#Seamless half-inch collar

[nadal-designer]

[wormsin]

bruce & dick whumptober

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

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When Bruce wakes up, he knows he’s in danger before he opens his eyes. For one thing, he has no recollection of how he got where he is and his last memories are spotty. For another, he’s waking up from a drugged state. And lastly, there’s something heavy wrapped around his neck.

Opening his eyes, he evaluates. Plain concrete room with an odd ceiling design he can’t place. Floor slightly sloped in one direction. Perpendicular to that, a clear barrier divides the space in two and Nightwing is sitting in the other half. He gives Bruce a wave. “Good morning. Or good evening, hard to tell. My internal clock is broken.”

So is Bruce’s.

Both he and Nightwing are dressed in plain white clothes. Natural fiber. Their masks are gone. And around Nightwing’s neck, there’s a heavy metal collar. Must be the same one on him.

It’s not much of a silver lining, but at least they’re not injured and are alone.

No doors that he can see.

“They probably have cameras on us,” Nightwing says. Bruce looks around the room and finds two. Nightwing saw them too, but he’s wisely playing down his abilities. “Do you remember anything useful?”

“The last meeting,” Batman answers. Doesn’t say it was for the JLA. “Then we were tracking…”

That weird signal. Nightwing nods. “Right. No idea how we got here though. Don’t suppose you recognize any of this.”

“Come here.” Batman stands at the clear divider, and Nightwing meets him there. It allows him to get a better look at the thing around his neck. It looks like seamless metal, two inches high. The clasp and locking mechanism, whatever it is, are well hidden.

Nightwing’s eyes are calm. Good. They’ll need to keep their cool.

“It’s not really my style,” Wing says, and then calls out to the room at large. “I’m a gold guy, not silver. Helloooo? Anyone home?”

There’s an odd, popping sensation in Batman’s ears, and a figure appears in Nightwing’s room. They’re humanoid and wearing a large helmet that shows nothing through the visor, a black robe, and matching gloves and boots. Not much to go on. No one Batman knows. “Impatient, are you?” the stranger asks in a distorted voice, some kind of filter.

“Mostly curious,” Wing says. “What are we doing here?”

“You have something I want.”

“A dazzling sense of humor?”

“Information.”

Dick taps his chin. “Hummingbirds are the only birds to fly backwards.”

The stranger pauses. “What?”

“I’ve got more information. Swifts can fly for almost a year straight.”

“Be quiet now.”

Nightwing just grins. “Wait, let me tell you about ducks—”

All of a sudden, Nightwing’s body seizes with a crack of light. It goes on for two horrible seconds, and then he collapses to the ground, groaning.

That explains one of the collar’s functions. Batman doesn’t let any alarm show. Nightwing can handle a little electrocution, and knows they need to keep their cards close to the chest.

“What do you want to know?” Batman asks.

With another pop, the Stranger teleports to his side of the divide. “The Starcore. Its location and defenses.” They seem to look Batman up and down. “I have many ways of gaining such information. If you cooperate, you won’t have the misfortune of experiencing them.”

“Oh boy.” Nightwing chuckles from the other side, pushing up onto his elbows. “You really picked the wrong two people to torture for information. Not that there are a lot of great choices.” He sits up and brushes off his white clothes. “Do you even know anything about us?”

A distraction. It’s working. The Stranger’s attention is turned towards Nightwing. “You’re mere humans. Weak, but intelligent.”

“Too bad for you, we’re torture-proof.”

“Everyone has their breaking point.” The stranger turns more. “And your kind are so—”

Batman punches him fast, but before he makes contact his whole body explodes with pain. All of his muscles seize up. He comes back to himself and he's on the ground, still twitching.

“No more of that,” the stranger says, in their flat, distorted voice. “Not unless you want your hearts to burst from the strain.”

Pop—and they’re gone.

At least now they know what the stranger is after—they're a member of one of the alien organizations vying for the starcore. It's well hidden on earth. But if it falls into the wrong hands, it won't just be their system under threat. Once again, Bruce and his partner are the last line of defense for planet.

Nightwing glances at him. “This is gonna suck, isn’t it?”

[tasteofshapes]

Rukia is a dedicated officer of Soul Society who diligently carries out their orders without fail. Or at least, that’s what she tells herself every time there’s another disturbance in Karakura Town, and she goes back, yet again, to the Living World. No one bothers to volunteer for any mission to Karakura Town anymore, not after the last Shinigami they sent to replace Rukia wrote back constant, daily reports complaining that he had nothing to do because Ichigo kept purifying all the Hollows that turned up.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, went the aggrieved reports, if Ichigo hadn’t also pretended he couldn’t see or hear the guy, and kept insulting him casually as if he wasn’t there. It was highly detrimental to morale, the reports further stated sadly, to have a seventeen year-old criticize your fighting style, honed after centuries of training, and then have the same kid announce to the general vicinity that he achieved Bankai in less than 3 days and then walk away as if he couldn’t see you.

