her ears. But it's all in that little smirk, the tilt of her chin. Everything working together to sell the moment; how breathtakingly beautiful she is, how proud, confident and seemingly indifferent to all the commotion happening around her - to every person calling her name and pleading for her to look in this specific direction.

You can watch how deliberate she holds her posture. See it. Understand it. Watch how she tips her head. The genuine kind of smile that could drive anyone to absolute ruin.

Maybe the more obvious: how the cameras love her - love the flash, the shine and glitter and sparkle of the fabric, love the turn of a heel onto where her legs are poised, her profile a perfect angle for every shot and more and more and more.

There's not even the slightest suggestion of just how overwhelmed she is.

-

"You're not supposed to be back here," is the very first thing you hear, as soon as Xiaoting catches your reflection in the vanity mirror.

You hold up a press pass with a headshot that loosely looks like you. Like in a really dark, kind of out-of-focus photo sort of way. Xiaoting simply lets out a slightly disapproving sigh.

"Someone's probably looking for that, you know."

"What's the worst thing that could happen? Someone doesn't get to ask you what your favorite color is, or what you had for breakfast? God forbid we need to know your TMI."

She slips the crystal bracelet off the end of her narrow wrist and places it gently next to the red carpet gear strewn across the surface in front of her. A necklace. The earrings, similar in their shimmer. A matching headband, an evening clutch in white. It's all sitting, not necessarily disorganized, but it's in the mess that Xiaoting is all the while searching for things; lip gloss and makeup, small hair clips.

"You could get us both in trouble, for starters."

When she looks up at you, briefly, there's an attempt at a scolding expression - a short-lived one, how it quickly gives way to a grin, a laugh, all the things she can't help when it's you in particular.

"I'll make sure it finds its way back where I found it," and with a hand over her shoulder, "or at least somewhere close enough. If anyone asks."

Xiaoting bounces an impossibly sweet smile off the mirror at you when her eyes find yours again. And while she starts unclipping pins from her hair, lifting and tousling and adjusting the curls into a more familiar shape, you're almost entranced in the way her shoulders loosen and her eyelashes flutter. In this light, she's even more devastating: an illusion of something both fragile, and immensely resilient.

"At the very least," she says, "I won't hold my breath for anyone else to find their way into my dressing room anytime soon."

She gets a hold of a simple clip, pulls a stray strand of pink off her cheek, and tucks it behind her ear. The gesture is fluid, elegant even, and so singular.

She really is, gorgeous.

The fact that you have to occasionally remind her of that is a different maddening issue entirely. You've always wondered - and always will continue to wonder, really - why it is the prettiest girls seem to have the hardest time understanding they're beautiful. It makes you crazy, makes your head hurt.

There's an entire world worth of things for her to fixate her attention on: her job, her fans and career; a hundred more names and faces to learn - people who would probably agree to hang the stars in the sky for her, given the chance, the mere opportunity. But instead she can only bring herself to stare into a mirror and compare notes and point out all these things she doesn't feel ready for.

This interview, or her performance, or the next.

"They're talking about me. Those 'insiders'," she explains, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the voices in the hallway. "Said, my styling this past year has been too 'soft.' Too 'girly.' No one's buying it," and with a pout: "now, or then, apparently"

"Always works for me," you tell her, in a way that implies it's absolutely none of their business at the end of the day; what colors Xiaoting shows up in, how she wears her makeup and dresses, her shoes or perfume.

She floats her fingers up to the dip of her collarbone, weaving them into your hand. The contented look on her face, now a near permanent fixture in the space she keeps between the two of you, suggests that of all her accessories - gifts and borrowed things she wears in a perpetual game of dress-up - you're the one she would prefer most.

"Well," she says, fixing you a mischievous twist of her brow, "you'd say that if I was up there wearing nothing at all."

"Oh, not a doubt in my mind."

(As usual, the both of you laugh far too much.

As usual, neither of you manage to care.

Your lives have always been about soft edges. A little nonsense here and there, so long as it means having more of her.)

She brings your knuckles to her lips, careful and reserved, and holds the tips of her fingers gently to your neck. "How much more do you have tonight?"

"The rest of the hour is probably asking too much." You help Xiaoting onto her feet, arms wrapping her middle, and with a kiss dropped into her hair, you tell her, "should probably report in, let someone know I haven't gotten myself expelled."

"Thought you said you were a terrible liar."

"Oh, I am," you say. "That's just how much trouble I've already been making for myself tonight."

Xiaoting watches you kiss her shoulder, her neck, all in amusement, eyes never breaking contact as your lips brush and linger against the delicate shape of her wrist. A shiver in her exhale - almost a laugh, an 'I'm listening,' in a form of its own - and you find her body shifting into a natural and familiar hold; the outline of her mouth so unbelievably tempting when it parts so naturally - that when it comes down to a choice: Xiaoting against you, you and her in her private room, the hustle and bustle, and rush-hustle of the building and people and machines outside your door -

It really doesn't take too much convincing.

"Fifteen minutes. They'll start wondering," you tell her, already dipping forward to capture her in your arms. She falls right back, perfectly content as though she doesn't belong anywhere else. "We'd have to be really quick."

"You're bad," Xiaoting hums, winding further into your arms, smiling between the warm, warm kisses you're trailing along the collar of her dress, where the zipper is resting and ready to be drawn down.

The moment is candid: you pressing your lips into the bare skin of her shoulder, following it up with something that's part laugh, and part the kind of sigh people make after too long without sleep. You're already struggling against the curve of her waist - the swell of her hips, all her curves - while your nose nuzzles in deeper, a delicate exploration into the bend of her neck, against her shoulder, the hint of perfume. 

"Only one of us can be perfect, sweetheart." The damn truth, even if she hears it all the time and from everyone else. "You're gonna have to settle.”

You watch her expression melt into that self-composed, self-confident mien when you say it - in a quiet, contented kind of way; an ethereal sort of assurance. As though she was never meant to be touched by anyone, much less held by you, but somehow decided to allow it nonetheless. That look in her eye, it makes your heart twist. Every damn time.

"What about an accident," she muses, "something keeping you longer. Twenty maybe?"

"Oh," you chuckle. "Those happen in the hallway and parking lot. Where everyone can see. Never behind the scenes, for a totally unlikely and unrelated reason."

"Technicalities."

She turns to face you, fully, eyes lit and shimmery under the room's lighting; pink hair, all shades of glitter and silk and the smoothest, warmest skin. Your touch grazes up her sides, palms smoothing over the fine print, the sequins in the fabric, her hands all the while busy weaving, needily, around your waist, underneath the line of your shirt, finding and tracing along the ridges in your hips and spine.

Xiaoting wants you - plain and simple as that. The look on her face says as much.

And if you don't touch her now, kiss and feel her against you - all of it at once - she'll make sure you regret ever prioritizing anything over her. Over the two of you, and how perfectly and neatly you fit together, even if that means you're both absent for press calls, or a segment, or an interview she can't be late to. She'll blame you and it'll be okay.

"Fourteen minutes now," you inform her. "If it’s something you're counting."

"Give or take a few," Xiaoting smiles. Her words slip against your cheek, hot and honey-coated. It's tempting. Her teeth find your jawline and the gentle nip against your skin is hard to ignore. "Did you lock the door?"

"Believe it or not, that was the first thing I did."

And with her hips in your palms, you steal a kiss, because you can - because she's kissing you right back - her forearms wrapping over your shoulders, holding you tight around your neck, and, ahh - Xiaoting's mouth - how eagerly, so desperately, she parts your lips and slips her tongue over your teeth, humming, mumbling happily into a second and third and fourth kiss. Then, once the heat of the moment sweeps in, melting into something slower, sweeter, lingering, a little deeper, it's another.

And another after that.

She leans into you, the rise and fall, slow-down-then-start-again, of her chest and of her breathing and of the tiny, stifled noises she’s kissing into your lips. Only you're pinching the fabric around her waist, slowly lifting the hem of her skirt further up her thighs and reminding her that there's a promise for slow later, that she can take all the time in the world to map and remember the planes and edges of your body; trace the curves of every little sensitive spot and learn again how she fits into your hands, in the time and space that's left to the two of you alone.

"Thirteen-"

"Minutes," she echoes breathily against your ear and over the sound of her fingers in your belt. "I know. Got it."

Xiaoting's hasty. She has to be; reaching and fumbling to pop open your pants while the heat of her mouth finds you first, her tongue sliding smooth across your throat, chin, the warmth and the taste, then along the corner of your mouth - your tongue chasing hers and turning it into a mess that's as intimate and satisfying as it is clumsy; breath catching in both your mouths, hands intertwining, needing the contact with just as much fervent abandon.

Off, off, off, she's murmuring into you, thumbs perched dangerously on your waist, dipping into the fabric, tracing the rim, taking a tease down a little farther with each lazy caress, and, in the very back of your mind, there's a small voice in agreement that insists you are most definitely in no hurry at all.

It grows louder when the small shape of Xiaoting's palm is all the way down the rise of your pants, all over where you're beginning to grow hard - straining and twitching and almost painfully, impatiently interested. You hold her closer and clutch harder because the need is like a burn - one that's seared itself comfortably, wonderfully between your hips, where you feel each brush and curve and fond stroke of her touch.

Her eyes lift to meet yours, gleaming and knowing and laughing, no doubt aware that you're both going to be wrecked no matter which of these games she wins.

"Nothing we can't solve here and now." She tells you.

"True."

"I'll get my mouth on you later, make it all better."

"Later?" Your voice, completely a mess and breaking just enough, forces its way between a kiss that feels anything but. You're pleading for her, into her lips. "Oh, is that a promise, sweetheart?"

"A promise," Xiaoting gasps. "Or a threat. Depends how fast you're ready for me."

"Hush." And you hold her mouth open with yours, devour and drink the sounds falling from her tongue, each one that starts off shallow then trails deeper and deeper and deeper, until her hands have settled over you, and her fingers are finally pushing below the hem, and working the length of your cock, up and down and along it all.

"Hey,” she says, far too inviting, “aren't you supposed to be, like, tearing off this dress by now?"

Xiaoting smirks up at you. With a slight motion of her hand, the other having come to wrap fully around your shaft, the two fingers twisting along your tip, spreading the beading moisture into a long stroke.

