#So I have a bit of play around and experimented with the colours and I think they turn out pretty good with Niji out of the bunch

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment is not that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm..

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

[loopyarts]

Here’s some experimental doddles of the gremlin trio in bright, funky and somewhat popart colours and some bonus pen doddles of Ichiji coloured in with coloured pencils that I’d did over a week ago.

[ceruleancattail]

Alright victims look. Dig out your ears and hear me out on this one.

V-tuber MC.

Look, the bills have to be paid in some way, right? A time-flexible job would be ideal, no? And if there an added layer of anonymity added to the job, won’t it be a perfect side-hustle?

Imagine streaming every week after classes, playing games or perhaps showcasing a certain talent of yours? Singing, drawing, dancing … whatever you’ve got. The list just goes on. Maybe you just sit down with your viewers, and have a light-hearted chat.

Talking about your friends and experiences seems to be well-welcomed, on your streams. Well, some of your experiences in Night Raven College are just… ridiculous. Having to run after a chaotic bunch of friends is exhausting, so at least those wacky experiences turn into good stories for the internet.

Everything is kept anonymous, of course. People get nicknames to cover their identities, and people think all of these tales come from you playing as the character they portray.

Now imagine Idia just stumbling across your streaming account. Perhaps he was bored, one day after class… and lo and behold, you were streaming right after class as well. Streaming some… story based game.

At first he joined just to have some background noise while he gamed. Idia told himself he’ll just lurk, maybe judge your gameplay for a bit. Yet he found himself clinging on to your every word, focusing more on your laughter then the controls of the console in his hand.

He ended up losing every match he played that day, but your follower count steadily went up by one.

Idia soon found himself tuning in more and more, looking forward to the days you were free to stream. They miraculously mirrored his quite closely, what a wonderful coincidence! He was still very much a lurker, but occasionally his trembling fingers will type out a word of encouragement or two, in the chat.

He likes the way you say his username, the way you read out every letter he typed. You remember him, oddly enough. Aways perking up whenever his username flashes across the screen, grinning away like an idiot.

Idia can’t say he doesn’t like it, though.

He keeps a keychain of you on his bag. A subtle design, never your model outright. Maybe it’s a small plushie of your fan mascot, or the logo of your avatar. Either way, he takes it with him everywhere, thumb stroking it whenever Idia’s thoughts wander.

Wonder what happens when one day, he stumbles across you in the hallway. Bags stuck together because your keychains tangled, and he saw you had the exact same one? The moment you open your mouth, apologising profusely… Idia knows. You’re the streamer he’s been faithfully watching ever since that day.

Oh no, he’ll never dox you outright. Idia knows all too well how badly parasocial relationships tend to go, and he would never want to scare you off. Somehow, one way or another, you end up sharing a class with Idia.

Now, he was fully planning to hide in the corner throughout the lesson… but you sat in front of him. Slipping your phone out of your pocket, before booting up… a game. He’ll never normally make the first move, but the moment he saw his favourite game pop up on your screen, a hesitant sentence slipped right off his tongue.

“I play that game too.”

Beaming at him, you spin around. Clutching your phone in your hands, excited to find another game enjoyer in the same class. You asked some friendly questions about what character he played, how far along the quests was he, and other gameplay related questions.

Idia had fun, discussing the game with you. Talking all the way until the teacher walked in and gave both of you a nasty glare. You slid right back around, but not before scribbling something quick onto Idia’s palm.

You wink at him, before folding up his fingers into a fist. Once your back was turned, Idia couldn’t help unclenching it to take a peek.

Your friend ID code, scribbled out in your favourite colour on his hand. Ending with a cute little heart. Great Seven, you were adorable.

Guess he’ll have to actually be serious about this game, for once.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Siblings

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: There's a baby at your house

You're all waiting around for Pernille's friend when you ask.

He's meant to be dropping off his baby because of some emergency with his wife's mum. It had all been so unexpected but as the only one in the friend group who had hands-on experience with a baby before, Pernille was happy to volunteer.

He's assured her that it would only be for a few hours anyway while they sorted things out so she didn't worry much.

You're sitting at the coffee table with a sandwich for lunch as a show Magda's watching plays aimlessly in the background.

"Momma," You say suddenly," Why have you got a sister?"

The question is completely out of nowhere and a little amusing at how bluntly you say it.

Pernille laughs. "Well, your grandparents wanted more than just one child so they had me and Louise."

You think for a moment. "And that's why Morsa has a sister too?"