Nobody wanted the Karakura posting after that.

So Karakura goes back to Rukia, although everyone knows that’s just a formality, given that Ichigo has taken it upon himself to guard the town, and she flits in and out of the two halves of her lives, going back to Soul Society every now and then to check in with her brother and her Division. Byakuya is silently disapproving, because he thinks that the Karakura posting is waste of her time and talents, but he doesn’t interfere except to drop pointed comments every once in a while about how Ichigo only ever seems to need Rukia’s help in dealing with Hollows despite having coped perfectly fine on his own during those few months with the replacement, and oh, didn’t he also beat up half of Soul Society and save the world, or was that some other annoying orange-haired kid?

Every time that happens, Rukia just hides her smile and politely steers the conversation to safer waters. Byakuya, to his credit, always lets her. He’s learning how to be a brother, and learning how to navigate the territory that come along with it, and if Rukia is happy, then so be it.

And so now: this. This time, the gates open to the small cemetery that perches on top of a nearby hill. Karakura lies spread out underneath the afternoon sun, glittering faintly like a jewel. It’s the height of summer, and everything’s hot and humid. Crickets chirp in the undergrowth, and Rukia breathes in that heady scent of grass and soil, checks her mobile, and sets off.

The Hollows, when she finds them, are easily disposed of, and are not the sparing practice she’d hoped for. Afterwards, after she has cleaned her sword and double-checked to make sure that there’s no more unexpected surprises, she makes her way to Ichigo’s apartment. He lives just outside the town, near the local university where he attends, and an hour’s walk from the Kurosaki house. It had taken weeks of persuasion from his sisters before he was finally convinced that they wouldn’t fall apart without him if he moved out, and even longer before he finally found and settled on a place that wasn’t too far from the family home.

Ichigo has left his bedroom window open for her as usual. She scales the three stories easily and slips in to the fluttering of the curtains. The place is empty and quiet, and she guesses that he’s at class. Ichigo keeps his apartment tidy, and she spends a minute just walking around, re-familiarizing herself with his bedroom, his living room, his tiny kitchen.

It’s stifling in the small space. She throws open all the windows and turns on the fan, but she’s still sweaty in her uniform, so she heads to his bathroom and shucks her clothes for a shower. The cold water feels amazing against her skin, and she stays in there until the image of Ichigo bitching about his water bill pops into her head.

The idea getting back into her sweaty clothes after her shower is unappealing, so she heads to Ichigo’s bedroom and takes the liberty of digging through his closet for something clean to wear. He has kept a collection of her dresses, but she bypasses them in favour of a pair of his boxers and an old shirt. It’s one of her favourites just because of the way it looked on him, stretched across that broad chest, and it smells so strongly of him that she can’t help closing her eyes as she inhales his scent. It’s oversized on her. The collar is stretched out from years of use and hangs slightly off one thin shoulder, and the hem of the shirt ends midway down her thighs.

Rukia heads back into the living room and settles herself into the sofa, digging around for the remote. She channel surfs for a while until she grows hungry, then pokes around in the kitchen until she finds Ichigo’s stash of junk food. He has eclectic taste, so it’s all unusual flavours like pizza rice crackers and extra spicy tomato potato chips and sake Kit Kat. She fills her arms with an assortment of food and drink, then arranges her spoils around her on the sofa in a kind of junk food nest as she resumes channel surfing.

This is how Ichigo finds her when he finally walks in an hour later: half-asleep from her junk food binge and curled up into one corner of the sofa, crumbs everywhere, and a variety game show playing in the background. He’s not surprised to see her; he had sensed her as soon as she had stepped into the world, and had sat impatiently through the rest of his class, waiting for it to end.

The weak late afternoon light slants in through the open windows, giving the room a soft glow, and Ichigo takes a moment to look at Rukia, at her messy hair and unguarded face, at the seamless way she has slotted herself into his life. She looks like she has always belonged here, here in his life, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and eating his food and sleeping on his sofa, and he can’t imagine a life where this doesn’t happen.

His chest feels tight all of a sudden, and he can’t contain the sudden surge of his reiatsu. It leaps out and touches her, drapes itself over her in greeting, and Rukia grumbles something sleepily and stirs.

“Hey Rukia,” Ichigo says quietly, dropping to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of her. Her shirt has slipped down one shoulder, exposing her collarbone, and his gaze is automatically drawn to that tantalizing stretch of bare skin.