"Very gentlemanly of you, wanting to keep it all nice and put together-" and with a wiggle of her brows, "-unsuspicious."

You clench your teeth through a gasp - a jolt at the sudden brush of her fingertips over the base, further down. Xiaoting has that mischief to her - she always has - a certain inclination to press and test the boundaries until they're unrecognizable, to poke and prod where she shouldn't, only the slightest bit concerned.

"Trust me, I would. Only this is a dress I can't afford to ruin, sweetheart." You're leaning her against the vanity, freeing one of her hands to press around behind her, against the cold, cluttered countertop, feeling how the sharp breath in her lungs goes soft and hot immediately, wanting.

"In that case," she tells you, a knowing tilt in her mouth, "you'll just have to ruin me in it."

That's a little closer to your budget given how fast your arm slips under her hip, pulling her up onto the vanity and angling her into you. Her skirt ruffles and follows, the material all too eager to keep you and the lithe frame of her body nice and snug together. There's that sharp gasp in her chest again, at the hand you're running up her thighs; an approval to your arrangement in the sound of her laughter, to your kiss, and all the fever-filled strokes jerking your cock that she's busying herself with again.

You can feel an urge you both share and want to make real and tangible, to peel down and past and over those tiny black panties; feel the heat rising, the wetness there, and all the eager, eager noises of her pleasure.

"Ten minutes." Your teeth are grazing into her lip, her mouth, while she whimpers so pretty into your throat. "Does that put any ideas in your head?"

"Nearly everything." Xiaoting lets your pants fall and uses the back of her heel to skid them down around your feet. "But maybe, especially your cock right here, if you’re going to slide it so slowly over me-" she sucks on her next breath, holding her hand where her panties are; smoothing against you with her hips rocking forward.

You feel her head drop, slightly, when she whispers into a heated kiss, "right between, the most tender way, where I'm aching the most."

"I bet you'd look beautiful with it," you say, all kinds of things, leaning and mumbling into her neck, all that exposed skin. "My cum on you. Sitting so good right here, in such a tight little-"

She stops your teasing with her kiss, pushing forward to the point where her ass is bumping right against your hips, your hand, your cock; coaxing you in closer.

And then, a particularly stern warning, probably warranted, sneaks out through the bite of her lip; just barely restrained: "I swear to god if you make a mess anywhere - don’t, if you know what's best for you.”

"That's a pretty roundabout way of asking me to cum inside you, Xiaoting. Wording matters."

"Telling." Her smile is all kinds of sly; all for you to witness and tuck safely in your pocket later. "Not asking."

"We’ll see what we can do with nine minutes," you tell her, and your cock is snug against the lace of her underwear - right where she's so fucking wet - you can already hear it in the little, jerking huffs in her voice and on her breath and how your hands are touching her through the fabric. How between hot, clumsy kisses, she's lifting and drawing her body as close as possible and curling into you.

(God.)

"Easy," she mouths, all hot and hazy as she drags the lacy band of elastic aside. It's your turn to inhale and jerk and gasp, but there's hardly anything there to catch you, just her whisper that says, "there you go, honey, fill me up real slow. Right to the very, very top," her voice arching high when you've begun to nudge your cock into her, opening her up and up and up with a slow, steady thrust. "Just - like - that."

And in the seconds, maybe minutes (you’re trying not to lose track), that follow, you are holding your breath against the heat blossoming through her cheek. Against Xiaoting, flushed and whimpering, hands buried in her dress and her hips starting to roll back on your cock. It's a tiny adjustment; nowhere to go but deeper, further - grinding together however you can manage.

It's one thing to love each other quietly, discretely and with all that discretion.

It's another entirely, in times like these, to give in to a raw-edge impulse that hits suddenly and leaves just as fast. Your hips snap in and in and in, Xiaoting's chest rising and rising, her head turned and pressed into the shoulder of your shirt, her hand already caught in a fistful of sleeve. And you - the friction is so soft and so good, a slick, easy glide of your cock - full - all the way to the very last inch.

Just her seedy, whimpering whine fills the back of your neck and your ear, and her arms and her legs locked in around you, like a coil ready to burst, that ache coming to a head.

The ends of her hair are soft and sweet where you gather a fistful of pink around your wrist, hold - pull, like a taut string. Xiaoting gasps a fluttering note as her chin tips up, the smooth canvas of her throat begging to be kissed and roughed up in just the right places. Reddening like the insides of her thighs, the heat there, where they're pinched around your waist - delicate little marks of where you're fucking her open and bare and deep and so well.

You could drink up each and every noise - all the keening and humming, the ruffled, strung-out sounds; how you're both breathing into a shared mess of gasping and panting, of Xiaoting whimpering into your throat, clinging on like she'll die otherwise. "Faster," she pleads all desperate and urgent. "More. Fuck this pussy like it deserves, don't you want it? So wet, can't you feeling how I'm aching?"

You can. Hot and wet and absolute.

You can feel the shudder-wreck, the absolute throe - there's not an ounce left between you; nothing but her slick, warm cunt clutching and hugging your cock, letting it stretch her apart and fill her again and again, the little ridge between your hips slipping over her clit on a forward, upward stroke and grinding there, with a shaky hand cradling her lower back for support while you drive back into the thrust.

"Ting, fucking christ - Ting, your tight little pussy is incredible." You groan into her skin. "Taking me, fucking, taking every, last, inch-"

"I can feel you fucking throbbing," Xiaoting tells you, all teasing and exasperated as she lets your name turn into a series of vibrating hums against your lips. "You're going to make me fucking lose it, the way you're hitting me inside."

See, you fit together, inside-and-outside so perfect; that when you begin to really fuck Xiaoting, when she's making it clear, over, and over, yes, harder, give it to me, and the table she's sitting on is giving away each-and-every one of her whimpers, you lose yourself in the rhythm and pace and the fact that Xiaoting's creaming cunt is working itself hot and messy and pulsating around you; so fucking tight, tight, - slick all around - almost drawing you in, then resisting and tensing every-time your cock finds just the deepest angle.

It's something to push, something that makes you greedy and drive her ass into the cabinet even more; make sure you're slipping along her walls just enough, and doing so with every few inches or less that you're managing to drive, working over a pressure so sensitive it might be making her see stars, every time a thumb digs a little deeper into her hip bone.

"All the way, baby," she's saying, whispering, making you want to fuck the words out of her in broken pieces. "So. Close. Just a little-"

She's gone, her back arched - bending into an incredible sight. And there's the most beautiful look on her face, even under the frantic-urgent rush. Your hands are all over her: pressing into the divots above her hips; petting the expanse between her tits, then down again, feeling out her ribcage, her belly, in between her thighs and parting them wider - like if she were any more spread open, she'd be coming right off the table.

Then, the thumb tangled into the sleeve of her dress, the rough pad of the other rubbing circles over her swollen clit - here you'll figure she'll cum; she's never shy about it - but it's more a question of how many times. How it always builds up and comes apart.

You're obsessed, really, with the details: her eyelids fluttering, the sounds of her skin sliding down onto the cabinets, her lips that can never get themselves closed.

"Oh, Ting," you're panting, licking all over her parted mouth, "do you need-"

Her nails begin to cut half-crescents into the small of your back, where she's been gripping at you; a moan falls straight out from her tongue, straight into your own, the closest she'll ever come to asking for anything: but it's easy.

"You're so fucking pretty, baby, I'll give you whatever you need-"

You slide your fingers higher up her folds, pushing onto her hot cunt right over the spot where your cock is disappearing inside her.

"I know that's what you need to be fucked silly, right? Need some extra friction so I can have the entire inside of this fucking cunt dripping-"

Xiaoting makes a noise that tells you, good guess. And you're playing her closer and closer to her orgasm, watching her teeth sink into her own lip, knowing that she's the one on a timer - which makes it all the easier, because you know exactly what to say next, because you've played this game enough - when you've already been fucking her and fingering her through one or two and her noises are telling you her body needs just one more, and then, the words usually roll right out, not the slightest bit contrived:

"That's it, sweetheart, you look so fucking good. So, so pretty cumming on my cock, baby. You're fucking gorgeous, you know that? I can't get enough of you."

Her mouth falls open, eyes screwing tight with it - the praise, the way you can talk her right into it every fucking time - the way it all but kills her: even when she's getting pumped full of pre-cum and sleeved around your cock like a glove, you know that sometimes the words are the only thing she's chasing, and her jaw starts to trembling just like the rest of her. This full body tension, head to toe of perfection you're whispering in her ear. She's pressing her heels harder than before against the back of your legs, digging, her whole chest shaking for a gasp of air she doesn't seem to ever be able to fully catch.

"But god, I wish you were looking at me," you're begging, sincere, with a deep sort of pining, when you get the the sharp twist of her neck, like it takes everything in her, then, like it's a miracle - those lidded, still-water eyes focused right on you. "I want to make you fall apart, just looking at me, sweetheart."

(Your poor heart. An obsession. So in love with her.)

The kiss you steal from her lips is deeper, your tongues playing a familiar song, the push, pull - how easy and perfect she fits.

When she cums, it always starts quiet, not like what she's just started doing: the kind of cries and moans that begin to make it past her teeth, desperate and panting, her fingers crushing down in place where they're pressed to your skin. Those whimpers that start quiet, get loud, fast, and then Xiaoting's arching right up from the table and clenching her entire body. With you inside her, she's so wrapped up in how good it is, the pleasure spiking past her pussy and into her veins.

"Shh," you soothe her, lovingly brushing her hair to the side when her breath shudders hard; the mess you made, sliding a palm against her cheek when the first few tears gather, the way they always do when Xiaoting's overwhelmed and torn down in such a good, beautiful way. 

You could kiss her, when you feel the curve of her trembling lips. You do, again-again; slip and wet and parted and sliding when Xiaoting lets you hold the base of her chin between your forefinger and thumb, and bring your mouths together like that.