"Yes, princesse, that's why Morsa has a sister too."

That stumps you a little bit and the doorbell rings before you can ask any more questions.

Momma's friend comes running in, thanking her profusely before handing her the baby boy in a carrier. He leaves out the door as quickly as he came.

Momma coos over the baby and you come over to investigate.

He's kind of ugly, with wispy blonde hair on top of his head. His face is all wrinkly and strange. His expression scrunches up when he sees you and you decide that you don't like him.

Momma and Morsa seem to though and you don't like that much either.

This baby takes up a lot of their time.

You don't fully understand what's so interesting about him as you sit at the table and colour. You wonder, briefly, if this is Momma and Morsa practising.

They both have siblings. You wonder if they need to practice with this new baby because they forgot how to look after one now that you've a big girl.

The thought of another little girl (or boy) in the house makes your stomach feel all knotty and you can't quite work out why.

"Momma," You say, tugging on her shirt," Up!"

Pernille picks you up instantly but frowns. You haven't asked to be picked up like that for a while now. You hadn't done that in months and the last time was only because you had a little cough and wanted a cuddle at training.

You bump your head against her shoulder and wrap your arms around her next, squeezing as tightly as you can.

Pernille's frown deepens and she tests your temperature with the back of her hand.

There's nothing out of the ordinary.

"Are you feeling alright, princesse?"

You don't answer, just rest your head back on her shoulder. It's a little difficult to help Magda take care of the baby with you surgically attached. You refuse to be put down.

If Pernille even gives a second of attention to her friend's child, you whine and tug at her, wanting all of her attention on you all the time.

You ignore the baby completely even as Magda tries to introduce you. You don't want to look at his stupid wrinkly face nor let him play with your toys.

You don't want him being held by your Morsa either but you can't be in two places at once and being held by Morsa means that Momma's arms are open for the boy to sit in and you don't want that either.

"No, Momma," You say when she tries to put you down.

"I have to go to the toilet, princesse," Momma says," I can't hold you while I do that."

You accept that as true but you trail her to the toilet and get her to pick you up immediately after she's done so she can't pick up the baby.

It's a long day for you, constantly making sure that your mothers remember that they still have you and should pay you some attention. You get given a brief respite when the baby goes to sleep and wedge yourself firmly between Momma and Morsa on the sofa.

You kind of want a nap too but you don't want to waste this time when their attentions are on you so you just sit, holding their hands in silence.

You've never been more happy in your life to see that baby go home with Momma's friend from earlier.

"What was up with you today, huh?" Morsa asks as she and Momma tuck you into bed that night.

You pull a face. "There was a baby."

"There was. Did that upset you?"

You shake your head. "I'm a big girl. I don't get upset."

Momma laughs as she perches on the other side of your bed. "Big girls can get upset too. Big girl just explain why they're feeling upset."

You're a big girl so you're going to do that. "Were you practicing with Momma's friend's baby?"

"Practicing for what?"

"For when I get a sibling like your two have," You say," Do I have to have a sibling?"

Morsa's brows draw together. "Do you want one? A sibling?"

You shake your head and pout. "Just want you and Momma."

"Are you sure?" Morsa prods," A sibling can be fun to grow up with. You get to have someone to play with all the time."

"I play with Jessie and Niamh all the time," You reply," Don't need a little brother or sister."

Momma laughs as she gives you a goodnight kiss. "I think," She says," That our family is already the perfect size."

[djarin]

hi i'm sorry to bother you but do you have any tips on giffing dark indoor scenes? yours always look so good!

hi there! not a bother at all :) i can definitely try to explain the steps i usually take under the cut!

this tutorial will assume that you already know the basic steps of gif-making — if you don't, there are lots of great tutorials floating around on this site that can help you out! :)

here's the gif i'll work with to explain my steps, the bottom being the original and the top being the coloured/brightened version.

before we start, a general tip i recommend keeping in mind: if you want to brighten a dark scene, you'll want to get your hands on the highest quality download you can find. 1080p is decent, but if your laptop can handle 2160p 4k hdr files* without sounding like it's about to explode, that'll get you even better results!