Rukia sits up and stretches. “Hey Ichigo. How was class?”

“Eh, same as always. I go there and listen and stuff this thing with knowledge and smarts.” He raps his knuckles against the side of his head, smiling. “How were the Hollows?”

“Surprisingly easy. It’s strange though, they keep coming back to the same area. It feels like something’s drawing them there.”

“I wonder what,” Ichigo murmurs, still looking at her. His gaze is heavy and meaningful, and it makes her flush. “So, how long are you staying this time?”

Rukia shrugs, running a hand through her tangled hair. “Until they call me back.  So… a while?”

“And where are you going to stay?”

“Well, your sofa is presently unoccupied, so I was thinking, here.”

“My bed’s unoccupied too,” he says, voice husky, and a promise in his eyes, and Rukia has to bite her lip to repress a shiver at the sudden spark of electricity that shoots through her body. Ichigo reads her thoughts and smirks at her, places his hands on the sofa on either side of her thighs and leans forward, his face tilted up to hers.

“Missed you,” he says softly, his face inches from hers.

“Missed you too,” she breathes, and meets him halfway.

-

Day 25: earthly comforts  |  Other Days

-

A/N: I’m not completely happy with this one because I didn’t have the time to hit all the story notes that I was going for, so this will probably be expanded into a longer fic once Ichiruki month is over. Also, my ask-box is open for IR prompts/questions, or if you want to say hi in general.

[gerbiloftriumph]

So you wanna be a king

Or perhaps just cosplay one.

By request, here’s how I, at least, put together my King Graham outfit.

Part 1: Cloak and Cowl

Disclaimer: I’m totally novice at cosplay and only do it for like one event per year if that, so take what you will or throw it all away.

Also I made this like three years ago, so the details get sorta hazy.

Step one: Research. The best part. Take lots of screencaps of Graham from every angle. Hoard the pictures in your phone like a dragon. Stare at them. They’re lovely. He’s lovely. 

Ready to commit to this? It’s mildly expensive and Mostly Time Consuming. But that outfit looks so neat...and I love him...okay. Still good?

Let’s do this.

Let’s start with the cloak and the cowl. The bit that everyone notices first, the dramatic part that snaps behind you when you walk and makes 2015 Graham stand apart from his 1980s days (...other than also not wearing pink anymore).

The best part other than the hat, really.

By the game’s own proof, the cowl and cloak are separate pieces. Which makes your life easier.

I chose a springy red fabric from Joann’s called bengaline. It stretches one way, not both, and it’s delightfully weighted so it snaps and catches the wind in pleasing ways--the effect when walking is almost as bouncy as the video game version. Should you choose the same, know that bengaline is primarily plastic and cannot be ironed (seriously, don’t)--steam it or get it wet and let it air dry to remove wrinkles. Check it out here: https://www.joann.com/sew-classics-bengaline-suiting/xprd757777.html

Bengaline does not feel heavy when you pick it up in the store. It becomes heavy as you wear it. Your shoulders might revolt. Feel free to pick something lighter, cheaper, or whatever is available in the shade of red you love most, but remember that the lighter the fabric weight, the happier you’ll be. Please do not pick velvet. A day at con reveals all truths. Be aware of what you’re putting your shoulders through.

For your reference, according to the receipt I found I apparently bought 6 yards of it (with a half off coupon). This is overkill. You probably don’t need 6 yards. I think I have a ton of it left over and smooshed into deep storage. But then again, it’s red and red is always useful in cosplay, so it doesn’t hurt to have leftovers.

Why reinvent the wheel? I used this tutorial here for the base cloak: https://dangerous-ladies.tumblr.com/post/41564161303/so-you-wanna-wear-a-cape-god-this-new

yes you want a circle cape, not a square cape. circle capes catch the wind better. you’ll be able to tell the difference, i promise.

Side note: you might think you want your cloak to touch your ankles. It looks like Graham’s does. You do not want this. When it scrapes the ground at comic con or renfest, it will get filthy, it will shred, and people (especially you) will step on the back of it. It might even get eaten by an escalator at con. Go up an inch or two--a little goes a long way. It’ll still look great, and you won’t choke.

plus depending on how you stand no one can tell anyway.

Now, for my numbers:

I am 5′6″. I chose 56.5″ (that includes my hem allowance) so that the cloak itself actually ‘swings’ at 55.5″. I copied the tutorial’s neck hole exactly (6″ ‘swing’).

Follow the tutorial’s instructions for the rolled hem. Pin everything. You will hate pins. You may bleed. Doesn’t matter. The cosplay gods are cruel. Keep pinning. If you picked bengaline like I did do not iron it just suffer in silence. Go slowly and carefully, and fight the curve to be as flat as you can.