You could hold the moment longer. Keep kissing her and not moving - except Xiaoting has that meek, "Fuck me," mumbled into your open mouth, her half-wits returning and giving her the very start of a wicked grin - all sloppy with orgasm. "However you want, whatever will make you cum fast-"

"Turn around for me. I'm going to show you how pretty you are, looking just like that-"

"Y-Yeah- '' Xiaoting is trying, her joints trembling as she moves her body. She's so good, listening, rolling onto the surface of the table with her ass up, palms spread out and supporting her into this perfect line. Xiaoting's defining the curve: where her lower back and tight little ass begins and ends, right up into her shoulders and spine. Her hair has fallen across one side, and now you can finally see how much she's blushing in the mirror, the messes that her eye makeup has smudged into, how good she's been, and now how sweet and pliable and worked open her muscles are.

The view alone could have you blowing your load before you can even do it properly inside her.

But, god - the fact that her dress was hanging down on one shoulder, then on none, exposing her naked skin entirely; the fact that you can't resist grabbing a hand around a waist-full of her body and dragging her back closer, slotting your thighs under hers and her ass up against you, cock sliding into her still-clenching cunt without the help of your hands, just finding it where it belonged. You give it to her like she's meant to take. Fast. Hard. Deep. Making sure each-time your cock is in its base-deep place and sliding right back out, pulling slick, creamy strands out from her fucked-out pussy. Bathing you in her want, her need, pooling along the base of your cock; seeping everywhere.

There's just so much of it. The sounds echoing off the empty walls, so distinct, unmistakable, so full and thick. The way your whole body seems to tighten and tense along with hers - everything tight, you can see it, your eyes sweeping from Xiaoting's thighs to the reflection of how she just takes you. Shaking each time, the lines of her body wobble forward when your hips land a heavy thrust and slide along every bit velvety-wet inside her: no room for your cum when she's this overflowing, you figure, wondering how full of it she could even get.

"Fuck," the word just slides off you. "Fucking god, you're the best fuck," you praise her. Like heaven.

Because Your hand is in her hair again, wrapped up in and smoothing over the tangles; feeling her like silk. But now you're grabbing too - holding her steady, a fistful between the roots; you want her back arched, canted just that one angle higher that you know would push her past all limits.

“Oh my god,” she gasps out, once your get her knee planted up on the counter - once she's spread herself even further for the weight of your body. "That's it - holy shit, please-more-"

There are little whispers too - stuff that makes your cock twitch a few times, pulsing in warning - not even fully aware that she's cumming down all over your waist, praises like the hottest of filth, please and yes and I need it and fuck and fucking christ, keep going and don't stop don't stop please baby I'll do anything anything-

Xiaoting's voice reaches the same high pitch she does when her clit is getting hit, not sure what part of her body you're touching or just the overwhelming sensation, but god she doesn't know which way to turn her neck and face. She just ends up taking it all in, breathing in the gravity of the moment - her reflection, yours, the feeling - a tremor building up, her eyes flickering back-forth when she realizes they've started to close, forcing herself to look at the both of you.

You fuck your cock through each inch of her quivering cunt, each one hotter, tighter, wetter than the last - until you're spilling cum - cumming deep and fast inside her -

Reaching so far she can feel the thick pool of it getting fucked further into her with every shallow snap of your hips; her ass flushing back up against your stomach. Filling her to the brim - enough to feel it drip and seep and slide.

And she doesn't stop, the way she has her hips rolling down your length and staying there, your cock rooted into her deepest spot. If there's one more thing she gets off on it's being filled, milking the remnants, emptying you, and - because she's almost fucking teasing you, you feel it when she's clenching the remaining dredges right out of your body; out and leaking hot along your over-sensitised skin. The sharp sting of it has your hands tight on her waist, her ass spilling through the gaps of your fingers - deciding what you'll do.

"Three minutes," she says, panting, "is enough-"

You squeeze through the sculpted round of her ass. Spank it. Knead it.

"You want me to fuck another one into you - can you take that? You'd be such a good girl if you can take a fucking like that."

"I mean it," Xiaoting rasps, hips still lifted and angled toward you, as she meets you in the mirror; her eyes looking past your reflection, still coming down, wrecked and fucked raw, but making the message clear. "I'll make it easy for you."

And with that's she got her hand on your still-hard cock; not nearly enough softness in her voice for the rough grip and the sloppy pumping - fucking filth out of her still, if there was ever any hope of getting it out the way she's pulling and using and moving the slick all over you, spilling it onto the floor. "Think I can make you cum again, right here and now."

The thing about Xiaoting is:

She makes bad decisions, but always with the best intentions. That's why you always know what she'll say.

Because it's almost always the same answer: a pair of crossed wrists and a coy-eagerness that's enough of an invitation for you to make use of what she's given.

And this is the exact way you find yourself dragging the fabric of her dress down her shoulder, her middle, her breasts falling back down from their bounce when you unwind it, then twisting the end tightly into itself before shoving it into the soft valley of her mouth.

I love your tits, you know that?" you tell her, mouth open and hot against her shoulder blade. “So fucking pretty all over, Ting, your entire body's amazing and it does things to me-if I could, I would keep my cum inside this tiny little pussy, over and over, keep filling it. Make your tummy swell for me, sweet baby, and never let a single drop-"

"Do it-" she moans out, words garbled by the fabric. Her eyes are wide and full of the darkest innocence, like anything could happen; anything you wished. "Do it, your fucking cock, want to feel you-"

You spank her again, and she keens.

The mirror is showing you how her chest reddens under the rush of your hands kneading at her, almost violent, before sliding down the back-insides of her thigh, pushing, "But, what you look like with my cock buried inside you, stretched out and still so fucking tiny around me."

It's not new. It's what makes Xiaoting give you the dirtiest, sexiest little hum around the cloth wedged inside her mouth.

Then her cunt clenches down on your cock, and you're groaning, "christ," watching the way her face tugs at the stretch, watching, when her back is pushed out again - the angle. You're lining up, sucking in the full and naked and glistening display of her body before letting your hips fuck into hers again. It feels even better than the first time: tightening like a vise around the thickness of you, your cum pouring back inside her, then with her eyes fixed to yours in the mirror, you get to watch her lips straining; a drooling, whimpering mess.

Then. You're slamming her waist into the table. Rough, reckless. Desperate to reach another edge, rough enough that she can barely look up from her bowed elbows, elegant features twisted into something a little more awful, a little more pretty - just there, and - and - 

A third time. Four. More.

Xiaoting's whimpering, just so spent she has nothing else left, your cock filling her up so full and hot with your spill; she's sloppy and flushed and you're pressing her up into the cool surface of the mirror, with her legs giving in when she collapses over her heels and nearly tumbles over; her own body weighing nothing.

If she asked, "carry me," in any way, you'd be on her like clockwork; you'd get her turned around into a loose-limbed pile, a leg thrown over each of her waist; she'd already have her cheek nestled against your jaw, halfway asleep, a warm bundle pressed up and waiting to get tucked into bed and swept into all of the things that would make her purr and melt; blankets and warm-clothes and showers and tending.

You'd always make a show out of sweeping her off her feet. Because the thing is, Xiaoting deserves it.

And you let her know that:

"You're always the sweetest, aren't you? Taking a fucking like that," you tell her, burying the dying gasps of a laugh right into the sweat-sticky back of her neck. You can feel her throat vibrating out a small sound, her brain almost definitely not able to formulate words, maybe only just registering the tones of your voice. "You are just so breathtakingly gorgeous, babe, the prettiest baby. The fucking world must be upside down, because no one tells you nearly often enough."

And -

Xiaoting - really, above all else, is fucking gorgeous. Because her tired laugh echoes a small part of itself straight down your spine, filling all the dips between each of your vertebrae. Genuine smile and all.

It has your skin crawling back to life, warming up.

There's a murmured 'thank you' said somewhere into the back of her hand, between her pinky finger and her ring, a small, stifled breath that pulls on her tired voice; it's a sleepy sound, like honey, and maybe that's why you choose to tell her one more time.

You glance at the clock on the wall. It's been a good fifteen-plus-extra minutes. You can live with that.

"Told you we'd be late," you say, smoothing out the fabric of her dress.

Which means this is the second time she says: "Nothing there we can’t solve with a little..."

"Carelessness?"

"Misdirection. Pretty convenient for some of us," Xiaoting murmurs with the lingering sweetness of your kiss on her lips. "Who have that charming talent with words."

She looks up, wincing and dabbing at the dried tracks on her cheeks where her eyelashes have swept away all the makeup and tears, like a soft brush sweeping away the layer of snow, she lets her head rest there in your palm and the other soothes, warm, on the back of her neck - her shoulders a little slack when you feel her whole body relax.

"Love you," Xiaoting says, after a heavy breath; a shaky exhale, just under her tongue; "even when we're a little crazy."

Your cheeks warm as they squish themselves around her grin.

"Love you. Now hold still," you say - taking it slow, kissing the damp pink curls right behind her ear. Then, for the most part, it's back to business. Back to normal.

Makeup wipes and wet washcloths. Clearing and setting the furniture upright. Hastily undoing the locks, so that to anyone who's passing by and smelling the raw, irrefutable evidence of sex and sin, they can turn away and think twice - no one's fault except the wicked thoughts swirling and forming in the back of their thoughts.

(No matter how many times you do, it's no different with Xiaoting; her smile turns the wheels in your head - still spinning. You can't help it when she laughs with her eyes still half-mast - fucked-out; a headiness, her tone like velvet.)

And the 'yes, we do,' on her breath when she hums again, is the beginning of an I-told-you-so, when you tell her, "c’mon, we've got places to be."

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Autumn Embers Verse

Omegaverse AU where people who are compatible have complementary scents.

Your friends assure you that the bar they’re dragging you to is nicer than it looks online. You highly doubt that, but you’re willing to go along until the three of them get bored and decide to get a car to the club district. And they will get bored, because you recognize the name and address that they’re trying to go to. You’ve never been, but some of your new coworkers on the base have invited you out for drinks and pool.

When Christie flounces out in a bright pink mini-dress, you can’t help but grin. “You look great. Super cute. But I don’t think that’s the vibe of the bar.”

Admittedly, you’re dressed a bit less conservatively than the bar might call for. But you feel cute in your black skater skirt and white top. Styled with floral lace stockings, boots, and silver jewelry, it’s more dressing up than you’ve been able to do in the last 6 months.

“I’m not dressing for the military bar,” Christie says, checking her makeup in the hall mirror before dropping on the couch next to you. She tosses her brown hair over one shoulder and pulls out her phone to order a car. “I’m dressing for when Mel and Jack decide they’re done shopping for alphas and want to go to the club.”