Time to sew! Put on Game Grump’s King’s Quest 5 LP because it’s the best, and go slowly around your circle at the default sewing machine stitch.

I don’t recommend hand stitching. There is too much fabric and you want to have some sort of life at the end of this. Check with your local public library or that weird relative you forgot about if you don’t have a machine yourself.

Cool, that’s a cloak! Admire it, it’s lovely. I mean, you don’t have a way to wear it yet, but you’re maybe 68% done here so, that’s great!

Cowl time!

I don’t have reference images for what I did three years ago, and there are probably better ways to do this. Feel free to experiment, but here’s how I (probably?) did it:

Measure around your arms and upper chest approximately where the cowl will lay, and make sure you give yourself extra inches so you can still move comfortably. For me, that’s around 48-50″ around. I don’t remember what motivated my number selection for the neck part--it must be wide enough to go around your head, plus room to play with it to make it lie in fun ways like Graham’s. Apparently I picked 28″.

Play with scrap fabric, or if you have lots of extra red feel free to make extra sizes. My cowl looks like this:

That’s 14″ along the neck, 24″ along the body, and a length of 18″--but with a secret 6.5″ tucked inside the cowl itself, so the fabric really is 24.5″ long.

Why would I do that?

To tuck the cowl into the jerkin/undershirt collar and make it look seamless, like a video game character.

Ain’t no sight of tunic around that neck.

Also, the extra fabric gives it more stability and strength, allowing you to play with the collar and get that high edge he has rather than flat fabric. I’d even considered stringing a wire through it in early days, but if you use bengaline the fabric is sturdy enough on its own. Your fabric selection may act differently.

So, I’ve “hidden” 6.5″ worth of fabric in the collar. What would that look like as a pattern? I don’t remember for certain since I didn’t write it down but it probably looked like this:

okay maybe like half an inch seam allowance. an inch is probably overkill. don’t be me.

Since I didn’t want the thickness of a real hem, I did, like, a herringbone stitch (looks like zigzaging triangles) along the part that gets tucked in to the shirt to prevent any fraying, and then I folded it at the dotted line and sewed it in place to get a permanent line.

Unfolded, it looks like this:

In practice, it looks like this:

From the back, it ends up looking a little something like-a this:

Cool, cloak and cowl! You still don’t have a way to wear it, but the pieces are nice. Maybe unfinished and kinda boring, though, since Graham’s King Cloak is Such Luxury.

I mean, it’s fine that way. But it feels unfinished if you’re doing Prologue or Ch2 Graham.

Trimming time~.

I bought one 1″ wide red satin trim roll, and two 2 ¼” red satin trim rolls. Pin the wider trim all along the INNER bottom hem of your cloak (the side with the rolled hem on it), sew slowly. Get your second fresh roll so you don’t run out midway, and do the same on the EXTERIOR. This way, any wonky uneven lines are hidden on the inside and less noticeable.

Nice rule of thumb for cosplay I’ve learned: if you can’t see a mistake from 5 feet away, no one can. Don’t panic.

Do not sew both sides at the same time. It’s tempting, but hard enough to sew around a curve already without trying to keep both sides remotely even. To finish, I folded the long ends over, matched the hem with the cloak, and went for it.

And do the same to the bottom of the cowl with your thinner trim--you only have to do the exterior since no one can see the interior of that piece, so it’s much easier.

Cool! You’re done! You’ve got a cloak and cowl, trimmed and gorgeous.

“But Gerbil,” I hear you complain, “I still can’t wear it! It doesn’t have any attachment to me, even though I have lots of attachment to it since I just dumped like a hundred hours and at least $50 into it.”

Fair enough.

If you used bengaline like me, you’ll discover very quickly that it’s heavy heavy heavy. It’s gorgeous and thick and looks great, but the weight. Sure, it didn’t feel heavy when you bought it, when you sewed with it, when you first put it on. But it’s hour six of wearing it, and your shoulders hate you. If it hangs off your neck like you would assume a cloak should, you will choke. It hurts. The weight must sit on your shoulders.

Luckily, this costume has two separate pieces, and the cowl is going to hide where it hooks to you.

You’re going to buy two snap clips. The big ones. Like, at least an inch. You’re going to pick out an anchor t-shirt from Goodwill. It literally doesn’t matter what it looks like, but it’s going to be one size too small and will go up to your neck. You need it to be totally comfortable to wear (the more breathable the better--this is a hot cosplay), but tight enough that it will not shift under the weight of your cloak movement, thus the smaller size. Sew the snaps to the inside of the cloak and just above your collar bone on the shirt.