“Military packs are already cohesive,” Jack sniffs, emerging from the hall in cute jeans, a mesh top, and a sensible jacket. Behind him, Mel is dressed very similarly, though they’ve opted for cargo pants. “It’s not impossible that we might find a couple of someones who might be interesting.”

“If nothing else, they’ll buy you drinks,” you concede. “Pretty sure they have pool tables. If there’s one open, maybe we play a couple of rounds. Give Jack a chance to bend over and show off.”

The car, when it arrives, is a little small, but the four of you pile in gamely. You sit in the front, since your hips need the room. The driver gives a smile and a nod through his cloth mask and starts driving as soon as your seatbelt is secure. You reflexively drop the window a bit, though it’s already open. It makes sense - driving groups around all night definitely lends itself to a lot of conflicting scents.

In the back, Chrissy’s floral omega scent plays well with Jack and Mel’s sweet beta and omega mix. The very subtle floral notes of your own scent don’t clash too badly, but the base note of charcoal does sometimes leave people’s noses a bit confused. You catch the moment the driver catches a hint of your scent and darts a look at you, but he doesn’t say anything. You occupy yourself on your phone for the fifteen minute drive, tuning out Chrissie and Jack’s complaints about work.

When you arrive, the bar is just about what you expected. Run-down in a lived-in kind of way but clean. Dim and quiet. The exact opposite of Jack and Chrissie, but that doesn’t stop them from swanning in through the doors and making their way immediately to the bar. You and Mel follow behind. You make eye contact with a couple of people you kind of recognize, give a quirk of a smile as a greeting.

By the time you’ve decided what to drink, Chrissie and Jack have already charmed a trio of alphas into conversation and a promised game of pool. Mel leans into Jack’s back and introduces themself in their quiet way. You give your name with a wave before ordering a whiskey sour.

“Put their drinks on our tab,” one of the alphas says. He holds his hand out to you to shake. “Daniels. I’ve seen you on base before, yeah?”

“I’ve been working admin for a couple of months,” you confirm as you shake his hand. He’s polite enough not to try to rub wrists on a first meeting, at least. His scent reminds you of the bakery near your house. “It’s not a bad job.”

Once everyone has their drinks and the group makes their way over to one of the open pool tables, you think you could have a pretty good night. Daniels and his friends, Bennet and Bakshi, are actually pretty fun. They’re obviously flirting with Chrissie and Jack (and Mel, by extension), but they’re not ignoring you. Daniels and Bakshi, at least, include you in the conversation and ask questions about your job, how you all know each other, where you’re from.

When Bakshi manages to pull Mel into a conversation about video games and cyber security, you and Chrissie excuse yourselves to the restroom.

“I should have worn jeans,” she sighs. “This is really fun, but kind of a waste of an outfit.”

You’re about to laugh when you pass by a table and make eye contact with a man you’ve only seen in passing before. You recognize Sergent MacTavish by his mohawk, and give him a little half smile. Then you notice Captain Price and Sergent Garrick. The blond in a skull themed cloth mask can only be Lieutenant Riley. You give all four of them a startled little nod of acknowledgment, and then Chrissie is tugging you into the bathroom.

You’ve never met anyone from Task Force 141 before. Any time you’ve heard of them, at least two have been sent off somewhere across the world. You don’t have the clearance to deal with any of their reports, but you know enough to understand that they’re practically rock stars.

“Five quid, Jack and Mel have all three of their numbers by the end of the night,” Chrissie interrupts your musing as she checks her makeup in the mirror. As usual, she’s perfect, and you hear her take a selfie.

“Ten quid, Bennet asks for yours,” you counter from the stall.

“No bet, he’s already asked.” Chrissie answers. “But he’s a tool.”

“You like tools.”

“That’s true. It’s the muscles.” she agrees. “If he asks me on a proper date, I won’t say no.”

“Not a waste of a dress, then,” you point out before flushing and making your way to wash your hands. “Is he wearing scent blockers? I can’t get a bead on him.”

“He’s a subtle bit of tobacco leaf. Bakshi is nutmeg and Daniels-”

“Daniels smells like fresh bread,” you finish.

“Oh, ho, ho,” Chrissie chuckles, leaning her hip on the counter as you wash your hands. “Took notice did you?”

“We shook hands.” You roll your eyes. “Kind of hard not to notice.” When you step out of the bathroom, you’re startled to see Sergent MacTavish leaning against the wall on his phone. His eyes snap up to yours and he stands up to his full height. He’s bigger than you expected, and you find yourself helpless to hold his stare. When he smiles, you feel yourself flush.

“Evenin’, bonnie lass,” he says, after a moment. “C’n I get a moment of your time?”

Chrissie practically skips the couple of steps away to stand at the entrance of the hall leading to the bathrooms. She doesn’t quite abandon you with a strange alpha, but she does turn her back and pull out her phone.

Before you can comment on her absence, or introduce yourself, or even think about what to say, MacTavish has stepped close. His scent, something warm and earthy and somehow also floral, floods your senses. At the same time, he leans down to hover his nose just short of touching your temple. You can’t help but blush harder at how bold he’s being. The way he takes your scent into his lungs is just this side of vulgar.

“So it has been you we’ve been scenting around base,” he chuckles, taking a deliberate step back and leaning back against the wall again. He crosses big arms across his chest and smiles. “Gaz’s been tying himself in knots trying to catch more than faded hints near the caf’.”

What are you supposed to say to that? “…Sorry? I’m new to the base.”

He grins. “Well, I’m glad you’re around. Sergent MacTavish.” He doesn’t offer his hand, but considering the how rude he was before, it’s not like he needs to.

You stammer an introduction and decide to make your retreat. “It was, um, nice to meet you, Sergent. I have to get back to my friends.” “Be seeing you around, hen,” he says, and doesn’t move as you make your retreat.

As soon as you’re clear of the hall, you make the mistake of looking that the 141’s table. All of their eyes snap to your face as soon as you’re visible. You almost freeze under their attention, but Chrissie rescues you. She takes your arm and practically marches you across the bar to rejoin Jack and Mel, who immediately pull you close to drag you into some debate about music.

You can’t contribute much to the conversation. Thank goodness for Chrissie, who gleefully carries the discussion. You’re too distracted to do much more than give vague agreements for a long time.

At the end of the night, when you and your friends leave the bar, you chance a glance toward the 141’s table. Four pairs of eyes stare back.

[mac-and-thefox]

Dew making himself cum 2 or 3 times with the Ghildo, leaving himself all wet and sloppy.

He glides into the common area where Mountain and Swiss are playing Mario Kart, and sits across from them with his legs sprawled open.

Dew is wearing a mesh top, nipple rings glinting through the scant material, and a mini skirt that barely covers anything, much less his soaking wet cunt. With his legs wide open, Mountain and Swiss can see black and hot pink lace panties, damp and glistening from the slick of Dew's recent orgasms, tempting and inviting for the taking.

Dew can see the smell of his arousal hit the two ghouls in front of him. He sees their nostrils flaring as they turn towards him, pupils dilating as they turn their focus from the game to their new prey.

Mountain and Swiss crawl on all fours over to the fire ghoul in the chair, tails swishing and tongues running hungrily over glistening fangs as Dew offers himself up to the predators in front of him, a delectable fruit ripe for the taking.

They settle on either side of him, gliding their hands up his body. Caressing slim legs and cupping perky little tips, pierced nipples stiff and needy for attention.

Swiss kneels between Dew's legs, kissing up his leg and inner thigh before throwing said leg over his shoulder and running his nose along Dew's hip line, tongue snaking out to catch a taste of arousal and want in the air.

Mountain brings his hands up Dew's back, leaning in to kiss and lick up and down Dew's neck, scenting him as the fire ghoul arches and gasps into his touch, so tiny in the earth giant's grasp.

"I see you've been testing out the new merch, little one," Mountain growls as he sucks deep purple marks into Dew's delicate skin.

"Tell me, firefly, how does it compare to how well we fill you up?" Swiss murmurs, moving in between Dew's trembling legs.

He runs his tongue along Dew's slick-soaked panties, sucking the lace into his mouth and suckling where Dew's clit is, humming at the spicy sweet taste of Dew's need for the two larger ghouls feasting on his desire.

"Dunno," Dew pants, whimpering at the feel of the two ghouls mouths on him. "Think I need a reminder,"

Moutain and Swiss share a look and growl as they descend on their prey.

[ghoultrifle]

I know it’s a bit early but I really hope we get some fan fiction of phantom celebrating Halloween for the first time

Thank you anon! I took this and kinda combined it with @p1nkcanoe's post here because i adore the idea of the abbey descending into chaos for two months a year. Also big credit to @marsohthree for her Phantom Halloween thoughts!

Here's 1.8k words of Phantom's first Halloween! This is somewhat based on unmasked Phantom but that's just because i never celebrated Halloween as a kid so he's all i have to go off asfhajghaldgh. Stick around to the end for a cute photo of Barbie and Ken! (also this is my first non-smut story and i'm a bit rusty, sorry!)

Phantom was practically vibrating with excitement, yes it was only September 1st but he’d heard today was the start of something called ‘Spooky Season’. Some people (Swiss) called it ‘Spoopy Season’ but that was silly because spoopy isn’t a proper word and it doesn’t even mean scary! 

The clock struck midnight, signalling the end of Summer and the start of two months of ghoul-induced chaos, Phantom was loving it. By the time the sun rose on the first of September, the walls of the Abbey were already covered in spray-on cobwebs and the glass panes in the doors stained with a bone-chilling red. Phantom had been the one to source the blood, having recently learned how to hunt with Cumulus; he absolutely was not a natural and the blood covering the walls had sprayed from the new ghoul after he mistook his tail for a rabbit.

All the ghouls from different disciplines of the clergy, including the band ghouls, collaborated on turning the Abbey into a hellfest, literally. They tried to recreate the atmosphere of the pit, only in the ghoul’s quarters of course, they’re not monsters. The mixed quarters, common areas between humans and ghouls, were turned into more of a haunted house with your typical Halloween attractions and scares.