(apparently Superman wears it like this too, go figure)

(you might want to wait to sew the snaps on until your jerkin/tunic is finished before you sew the snaps to your anchor shirt, so you can be sure the collars match up--you need to have room for the snaps to sit on the anchor shirt, but still sit under your tunic)

(if you think of a better solution, have at, but please, do not tie it around your neck regardless of the type of material you bought. If anyone steps on the back, yourself included, and it’s attached by your neck, you’re out for the day. Do not.)

(also, one more pitch for the snaps--say your cloak does get caught on something. a wandering dragon, a passing knight’s sword, or ye olde con escalator. if it’s attached by snaps, not ties, it’ll pop right off with enough force, leaving you unharmed, but the snaps are heavy duty enough to stay put all weekend or multiple years without trouble)

And you’re done. That’s a cloak and cowl fine enough for a king, friend. Or at least fine enough for comic con.

A note on the out and about: you’re probably going to feel worn out after a few hours at con. Take frequent sitting breaks. After a few times wearing it you’ll get used to it and can fly around in it all weekend without trouble, but the first few times add unexpected strain to your neck and shoulders so take it a little easier.

Also, high key recommend handwashing the cloak (yes, the whole thing, it smooshes down well in water, I promise, it’s doable, just difficult) in your (clean!) bathroom sink with handwashing detergent, and laying it out to dry on towels. I wouldn’t trust the satin trim to hold up to a machine, but it withstands sink washing just fine.

(Was that useful? Was that atrocious? Do you want more pieces how-to’d? Do you want a full How-To-Graham Tutorial? Let me know, happy to ramble more!)

[nadal-designer]

[bedizzled]

• Cosplay Girl T-Shirt • For all those ladies who love Cosplay...this fun shirt is perfect for when you aren't dressing in elaborate handmade costumes but you still want the world to know, you're a serious Cosplayer. Very nice mid-weight, standard fit ladies shirts. Colors: Charcoal, Garnet, Light Pink, White, Black Sizes: S, M, L, XL, 2XL, 3XL MATERIALS: 5.3 oz., pre-shrunk 100% cotton Heather Colors are 50/50 cotton/polyester MORE INFO: Seamless half-inch collar. Side seamed. Cap sleeves. Double-needle stitched hems. Taped neck and shoulders. Tearaway label. #tshirt #shirt #tshirts #shirts #tees #tee #top #tops #cosplay #cosplaygirl #teens #women #womens #teen #girl #girls #cosplayersofinstagram #cosplaygirls #cosplayer #cosplayphotography #cosplays #cosplayers #cosplaying #instagood #instagram #instadaily #instalove #instalike #instafollow #clothing https://www.instagram.com/p/B64ns8XBF9P/?igshid=v9vfxe98jz6p

[shayneofthedead]

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[nurdtyme]

For just $16.50 Perfect pop culture t-shirt to show off any at convention or social gathering. T-Shirt Material is 5.3 oz., pre-shrunk 100% cotton Heather Colors are 50/50 cotton/polyester Seamless half-inch collar. Side seamed. Cap sleeves. Double-needle stitched hems. Taped neck and shoulders. Tear away label. Care Instructions Machine wash cold. Inside out with like colors. Only non-chlorine bleach when needed. For best results, hang dry after wash. You may also tumble dry with cool/low heat. Fabric softener may cause fading. Do not iron. Do not dry clean. Design Info Featured art is created and owned by independent artists from all over the world. Not sold in stores and available online only. We work with our artists directly to provide high quality prints and pay them for their work. We pride ourselves in the quality of our products. Digital representations. Size and color may differ. Products proudly printed in the USA Products may ship separately Secure online ordering

[dianadudesigns-blog]

For just $19.99 Music Symbols (Gildan) - Women's Cotton Short Sleeve T-Shirt Type: 100% cotton, for Women Production Time: 5-7 Business Days Shipping Time: 2-3 Business Days 6.67 Oz. Pre-shrunk 100% cotton. Safety pink: 50% cotton and 50% polyester; sport grey: 90% cotton and 10% polyester. Features seamless half-inch collar and side seamed. Cap sleeves and double-needle stitched hems. Short sleeves. Taped neck and shoulders. Sizes: S,M,L,XL,XXL. Please calculate your size from the measurement chart below. Machine wash: cold(max 30℃ or 86℉); Do not use bleach. Iron on low. Note: This product is printed and shipped from the USA and can be sent to United States addresses only.