Phantom couldn’t contain his goofy smile as he helped set up the mixed quarters, placing plastic spiders that he animated using his quintessence to occasionally scurry across the fake webs. He was dressed in a slutty devil costume, Rain dressed in the accompanying angel costume. Phantom’s red skirt barely covered his ass and his black mesh top matched his patchy painted nails. Rain was sporting a white miniskirt with thigh highs to match and a halo headband. Of course none of the ghouls needed to dress up, they could simply unglamour themselves, but it was more fun to do it this way.

The first ritual of the day was to carve the ministry’s pumpkins. After the hunting mishap, the pack decided Phantom was not to be trusted with a knife and was instead relegated to design and project management. He chose a bat design, of course, and carefully stood on his tiptoes watching over Aether’s shoulder as he carved out the flying creatures. Once the new ghoul was satisfied with his elder’s work he picked it up like a baby and would not let go, showing it proudly to everyone he met.

It got so bad he almost took it into the shower before Dew whisked it away, “Nuh uh lil guy, I am not cleaning pumpkin seeds out the drain. You can have it back after.” Dew proceeded to accidentally drop the pumpkin as he was walking back to Phantom’s room, startled by the motion-activated skeleton in the hallway. So instead of a pumpkin, the quintessence ghoul was met with a ‘forgive me?’ pair of bat plushies, it was love at first sight. They’re named Barbie and Ken and, yes, they're dressed in pink cowboy costumes.

Time passed as Phantom eagerly awaited The Day. In the meantime he’d often be found wrapped up in toilet roll, launching himself out of the shadows at passers by, trying to scare human members of the clergy and failing miserably, “Why aren’t they scared by my costume, Mounty?” he’d pout. “Well, you do it every morning so I think they know to expect you by now.” Mountain  replies. This only inspires the mischievous ghoul to up his scare game, his dream career being a scarer at a haunted house after the pack took him to Halloween Horror Nights.

The next day Aether and Omega had their work cut out at the infirmary as three clergymen were admitted for various fright-related conditions. Phantom bat-hung from the ceiling, the corpse of a freshly-hunted rabbit in his bloodied mouth, canines poking out as he smiled at the passing humans.

Phantom was forbidden from wearing anything other than normal clothes or slutty costumes from that point onwards.

In the days leading up to Halloween, the pack were sent on a trip to gather themed food for the ministry, Frankenstein crisps, ghost marshmallows, and of course sweets for trick-or-treaters. They thought it would be funny to let Phantom loose in the supermarket with just a list, the poor ghoul only just having learned how to read. “What’s this say?” Phantom asked excitedly, gasping for air as he ran back outside to where his pack was waiting, “Gummy worms, darling, you know the ones?” Cumulus replied the first time. Phantom nodded his head, skipping back into the store, only to jog back out minutes later.

“What ‘bout this one, Aeth?” He questioned, pointing hurriedly at the list. “Can’t see when you’re waving your hand around like that, Bug!” The older ghoul chuckled, moving Phantom’s hand away, “Ah, this is a tricky one. It says choco-late eye-balls.” Aether answers slowly as his hand traces the syllables on the paper. “If you can’t read anything else, just buy something spoopy!” Swiss shouts as Phantom shoots him a death stare from the store entrance.

It took five times as long as it would have taken if the pack joined Phantom, but the little guy enjoyed it too much for them to intervene. The ministry was now fully stocked, ready for the end of October.

Phantom awoke at 3am, the witching hour. His quintessence was tingling with the spirits of those below, rising for their day to shine. Today was the day. He restlessly walked to the kitchen, ready to eat despite the hour, to be met with a very tired Mountain. “Bug, what are you doing up? I thought we taught you how to read clocks?” he asked, still awake from the previous day. “Is Halloween Mounty! I couldn’t sleep any longer, too excited!”

Mountain sighed, clearly Swiss hasn’t been teaching Phantom how to tell the date as well as the time, “Tommy, it’s only the 29th of October, Halloween isn’t for another two days.” He frowned, upset for the eager ghoul. Phantom’s eyes began to water, tears instantly falling at the realisation, embarrassed and dismayed.

“Oh it’s alright, Bug, we can celebrate today if you’d like? Think of it as a practice!” Mountain replied frantically trying to abate the weeping ghoul. He pulled out his phone and texted the groupchat:

Mountain (3:06am): Ok ghouls change of plans… we’re celebrating Halloween today. Be ready :)

Dew (3:07am): huh? halpoween isnt todsy tho

Cumulus (3:07am): Yeah, what? What have you been meddling with Big Boy?

Mountain (3:10am): Phantom thought it was Halloween today and now he’s crying because it isn’t. I can’t bear to look at him like that so I told him we’re doing it today ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Mountain (3:10am): Not my fault btw! Someone (@Swisstopher) didn’t teach new bug how to read the date

Swiss (3:18am): …

Come sunrise, the pack was ready for the rootin-ist tootin-ist Halloween this side of October 31st. Mountain and Aether were dressed up as cowboys, basically an Arthur Morgan cosplay. Aurora wore Phantom’s devil costume with Rain still sporting the angel side. Dew and Cirrus were both zombies, full makeup (and a bit of unglamouring) making them look truly horrifying. Cumulus is wearing a sexy police outfit, because fuck the cops, right? And Swiss is shirtless, wearing a toilet seat cover with ‘Dracula’ written on it in sharpie, “I’m sexy dracula, OK?!”

Phantom was sitting on the edge of his bed, kicking his legs in excitement, ready to start the day. He was adorning a bat costume he made all by himself. It was a black cloth with eye holes cut out and some metal wire to make wings, Aether helped with that part.

They spent the day watching low-budget horror films and eating the Halloween goodies that they’d been saving for trick-or-treaters. Phantom was snuggled on the sofa right in the middle of the large ghoul cuddle pile, chirping happily as he realised how loved he was, his pack did this for him. They sat all day in their uncomfortable costumes just to give him the best not-Halloween ever, and it wasn’t even sundown yet.

Phantom sat by the front door, his tongue poked out as he tied his shoes, ready to go out. The whole pack was coming with him on his first candy hunt, except Dew, he’d gone on a smoke break and was taking so long they left without him.

Dew was, in fact, not on a smoke break. He was carefully knocking on the door of each house the pack was going to visit, “Hi! Yeah I know it’s not Halloween but my friend thinks it is, so could you just play along, please?” he asked, far too many times on behalf of what looked like a fully grown adult. Most of the houses complied, and the few that didn’t, well, Dew gave them a 20 and they quickly got on board. Nothing was going to ruin his Phantom’s night!

And so, one-by-one the occupants of the nearest village were met with a bedraggled Phantom in his homemade bat costume. “Trick or treat?” He’d shout, arms outstretched, holding a comically large bucket for the size of the ghoul offering it.

“Oh sweet thing, happy Halloween! I love your costume, did you make it yourself?” One old lady asked. Phantom nodded as he blushed and twirled to show off the wings. “Very impressive, young man. I think you deserve some chocolate for that, don’t you?” She smiled as she almost emptied a whole tub into Phantom’s bucket, his arms buckling at the weight.

The moon was illuminating the night sky, and the night was winding down. The young ghoul had long abandoned his candy bucket, simply too heavy for him to hold. They walked back to the abbey, Cumulus carrying the night’s haul while Swiss gave Phantom a piggyback, the quintessence ghoul’s legs sore from all the walking.

When they opened the front door, they were met with Copia in bat wings matching Phantom’s. He’d missed the day due to clergy commitments but wanted to show his support for his favourite ghoul. Copia guided them all to the common room where he’d decorated it as grotesquely as he could; bones everywhere, blood dripping from the ceiling, and various speakers playing spooky sounds.

Phantom plopped himself in the middle of the room, taking in the view and soundscape surrounding him as he ate the treats Cirrus left out for tonight, the rest stored safely away from the young ghoul. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to be in such a supportive pack. Oh boy was he ready for actual Halloween.

and they were roommates

[simantha96]

Springtime Dresses for Infants 🌷 (Sims 4)

So, here we are with Miss Ariella and she's got something special to show you. These are 8 recolors of the new infant dress and also my very first uploaded Sims 4 custom content.

- BGC (base game compatible)

- 8 swatches: White as Snow (basic white), Daisybelle (pastel yellow with white ribbon), Lavender (medium purple with white ribbon), Pocketful of Posies (medium pink with white ribbon), Minty Fresh (shamrock green with white ribbon), Bluebell (baby blue with white ribbon), Daffodil (pastel orange with white ribbon) and Easter Egg (white dress with pastel yellow, pink, and blue on the skirt).

- Mesh is Maxis and nothing extra is needed!

- SFS | Patreon

Enjoy!

[gothoffspring]

I saw this dress and knew I needed more colors and patterns so here we are! 💫

DETAILS:

This is a recolor of nitropanic's high skirt denim outfit. The mesh is required and you can find it right here (WARNING: simsfinds link). If you can't access the terrible website just shoot me a quick message and I can help you get the mesh. Sorry for the inconvenience y'all.

There are 35 swatches: each of the 6 'base' designs come in three denim washes for the skirt (light, regular and dark), and three have an extra pink/purple skirt. There are also blank versions with no text/logo if your sim prefers the pattern only look! (Sorry if this doesn't make any sense, I have a long swatch preview below so you can kind of get an idea of what I mean)

There are also 8 color only swatches, using the sunstone v2 palette by @sundialsims. These do not have skirt variations, they only come in the 'regular' wash.

check out an unedited in-game photo right here.

custom thumbnail for the first swatch to make it easier to find in CAS.

CREDIT:

nitropanic for the mesh. This is my last time recoloring something either locked behind a link shortener or exclusive in any way. 💕

credit for the patterns goes to vecteezy as always.

various logos by @simclasshero, @casteru and @surprisepeach.

fonts used by franzillasims. Thank you to all of the creators who made these recolors possible!

thank you to @hazelsnakes and @velvet-disc for testing! 🌈

DL: SFS / MF

[dreamerwitches]

I have mixed feelings on the witches, I'm gonna go through them all.

Renata and Ren: It just doesn't feel like the minor bits match up. There's too many bits that are just slightly too different. Like the screen shape and the bone colour and style. Am I being nitpicky? It just doesn't feel like the witch and doppel are linked. Or that they wanted to make this design for the witch and didn't really care that it didn't look like her doppel. I suppose I like how the witch is more organised than the doppel cause my gripe with it is that it feels a little like the parts don't mesh well. Like, what is going on with that pink bit it does not work. On its own, the witch is good. Fine, pretty, but a little bland and simple. As a design taking from the doppel, I think it kinda fails. Too much was changed.

Cyan and Hinano: Ehhhhhhhhhh I think they just made her worse?? Like, there's so little changed cause the doppel is so witch-like anyway but the changes they did do make her look worse XT the bright tubes are ugly and I dont understand the moth-ear-thing additions. Also the skirt is worse too lol. I miss the gas mask though I understand if that was added for Hinano but you can keep it on the witch c'mon! It's just like they removed all the best parts...

Don Rocinante and Sasara: Ehhhhhhhh here we go again. It looks stupid. C'mon she looks so stupid. Not in an uncanny, scary way, she looks so dumb. I included the doppel attack where she does get legs and that was silly but not as much as this one. Otherwise so little is changed mehhhhh. I liked the doppel so you kinda ruined her for me, thanksssss

Shalimar and Emiri: This is one I'm on the fence on. Design on its own, I really like. She's spooky and weird and the colours are great. I have to main issues. 1) does a 13 year old need such a sexual feeling witch and 2) does she link to her doppel well. The thing with curvaceous or sexualised witches is ones like Roberta I know are okay cause she was in her 30s when she became a witch. You could say some like Candeloro are sexualised cause she's got the booba and stick thin waist, it's kinda hard to deal with... I'm also finding it hard to judge cause I don't know if it suits Emiri, I don't know her character very well. So we'll just move on. If I drew it I would make her less adult-looking My other thought when looking at her beside her doppel was 'if this doppel came from this witch I would hate the fact it uses so little of the witch'. So switching it around, im a little mad they used so little of the doppel. It's like they had the idea for the body and wanted to use it and were like 'oh yeah! the doppel!' so stuck it on as a tail... Also the flower things on the doppel arent in the witch at all ughh. If she was just a new witch on her own id love her...

Vayu and Shizuku: Wow! One I actually finally like now! I think she looks super beautiful, the additions work! But she's not perfect... Just like Emiri and Shalimar, I don't see the doppel working if the witch came first. Why is her handbag now the head? It feels like the teapot(?) head on the witch came out of nowhere. But it's nowhere near as bad as Shalimar. She might be my favourite. I've always been 50/50 on Vayu and she improves that score.

Aodamo and Natsuki: This one's a bit boring... it just feels like they stuck on some additions and called it a day. I think if she was stood up straight I'd like her more... Love the teeth on the horn thing. Skirt is fine. Legs look awkward. Sad they removed her puffy sleeves, doesn't make sense as why the doppel would add that aspect.

Overall, it is a little annoying how clearly some of these are just super easy asset copies of the doppels with no effort put in... I think that's fine for say, Vayu as I think the doppel incorporation makes sense. She's a four legged beast so Shizuku is now riding her. But ones like Don Rocinante, Cyan and Aodamo seem like 5 minute attempts. I'm disappointed. Happy to see witches though, I'm only critical because I care about witches being good

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Can I have a scenario of gremlin Shigaraki forcing his Darling to wear cosplay and roleplay with him?

Tomura/Fem!Reader: Playing Pretend

TW: Noncon, roleplay

"Now THIS is a proper fight," Tomura chuckled, pinning his Darling down. Their ruffled pink skirt hiked up their thighs, revealing a pair of lacy panties. "I bet you're enjoying it too, aren't you?"

Darling looked away uncomfortably, not sure what to respond with. All Tomura had said when he'd tossed this frilly costume was that they were going to try something new today: they were going to be a magical girl, and he would be the villain who managed to defeat her.

____ hesitantly held up the little sparkly wand that he'd given to them as an accessory. "I...um, why aren't m-my special attacks working? What did you do to my p-powers?"

Tomura's lips twitched into a smirk and he quickly pinned ____ by the wrists. They whimpered in genuine fear and lay still as he took the want from them, waiting for what he was going to do next. "I managed to make your wand MINE," he declared. "And now, it runs on a special kind of magic." He pressed a tiny button on the charm at the tip of the wand, and to ____'s surprise it began to buzz. "The only way you're getting your powers back is if my cum..." He trailed off and pressed the vibrating end against Darling's clit, making them gasp in surprise at the sudden stimulation. "Fills up alllll your holes."

____ tried to struggle enough to keep Tomura from complaining about them not putting up enough of a fight. "Please, give them back to me," they whined. "I...I need to save my f-friends and protect the Earth--"

Tomura clicked the button again, increasing the vibrator's intensity and making Darling jump. He shoved them onto their knees and unzipped his dark black trousers. The tight leather was uncomfortable as hell now that his cock was at full mast and straining against them. "You wanna save them? Then submit," he spat. He took one of their hands and shoved the wand towards them. "Get yourself ready down there, and we'll start by filling your mouth."

____ felt tears prick at their eyes as they held the vibrator to their clit and felt Tomura's gloved hands grip the back of their head. He shoved his cock inside their mouth with one swift stroke; their shimmery pink lip gloss smeared his shaft, along with their saliva and his own precum. He wished he'd thought of making ____ dress up WAY sooner after kidnapping them. His mind (and cock) were just brimming with possibilities: a Pro Hero being defeated by him, an elf royal being defiled by a drow or a goblin, some kitty ears or puppy ears on a maid costume as his new pet, an idol being raped by their biggest fan...FUCK, he needed to fill his closet up as soon as possible with all these new costumes.

____ struggled to accommodate his cock as he ruthlessly fucked their mouth, moaning for them to keep that wand on their clit like their life depended on it--and given how unstable and dangerous he could be, they weren't sure if he was still role-playing or not.

"I'm gonna...cum soon," he panted through gritted teeth, fucking their mouth at a rapid pace. "You're gonna swallow, and then...f-fuck...stick your tongue out and strike a cute pose, like a good magical girl should."

____ could only let out a few muffled gasps and gurgles as he harshly shoved his cock all the way down their throat, moaning and biting his lip at the same time. Their natural hair was being tugged by the mesh cap and pastel colored wig over it thanks to how tightly he was holding them in place. They struggled to breathe through their nose with his pelvis firmly pressed against them, and the scent of his musk and the lingering sugary-sweet perfume he'd forced them to wear swirled together and made them gag.

Tomura felt them shaking underneath him and chuckled darkly. "You're already wet thanks to the wand, huh?" Their thighs shook even as they tried to clench them and stay steady in their knees. He slowly pulled his cock out of their mouth and swiftly pinched their nose with his fingers to force them to swallow his cum; once they did, they gasped and shuddered, coughing and wiping smeared cum, lip gloss, drool, and tears off their chin.

Tomura grabbed the wand and held it as close to their clit as possible with their thighs still pressed together. "Squeeze your legs together as tight as you can, and then make peace signs with both hands while you ride that wand," he ordered. He reached for his cell phone on the end of the bed and opened the camera app to record a video. "You're gonna cum while you hump that symbol of peace you love so much, like a good little magical slut."

More tears streamed down ____'s face as they heard the beep of his camera bring turned on, and as they realized that they really were close to coming undone. They were kidnapped by this sick fuck who tortured them, raped them, left them in this dark filthy bedroom all day, and only came back to violate them, make them watch TV or him playing video games, and sleep on top of them while humping their thighs. And now he was making them cum after violating them once again, this time in this creepy costume. His was just leather, spikes, like a joke of what people thought a punk was supposed to dress like. But theirs, theirs was this pastel, lacy, sparkly nightmare that barely covered anything in the first place. If they weren't being forced to wear it and this uncomfortable wig, if they weren't being raped while wearing it, it might have been a fun costume to wear for kicks on Halloween or to a convention. But now...

The rocking of their hips and their squeezed thighs accidentally pressed the wand's button again, making it vibrate at maximum speed. ____'s eyes rolled back as they came from the sudden assault on their clit, and their tongue lolled out as they clenched their fingers into two peace signs. They convulsed and gasped and moaned, and in their haze they could hear Tomura snickering. "Say it," he goaded. "Say, 'I'm a magical slut.'"

"I-I'm a muh-magical slut," ____ babbled, riding the wand through their drawn-out orgasm. "Mmmm, I'm a m-magical slut~!"

Tomura recorded them come down from their high and only set his phone back down when he saw their hips had stopped rocking as fast as before. Their body slumped a bit and the wand clattered onto the ground, buzzing against the filthy carpet underneath them. He reached down to turn it off and took ____ by the wrists. "The magic's working," he muttered, lying down and pulling them onto his lap. "You're gonna get your powers back, but you're also addicted to my cum. Your body and your mind are MINE."

He reached up and whispered into their ear while he rubbed his cock against their thighs. "Act hypnotized," he hissed. "You're addicted to my cock and you love getting raped by me now. Hump me and beg for me to fill you up."

____ let out a sob. He couldn't be serious. This had to stop. They wanted to go home. They wanted to wear their own clothes. They didn't want any more. Tomura glared at them and smacked their ass, and they cried harder. "Do it!"

____ tried their best to wipe their tears and sniffled as they took a few deep breaths. If they needed to act hypnotized, then maybe they could take the opportunity to go into a trance and not have to be as aware of what was happening. And if they did a good job, maybe he'd reward them with some freedom or a bit more time to rest afterwards.

____ lowered their eyelids and ran their hands up and down Tomura's chest. "I...This new m-magic feels...kinda nice," they panted. They reached down and gently grabbed the base of his cock; the velvet bow bracelet on their wrist rubbed against his balls, making him shiver. His eyes were wide as he watched them play their part. "Your cock's so close...is...it's my new wand, right?" They tried their best to smile through their tears and sound like they were in a daze; maybe if they acted like this for long enough, they'd actually start to feel that way for real. "Please, please put it inside me! I need more of your magic, please..."

They started to match his pace and rut against him, and every time the tip of his glans brushed against their stiff clit they gasped. Tomura was stunned at just how well they were doing, just panting and leering at them in their disheveled costume. It was only when ____ started to pull down the top of the frilled chest piece and reveal their breasts that he snapped to action, pulling them down by the neck to suck on one of their tits while guiding his cock into their tight, wet cunt. The lace of their short dress tickled his thighs and stomach as they writhed together with him, sighing and mewling for him to rape them again and again and again until they can't move. Fuck their friends, fuck the Earth, they just want to be his magical little cocksleeve forever and ever!