[hopeishappinessff]

Chapter 12

I was dreaming. I was absolutely positive that I had to be dreaming. And I was dreaming that there was the slightest delicate sensation pressed against the side of my neck. But yet… it felt all too real to be just a dream. My weary eyes fluttered open to the darkness and I raised my gaze to the ceiling. I was hesitant to turn my head to find out exactly what was brushing against my neck, or whether I was really even in a dream, because my eyes were open now… and I was staring at the actual ceiling of my bedroom… and the sensation was still there against my neck. Blinking slowly, I shifted my head but was abruptly stopped by the feeling of skin brushing against my jaw. A familiar intoxicating aroma wafted into my nose and I shut my eyes reflexively to inhale.

“You smell good.” A husky voice whispered and with each word, a pair of lips grazed against my neck, “You always smell so good.” Freezing against his hovering body, it only took about two seconds to realize that Chris had completely straddled me in the midst of my slumber. It was he who meshed his lips against the side of my neck, slowly moving closer to a spot just inches below my ear and forcing me into a frenzy of light trimmers.

“Chris… wha-what are you doing?” I stuttered breathlessly. He continued to press soft butterfly kisses all over my neck as he worked his way down to my collar bone. His words were mumbled and incoherent and the vibration alone initiated my sudden struggle to keep my eyes open. I felt intoxicated as I fought to imagine that this wasn’t reality. I couldn’t contain it. In the simplest way possible, he was forcing me into a world of euphoria and before I could stop it… I moaned. I could feel his wide grin against my skin and eventually, he worked his way back up near my ear “Aww, I got you moanin’ now Hope?”

I couldn’t bring myself to respond to him. I had no clue what he was doing to me, but my body seemed to react like a chemical equation. His touch was gentle against the exposed skin of my hips and I could feel my dormant region warming and throbbing as he pressed himself firmly against me. “Hmm?” He hummed against my neck, pausing to glance up at my flustered face. With my eyes squeezed shut, I prayed that I wouldn’t embarrass myself with yet another moan.

I could feel him shifting above me. The heat of his face lingered above mine and before I could fully register his suave movements, he pressed his lips against the side of my jaw. He leisurely trailed seamless kisses along my jawline and stopped only when he’d reached the corner of my mouth. “Can I make you moan Hope?” He muttered, gazing at me through the darkness. I had yet to form even a few words together to respond to him and he quickly leaned down and pecked the corner of my mouth. “Why you ain’t sayin nothing love?” He asked, leaning to press his lips almost directly against my ear.

“What are you doing?” I somehow managed to utter in the most pathetic tone. With an impish smirk, he maneuvered back down to my lips and lingered “Thanking you.”  Within the blink of an eye, he lowered himself and almost magnetically meshed his lips perfectly into mine. I clinched my eyes shut and without moving a single muscle, allowed him to take lead. I lay beneath him, frozen in place as he carried me away into a blissful realm I’d never known just from the feeling of his lips against mine. He quickly flicked his tongue out over my top lip then slinked away from me, amusement plastered all over his face.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked with all humor and no reserve. Slowly shifting my head from side to side, I took advantage of the moonlight seeping through the blinds and stared up into his smiling eyes “Let me show you.” He shifted the weight of his body onto his left arm and lifted his right hand to caress the side of my face “I think kissing is probably the best way to show someone exactly how you feel about them. There’s so many forms of it and you can make it as gentle or intense as you want,” He dropped his gaze down to my lips suddenly, then swiftly raised it to meet my own with a brilliant smile, "Kissing is the most delicious, most beautiful and passionate thing that two people can do…”

He mumbled the phrase seductively as he lowered his head and pressed his lips against mine. His hand never stopped caressing my cheek and I found the sensation soothing in my effort to adjust to the heavenly feel of him so intimately close to me. As if encouraging me with only his touch, I pouted my lips out against his and finally returned the kiss. He smirked then promptly parted his lips ever so slightly, requesting entry. I froze almost immediately and he chuckled as he moved a few inches away from me, yet again.

“A simple kiss, not too much… just enough to get your message across, but not enough to make the person you’re kissing think ‘damn, this nigga can kiss.’” He laughed and tucked his bottom lip away in his mouth, with a smirk playing at his lips. He gave minimal effort to making me feel relaxed beneath him and I found myself giggling softly at his humor. “You can make out with someone too…” He’d lowered his tone significantly and dropped himself down to both his forearms, bringing his face only centimeters from mine, “It’s intense, you know. You can get lost in the moment so easily… watch…”

He instantly reconnected the plump flesh of his lips with mine and within seconds, his lips were parted and he maneuvered his tongue out. He gently slithered the appendage between my lips and I shut my eyes as he eased me back into that euphoric wonderland. I easily found myself reciprocating the intensity that he’d promised only as I followed his lead. He pulled back to suckle my bottom lip into his mouth, then quickly shifted to the top to do the same. He worked like a magician as he performed his magnificent tricks on my mouth. The sounds of our smacking lips emitted into the atmosphere and soon, he used a knee to part my legs and he effortlessly nestled himself between my thighs. Reaching for both of my hands, he raised them up just above my head and entangled them with his own. With a final tug at my bottom lip, he pulled away and placed his delectable lips against the side of my neck. I whimpered at the unexpected sensation of him sucking as though he were a nocturnal creature prowling for blood.