A trickle of saliva ran down his cheek as he gripped their hips to slam them onto their new wand at a furious pace. From the hallway, Kurogiri silently set down a tray of food for Tomura and his special guest to share once they were done "playing pretend." He felt pity for that poor civilian, but with the weight of this society on his young master's shoulders, Tomura could use a little bit of indulgent fun.

[sanjis-lover-girl]

Please I need Gorillaz content 😭🙏

Could I ask for Gorillaz members (or just 2D and/or Murdoc) having a crush on a male/gn!Reader and how’d they’d confess

Just something cute I thought of 🧍‍♂️

I love them so much, my little blorbs

Tw: murdoc being an ass, mention of weed

2D:

Hes so nervous, shit usually hits the fan when he likes someone openly

But poor thing is so obvious about it

"Oh no I made to much tea, would you like a cup (Y/N)?"

"Oh no I made too much popcorn for my zombie movie marathon, would you like to watch it with me (Y/N)?"

He tries to hide behind you when Murdoc is being an ass, but hes so tall it just looks like a big dog hiding behind a chair

PLEASE BE HIS SMOKING BUDDY

he would also like to skate with you, but is too nervous to ask

would probably confess absent mindedly during a zombie movie

You two where watching a new zombie movie in the living room, the lights where off and a bowl of popcorn between you. You two where at a spot in the movie where a character sacrificed another in order to get away from a hoard of zombies, "Aw now that wasnt fair! He was your best friend! Why would you do that?" 2D spoke up, you looked towards him amused "Your telling me, that if you had to pick between me or you getting eaten, you wouldnt push me in order to get to freedom?" 2D looked at you. "No, why would I push my crush if I could just push Murdoc-...." his eyes widened, "Oops..."

Murdoc:

This ass

He literally thinks you hypnotized his ass at first

"I CANT LIKE A GUY I HAVE A REPUTATION!"

His only solution to his closeted ass thoughts is to pick on you

"You want to kiss me so bad it hurts, HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" "What?" "What?"

But he also forces you to help him pick out outfits for himself and the rest of the band

You are the model btw 👀

"That looks nice poppet, I may not get it for the others but I could get it for you." "Murdoc I'm not gonna be on screen, I'm the stage manager." "WELL EXCUSE ME FOR TRYING TO BROADEN YOUR SHITTY WARDROBE!"

This is how he confesses btw

Another day, another reason for Murdoc to try and get you to wear some type of ridiculous outfit. "Murdoc, I doubt Noodle would wear this." You say in the changing room, "Well how the hell do you think I'm gonna know that if you dont come out and show me?" he says exasperated. He had you put on a bright pink skirt, and a mesh top with a black sports bra underneath, and as much as Noodle would definitely rock it, she definitely wouldnt wear it. Murdoc knows this, hes fucking with you again for his own entertainment, humiliating really. You quickly changed and stomped out of the booth, grabbing your things and headed to the entrance. "Hey, where are you going? You didnt even let me see!" "I'm not going to be humiliated for a laugh Murdoc, I'm going back to the studio, have fun with your shopping." Murdoc scrambled up off the couch and rushed towards you, "Hey, wait! Poppet let's talk this out, I just wanted you to look nice for the show-!" "LOOK NICE?! Murdoc I'm the stage manager, I dont get screen time, theres literally no reason for you to dress me up like some doll-!" "I JUST WANTED TO SEE IF YOU LOOKED LIKE A WOMAN OR SOMETHING I-" "WHY WOULD YOU WANT ME TO LOOK LIKE A WOMAN?!" " TO SEE IF THAT WAS WHY I WANTED TO SNOG YOUR UGLY FACE!"

[fox-guardian]

happy tim stoker tuesday!! in celebration i iffer you this thought i just had, which is tim as a drag queen

kay so this ask is like at LEAST a month old but i couldn't stop thinking about it soooo.... TEEHEE

[ID: A digital drawing of the archive crew in drag costumes. The background is an off-white, and there is a colored shape behind each of them. Tim's is aqua, Jon's a muted purple, Martin's is blue, and Sasha's is bright green.

Tim is a midsized Latino man with light brown skin, a small goatee, heart-shaped ear gauges, and chest hair and he is wearing a long purple wig styled into a beehive with a sparkly bow, a short pink dress with a sparkly belt, pale pink heeled boots and opera gloves, a sparkly choker, and a plastic purple coat. He's wearing purple makeup with long lashes and eyeliner and is posed with one foot raised and his hands behind his head, lifting up his hair. He is smiling and looking up.

Jon is a shorter, thin Arab man with brown skin; long, curly gray and black hair with a matching mustache, and body hair. He is wearing a shiny green dress with a gold belt and a black shawl, short black heels, dark tights, gold eye-shaped earrings, and half-moon glasses on a green beaded chain. He is also wearing green eyeshadow and red lip gloss, and is smiling with his eyes closed while dancing a little, moving his shoulders with his hands held up by his sides.

Martin is a tall, fat white man with freckles, bright red hair, and a tooth gap. He is wearing round gold glasses with white circular earrings, a red white and gold scarf wrapped around his hair with a matching one tied around his neck as a choker, a white half-unbuttoned shirt under a red cardigan with the sleeves rolled up and showing cleavage, a black pencil skirt, peach colored tights, and short brown heels with gold on the backs of the shoes. He is wearing red lipstick and yellow eyeshadow, with cat eyeliner. He is smiling at the viewer and winking, holding a peace sign by his face with his other hand on his hip, leaning over slightly with his foot raised.