With a satisfied sigh, I rolled my eyes up toward the ceiling and focused on maintaining my composure. My mind was lost in the rapture of the heated moment and I failed to notice that he’d sat back a bit and released my seized hands. I gasped at the feeling of his large limbs against the skin of my stomach and pried my eyes open to look down at his actions. He’d tucked his hands under my shirt and slid the fabric up to reveal my midsection to his ravenous eyes.

“Chris,” I whispered in a trembling voice, “Chris wait.” He eased his way down and quickly slipped his tongue out over my belly button, all the while holding me in place beneath him, “Mm… what’s wrong love?” “Chris stop… we can’t.” I murmured. He dipped his tongue into my belly button and finished with a kiss just above it “Why can’t we?”

Pressing my hands down against his shoulders, my fingers curled and I clutched desperately onto his shirt. I was honestly torn between pulling him up for yet another mind blowing kiss or pushing him away from me altogether. My mind flashed suddenly to the entire reason why he was at my house and in my bed in the first place… My eyes immediately fluttered open and I went with my gut, pushing a bit harder against his shoulders “Chris, please… don’t… don’t complicate your situation.” Freezing just above my quivering belly, he raised his gaze to meet my own distressed stare and released a deep sigh “I’m sorry Hope.”

I eyed him warily as he lifted himself completely away from me and moved off the side of the bed “I’m so sorry. I think I… should just go now.” I remained flat on my back as I watched him grab his hoodie and hat from my desk chair. He moved quickly to my bedroom door, pausing briefly to glance over his shoulder at me “Goodnight Hope… and thank you.” With a smirk, he slipped away and shut the door behind himself… leaving me there, quivering with a foreign sensation surging between my thighs.

--

I awoke to a sinfully delicious aroma wafting through my room. Stretching my arms high above my head, I scissor kicked my legs to get the thick comforter away from my body. With the tension of my thighs rubbing together and the most uncomfortably sticky sensation settled in my underwear, I grimaced at the feeling and quickly slipped out of bed. The feeling was awkward and I was almost disgusted with myself, so I nearly ran to the bathroom and jumped in the shower before I could even remove all my clothes.  

Nearly half an hour later, I exited the steamy confines of the bathroom and hastily threw on a simple strapless maxi dress. I tossed my hair up into a messy bun and ambled out of my room, trotting down the stairs toward the kitchen. “Well good morning Miss sleepy head.” My aunt greeted me as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Morning Auntie.” I smiled as I eased up beside her and kissed her cheek. “That plate over there is yours baby.” She said. “Aw, thank you… I’m starving!” She laughed as I went over and scooped the plate from the counter and took a seat across from her at the table.

“So Miss thing, have you heard from Chris lately?” She asked, lifting her coffee mug to take a sip. Nibbling on the end of a piece of bacon, my mind wondered briefly to the interesting events from last night and I quickly looked away from her “Um… no I haven’t heard from him.” “Mm, I sure hope he comes home soon. I spoke to Joyce the other day and I know she’s worried sick about him. She’s just so upset over the way things turned out with him.” Her brows were furrowed with concern as she shook her head. I could feel my heart thumping against my chest and I prayed that the next words to slip from her mouth wouldn’t have anything to do with Gabby’s pregnancy.

“What do you mean?” I forged a calm demeanor, even as my heart thumped like crazy. “She said a while ago, sometime last week I think… the two of them got into a huge argument and he stormed out. He told her that he was grown and that he was leaving. Now I’m not sure if he was just leaving to cool down, or if he actually intends to move out. I just feel awful for Joyce because knowing how hard headed that boy is, I know he won’t set foot in her house anytime soon.” She explained with a sympathetic expression.

“Geez....” I muttered. I was truly stunned by the new information she’d just added to Chris’s long list of unfolding drama. My aunt was absolutely right… if he left his mother’s house on such a bad note, there was no way he’d be coming back anytime soon. He was a resilient young man who stood strong behind his principles, even if that meant going up against his own mother.

“Yeah… so I told Joyce I would do something with her to help ease her mind from this whole ordeal. So tonight me, her, and Cynthia will be enjoying a girls night on the town.” She said with a cheery smile. We shared a laugh as I playfully rolled my eyes at her “Well, you have fun young lady.” “I certainly will ma'am.” With a sassily raised brow, she turned and sashayed out of the kitchen, leaving me amused at her silly antics.

--

Plucking my phone from the charger on my nightstand, I opened the first of two notifications I’d received while eating breakfast.

Dez Rivera 10:15 AM ----------------- Morning boo! Me & the girls are hittin up the mall today & the movies later tonite. U comin? Call me babe!

Charlie Brown 10:20 AM ------------------- Good morning b-u-tee-ful! Sorry for the way I left last nite… didn’t wanna make shit awkward for u. Uhhhhh… I’m checkin for apts today. U’ll ride with me rite? I hope u will, becuz I’m on my way to get u!!!

With a shake of my head, I smiled at his absurdity and locked my screen. I moved toward my closet to retrieve a simple pair of sandals and my cross-body bag. Tossing my phone inside and grabbing a pair of aviator shades from my accessory stand, I exited my room and ambled down to the front door. I could hear the sound of his bass before I could even get the door open. I stepped out onto the porch, turning to secure the door just before skipping down the steps. “Aye girl wit yo fine ass, you ridin with a nigga today?” Chris yelled from the driver side window. With a quick glance at his mother’s car that was indeed parked in her driveway, I shook my head at his lack of discretion and quickly walked over to the passenger side of the truck. “I guess I am.” I said, smirking as I secured myself in the seat.

--

We cruised along the lively streets of Richmond to the tune of J Cole’s Crooked Smile and Chris seemed absolutely content as he rapped along to the blaring music. I stayed quiet as I took in the scenery of the well manicured and contemporary part of town we’d just driven into. The roads were immaculate and the sidewalks were perfectly decorated with the greenest grass and the most beautiful trees. The area was bustling as people dipped in and out of the plethora of shops lining the streets and I found myself smiling at the sight of it all.

“Honey, we’re home!” Turning to face beaming Chris, my jaw dropped before I could get my head all the way around to face him. Looking out just past his grinning face, I took in the stunning building through his window. He’d just pulled the truck into the parking lot of the most stunning apartment complex and turned down the volume of his music. “Chris… is this one of the apartments you’re interested in?” I asked, ogling at the place. “Yep,” He nodded happily, “I’ve been doing a lot of research on the Midtown area and I fell in love with this shit. Like, I’m amped to check this place out.”

I was stunned. I wanted to ask how on earth he could possibly afford a luxury apartment like this, but he’d already made his way out of the truck and moved around to my door. He pulled it open and stepped aside, waiting patiently for me to climb out. Once I finally stopped staring at the building like a groupie, I hopped out and shut the door behind me then moved in sync with Chris as he sauntered up to the front office of the complex. “Hello… Mr. Brown?” A young enthusiastic looking girl with a short brown bob peered at us through a pair of black retro framed glasses.

“Yes…” Chris smirked at the girl and hesitantly moved forward to shake her awaiting hand. She grinned as she adjusted the glasses on her nose and slid close to a calendar book on her sleek, modern desk. “You have a noon appointment to view our one bedroom unit, correct?” She clarified as she turned to type vigorously at her computer. With a nod, he eased down into one of the chairs situated in front of her desk and I quickly followed his lead, claiming the seat beside him. “I’m Cassandra by the way. We spoke earlier this morning about your interest in our luxury apartment homes!” Cassandra was upbeat and seemed almost more exited than Chris. Her energy was so contagious... I couldn’t help but grin at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was like how does this girl know me!” Chris exclaimed and I laughed as Cassandra giggled and rotated in her desk chair to face me. “And you must be his lovely girlfriend.” She beamed. “Oh, no I’m…” I reached over to shake her extended hand and bit back a gasp at the sudden feeling of Chris’s hand gripping my left thigh. “How rude of me, this is Sy’Diyah. I wouldn’t be able to make a selection today without her.” Tilting my head to glance at him, I gave him a blank expression as he discreetly winked.

“I must say, you two are just beautiful together!” Cassandra clapped her hands together and looked from me to Chris with excitement almost permanently etched on her face. Chris was obviously determined to give the girl a show and he smoothly slid his hand further up my leg, capturing my arm and moving his hand down to link with mine. I looked down at our conjoined hands and my mind almost immediately shifted back to the feeling of his hands roaming freely over my body just the night before. At that precise moment an unmistakable sensation of euphoria shot from the top of my head down to my toes and I swiftly whipped my head around to face Cassandra.

“Well if I could just hold onto both of your driver’s licenses, we’ll jump right into this tour!” Plucking my license from the depths of my bag, I slid it across the desktop and stood from the comfy seat beside Chris. He gripped my hand in his and stepped away from the chairs, quickly trailing behind Cassandra who’d already skipped off away from her desk.