Sasha is a midsized Afro-Latina woman with long, curly dark hair styled into an exaggerated pompadour, freckles, body hair, a drawn on goatee and mustache, and orange contouring makeup. She is wearing a yellow mesh crop-top over her taped chest, pale yellow pants, yellow fingerless gloves, a plastic orange jacket, calf-height bright orange lace up boots, and earrings shaped like orange lightning bolts. She also has exaggerated winged eyeliner. She is facing sideways and smiling with one hand on her hip and the other raised over her head, and her legs are crossed over each other as if mid-step with one foot dragging behind her. end ID]

~~~~

i had to draw. them all. i couldn't stop but also couldn't focus because they all look so very good and Distracted Me.

they're all in their own like. levels of drag. sasha and martin went all in, tim went almost all in minus deciding not to shave, and jon just put on a nice outfit and called it a day <3 (also tim and sasha are wearing contacts, i still hc them as needing glasses)

[stardustsims4]

FIONA WEDDING DRESS

December treat number one - a new dress for Fiona. It's her wedding dress from the first movie in white and pink silk fabric and gold details. A two piece dress that is base game compatible - no meshes needed. Downloads you find below, see you soon with more content. Xoxo

Download (Dropbox)

FIONA WEDDING TOP

FIONA WEDDING SKIRT

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Hair is by @manul-sul-sul - Sunrise Hair, and the crown here.

—————————————————————————————-

Do not upload my files somewhere else

Do not steal my content or pictures for other purposes.

Do not claim as your own work

Always link back to original page if you use

Enjoy! 💕

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist (Book 5) Chapter Ten

Father Figure! Lucifer Morningstar x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Teen! Reader

Chapter Ten: You screwed up My Chance to Kiss My Crush

Summary: (Y/N) and their friends go to (sneak into) a party, and it goes wrong in multiple ways.

            “Did you hear?” asked Em, leaning over the back of (Y/N)’s chair as they stitched fabric together.

            “What?” said (Y/N), not bothering to look up.

            “The LUX is hosting a rave tonight,” said Em.

            “That’s weird, I didn’t think my dad was a fan of that theme,” said (Y/N).

            “He isn’t going to be there,” said Em.

            “Okay?” (Y/N) focused on their work.

            “That means we can sneak in.”

            (Y/N) paused and actually looked up at Em. “ ‘Sneak in?’ ”

            “Yeah,” said Em, grinning. “We’ve discussed it a few times with our friends, and now’s the perfect time.”

            “I remember saying it’s a terrible idea,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes.

            “What if I said I already invited the others?” said Em.

            “…I’d be annoyed.”

            “No, you wouldn’t be, you’d be happy to see them,” said Em, winking.

            (Y/N) glared.

            “Okay, maybe a bit annoyed,” amended Em. “But you know you’d have a good time.”

            “Yeah, I don’t mind parties, but I think Dad would kill me if I snuck into one of his,” said (Y/N).

            “He is literally incapable of saying no to you,” said Em.

            “He’d be really disappointed in me,” said (Y/N).

            “He’d be proud of you for trying to rebel, if anything,” pointed out Em. “It would be on brand.”

            “…You’re not wrong,” admitted (Y/N), sighing. “But I just, I don’t know if I’m interested in going out tonight. I’m not a giant partier. And this will be with adults, not other classmates.”

            “I think the rave could be a lot of fun,” said Em. “And our friends will be there, so who needs more?”

            (Y/N) looked away.

            “You know you love breaking rules, and you haven’t in a while,” said Em.

            (Y/N) crossed their arms.

            “Pleeeeeease?” said Em. She gave (Y/N) puppy-dog eyes. “For me?”

            Letting out a long sigh, (Y/N) gave up. “I’m going to regret this.”

l

            “This was such a good idea, Em!” cheered Olive, spinning around in her sparkling pink skirt and t-shirt. Faux jeweled dotted around her eyes, and she wore a giant grin.

            “Listen, this is a better theme than any other I’ve heard of,” said Em. “So I had to suggest sneaking in.” They wore ripped jeans and a sparkling top to match the silver eyeliner she wore.

            “I think we snuck in just because Lucifer’s not here,” said Noa, wearing their binder and a blue mesh top overtop.

            “We are being fairly responsible, though,” said Leon. They just had a more relaxed version of his usual outfit—plain pants and a silk shirt.

            “Right! No drinking, just dancing,” said Marcel, hanging off his partner’s shoulder and wearing a blue crop top and purple pants.

            “I told you it would be good,” said Em, nudging (Y/N).

            They rolled their eyes. They just had red pants, a black crop-top, and dramatic rainbow makeup on.

            (All makeup was courtesy of Olive and Leon when it came to anything more than basic eyeshadow and eyeliner. They were very good at makeup and the artistic side of things while the rest could do their basics and were happy to be models for the rest of it).

            “Okay, fine, it’s not bad,” begrudged (Y/N).

            “That’s hilarious, you’re still pretending to be grouchy,” said Em, laughing.

            “That’s just who they are,” grinned Olive.

            “But they’re a softie underneath,” said Marcel, winking teasingly and swinging Leon around.

            “You guys know me so well,” said (Y/N), cracking a smile.

            “Duh,” said Noa.

            “We’re your best friends,” said Em, squeezing (Y/N)’s arm. They smiled at Em, feeling the warmth of her hand happily.

            Over the speakers, “I Kissed a Girl” began to play, and Macel gasped.

            “Oh my god, I love this song, come on, Leon, we’re dancing!” said Marcel, dragging Leon farther into the crowd.

            “Noa, want to dance?” said Olive, smiling eagerly at Noa.

            “Obviously,” said Noa, staring with a dumb smile at Olive’s grin. They couldn’t say no to her, so as Olive began to scream the lyrics, Noa was right alongside her.

            “Listen, I’m not a girl, but I’m always up for this song,” said (Y/N), smiling and began to move to the beat.

            “Oh, absolutely,” agreed Em. “But you want to kiss a girl.” She grinned.

            “Guilty,” said (Y/N), laughing. “And I’d like it.” They ended their words with the song, singing along.

            Em chuckled and opened their mouth to continue before pausing and frowned. “What the—is that the Detective?”

            (Y/N) turned around. “What?”

            “That’s Chloe,” said Em, gesturing towards a booth at the side of the dancefloor. “With Ella?”

            “And Dr. Martin. And Mazikeen.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Shiiiit, if they spot us, we’re in trouble.”

            “Hide in the crowd?” said Em.

            “Hide in the crowd,” confirmed (Y/N), grabbing her arm and pulled them into the crowd.

            “What about our friends?” asked Em.

            “They’ve already dragged each other away to dance,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

            “Fair enough,” said Em. That was their friend group—ready to hang out and separate in a single moment. They’d come back together when they needed to.

            (Y/N) and Em arrived at the other edge of the crowd and peeked out from the stairs to see if Chloe or any of the other adults had noticed them.

            “I don’t think they saw us,” said (Y/N). They smiled and began to laugh. “Sneaking around a party we weren’t supposed to be at. Wow.”

            “You did warn me,” chuckled Em sheepishly.

            “I guess it is fun, and I do like breaking rules, so it’s not really a big deal,” said (Y/N), nudging Em with a laugh.

            Em smiled, and the pair looked back out over the crowd, taking a moment to just people-watch.

            “Is that…Noa and Olive kissing?” said Em, eyes widening as she spotted their friends.

            (Y/N) peered over with them. “Oh, yeah, definitely.” They grinned. “The song got to them.”

            “It was about time,” laughed Em. “Now they’re together like Marcel and Leon. Just us left.”

            “Then I guess I’m here so you’re not fifth-wheeling,” teased (Y/N).

            “I mean, sure,” said Em, shrugging and smiling. “But it’s also just that I wanted you to be here.”

            “Really?” said (Y/N). “Even after I’m so grumpy sometimes?”

            “It’s like Marcel said, you’re really a softie,” said Em, smiling. “But seriously, I’m glad I convinced you to come.” Around them, the music continued to play, and she smiled at (Y/N). The rainbow lights flashed over their face, and Em couldn’t bring themself to look away. “I love our friends, but I really like doing things with you. I really like being with you.”

            (Y/N) paused and looked at Em, smiling. “I really like being with you, too. If I really didn’t want to do something, I wouldn’t. But I have fun with you.”

            “I’m glad you do,” said Em, grinning.

            The music kept playing, and the whirlwind of lights seemed to transport them into their own little dimension with just them—Em and (Y/N)—happily together. Em glanced down at (Y/N)’s lick, and (Y/N) subconsciously swallowed as they noticed Em’s look. They both leaned in slightly, and as the music swelled, their eyes fluttered shut and—

            “What’s up, everybody!”

            You’ve got to be kidding me.

            (Y/N) and Em jumped back as the DJ suddenly addressed the crowd over the music.

            “This song goes out to a special lady! Cherry Jane, this one’s for you!” The man looked at Chloe and smiled. Music began playing again.

            (Y/N) cleared their throat, and Em looked away from them awkwardly. Neither was sure what to say, not after that.

            “Well, uh, should we find the others? We’ve been here a while…” said (Y/N), trailing off.

            “Yeah, sounds good,” said Em, clearing her throat. “And we should clear out before we get caught by Chloe or Dr. Martin.” (Mazikeen and Ella would probably let them go).

            “Right,” said (Y/N), and they moved back into the crowd with Em.

            As they started walking, a man approached the DJ, keeping his hand in his jacket. Abruptly, he pulled it out and pointed a gun at the DJ. Screams went up in the crowd, and Em grabbed (Y/N) protectively as people pulled back.

            “Where are the others?” said (Y/N) worriedly, looking around and only relaxing when they saw Olive pushing Noa back and Leon holding onto Marcel.

            “They’re here for a sting,” cursed Em, still holding onto (Y/N).

            “We should’ve realized,” groaned (Y/N). Chloe wouldn’t just be out at a rave without a reason. It wasn’t really her thing. But where’s my dad?!

            “Yo, man, what…” the DJ trailed off nervously as he held up his hands. “We can work this out. Just calm down.”

            “Tell them!” shouted the man. “Tell them what you did!”

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you are,” said the DJ.

            “But you know who she is,” said Chloe, stepping out with her own gun and looking at a woman Mazikeen was holding back. “LAPD. Put down the gun.”

            “No!” shouted the man. “They need to know. He’s a homewrecker.”

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow and concentrated on the shadows at his feet.

            “Birdie…” said Em worriedly, holding onto them tighter.

            “It was just one night,” defended the DJ.

            “One magical night!” cried the woman.

            Oh, hell, relationship issues, groaned (Y/N).

            “I didn’t even know she was married. She didn’t say anything,” defended the DJ.

            “You don’t need to do this, Ron,” said Chloe.

            “Yes, I do,” said Ron. “She broke my heart. I messed up with the other DJ and then with the explosion. I’m not gonna screw up this time.”

            Yes, you are because you screwed up my chance to kiss my crush.

            (Y/N) curled their fingers, and the shadows around Ron’s leg tightened. He stumbled—seemingly over his own feet—and fell. Chloe ran forward and pulled his gun away to pin him to the ground. People cried out at the sudden movement, and (Y/N)’s friends all looked at them, knowing they had acted to protect LUX and everyone in it.

            “Good job, Birdie,” whispered Em.

            (Y/N) smiled at them, and if there wasn’t a murderer in front of them and the risk of being caught underage in the club, (Y/N) probably would have kissed Em.

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

@amberforest08

[sky-neverending]

i need the babygirlification of Steve Harrington but like not in a super sexual sense. like still a little bit sexual, don’t get me wrong.… hear me out, okay?

i want confident babygirl Steve. i want the Steve who stops giving a shit about his masculinity and throws on a crop top casually, and the first time Eddie sees it he fucking nearly passes out because “oh my fucking god my boyfriend is wearing a crop top” and steve realizes what affect it has on him and goes with Robin to the mall the very next day. and they scheme and pick out some clothes that get them weird looks from the people in the store because Robin talks loudly and keeps jutting in with her opinion on which one would bring out his eyes, or his legs, or whatever and Steve is having the fucking time of his life plotting.

and he starts slow, throwing on a choker he found and wearing some nail polish, nothing fancy, but each time he ups it more and more until one day he shows up at the trailer in a baby pink skirt with while knee high socks that have a little bow on them, and he’s wearing a mesh top that leaves little to the imagination and Eddie almost explodes in the spot. and then Steve starts doing this thing.

He bats his eyelashes at Eddie, blinking real slow with a devilish grin on his face. and while they eat lunch he purposely licks his fingers clean one by one and Eddie just fucking stares bc holy shit what is he supposed to do in a moment like this. and he drags out his words, voice syrupy sweet as he acts like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

and then Eddie finally gives in and kisses him senseless until Steve is going limp in his arms because Eddie starts touching his hair and if that doesn’t do it for him. so Eddie keeps going as they kiss, sifting his hands through the mane of hair that Steve adores so much, gently dragging his nails across Steve’s scalp and Steve is just melting.

And then Eddie tells him how good he’s been in the softest, sweetest voice you’ve ever heard come out of the metal head, and kisses him on the head. and then they cuddle until they both fall asleep bc Steve will never get enough of the feeling of being in Eddie’s arms, knowing that Eddie will take care of him. Knowing that he’s Eddie’s and there’s nothing he could do to change that.

[smuppetshowmovie]

date: May 19, 2022 caption: figuring out outfits for each of the kid dolls project: The Smuppet Show

from left to right:

Roxy: I went through several outfit versions before finding the final combo; this early option was a sheer mesh shirt with pink and white swirls paired with white pants with red top-stitching (this did not make the final cut)

Rose: more on this power suit in the next post!

Dave: not entirely unlike Pee Wee Herman; I like to think maybe Alpha Dave hung out with Paul Reubens at Hollywood parties or something

Dirk: I knew I wanted to give him a new outfit, but hadn't figured out the details yet so he's still in the classic orange hat shirt and jeans

Jane: her top is from a Billie Jean King "Inspiring Women" Tennis Barbie, the khaki capri pants were something I already had

Jade: she's wearing a vintage Ken t-shirt that turns into a fashionable off-the-shoulder top when she wears it; I paired it with a cheerleader skirt, lime green mesh tights, and a pair of Ken's knee-high black boots. I think this outfit looks incredibly cool and I may need to recreate it for myself one day; I'd just need to find an excuse to wear it! Jade's glasses are from the same Billie Jean King set as Jane's top.

John: his outfit was the last one I figured out. This swirly patterned top and yellow sweatpants look was not even close to making the final cut.

Jake: This ended up being pretty close to his final outfit. Both pairs of brown pants and both green jackets were ones I had lying around already, Green and brown have apparently been popular colors for Ken doll clothes for a while.