(*colouring hdr 4k files requires a different set of steps — the scene will appear washed-out on photoshop, so you need to make sure that you don't end up whitewashing anyone if you do choose to work with this type of file.)

since most of my downloads are 1080p, i'll use this type of file in this tutorial.

the first step of my gifmaking process with 1080p files is almost always the same no matter what scene i'm giffing. i make a brightness/contrast layer and set the blending mode to screen:

now my gif looks like this:

depending on the scene and how washed out it looks after this layer, i'll play around with the opacity. for this gif, i didn't touch the opacity at all. use your best judgement for this, because every scene is different!

i find that dark indoor scenes are usually tinted in yellow or green. one of my first goals is to try to fix the undertone of this scene before focusing on brightening it any further. i go to colour balance for this, and play around with the midtones, shadows, and highlights.

again, every scene is different, so the amount to which you use colour balance will differ, but for this specific scene, my goal was to neutralize the yellow. i focused particularly on the midtones and shadows of the colour balance layer, moving the scales to the opposite of the reds.

doing so will help with neutralizing the yellow. the only reason i moved the scales towards magenta and blue (therefore making it a bit more red than less) rather than green and yellow in shadows was because i wanted a darker contrast in the blacks. moving them to green and yellow made the overall scene more yellow since there were so many dark spots that shadows affected. (you'll see what i mean when you start experimenting with your own gif — this part of the process really just depends on your preferences!)

our gif might not look that much better yet, but it will soon! our best friend channel mixer is gonna help us out. for an in-depth post about how to use this adjustment layer, i recommend checking out this tutorial.

i'm someone who prefers to make more than one layer for the same adjustment layer for a reason i can't even explain (i just find that it helps me stay more organized). so don't think of this process like i can only use this layer once so i MUST fix it NOW. you can create multiple layers of the same adjustment layer, because every layer on top will affect the ones underneath it.

since my priority is getting rid of the yellow tint, i went to the Blue section of the channel mixer and increased it in all of the scales:

this step alone has helped us out so much, because look at our gif now!

not only does the background look less yellow, but so does izzy's skintone.

now i'm going to focus on trying to brighten the scene even more without destroying the quality. the levels layer can actually help out a lot with this.

the amount to which i move each toggle differs per scene, and i think experimenting depending on your gif works best for this layer.

side note: i prefer not to use the ink droppers on the side because the contrast in the result usually ends up feeling too strong for my preferences, but if you find that this works better for you, then go for it! basically, the first dropper with the black ink should be clicked before you select the darkest part of the scene that you can find, and vice versa for the third dropper with the white ink — click it, and then select the brightest part of your scene.

curves is the next layer that does fantastic work! unlike the levels layer, i do actually use the ink droppers for this. it's the same concept, with the first dropper being used on the darkest part of the scene, and the third dropper on the brightest.

try to think of curves as something that not only further brightens your scene, but also helps with the colour neutralizing process.

i grab the first dropper, then click the darkest parts of the gif that i can see. depending on the undertone of the blacks that you're clicking on, the tint of your gif might actually change significantly. this is why i prefer to click once, then undo the action if i don't like what it gives me. izzy's leather jacket was the sweet spot for this gif.

when i'm satisfied, i make another curves layer and use the third dropper to click the bright/white parts of the scene. for this gif in particular, the lights in the background were a good fit because they carried a yellow undertone — this meant that my curves layer actually helped to further neutralize the yellows in the scene as a whole!

(i manually dragged the curves graph upwards for the third dropper to make it brighter. i don't need to do this if the dropper does this for me automatically, but since the lights were pretty bright, it only changed the tone of the scene and didn't increase the brightness — hence the manual step.)

pat yourself on the back, because this is what our gif looks like now!

this is good, but it's not great — there's still just a bit too much yellow in the scene for my liking (sorry, i'm picky! :P)

i created another channel mixer layer and played with the toggles until i was satisfied:

ta-da! the gif as a whole is much less red/yellow now:

this is when i start fixing the colouring now — namely, his skin tone. selective colour will be your best friend here. i wanted to make his face just a tad brighter and less of a yellow-ish magenta shade, so i focused on the reds and yellows.

then, out of habit, i created another selective colour layer and took out more of the "yellow" in the whites to make them whiter, and increased the black (just by +1, since the contrast is pretty good enough already).

note: i switched to "absolute" for these two colours. basically, relative = less vibrant colour manipulation, and absolute = more vibrant/stronger colour manipulation. i prefer to stick to "relative" for fixing skin-tone since "absolute" can be a bit too strong for that.

our gif looks like this now!

his face looks brighter and much less yellow, so i'm satisfied!

this next step is not mandatory at all — again, i'm just picky and despise yellow-tinted scenes. i personally believe that indoor scenes that are yellow/green tinted make them look more dark than they actually are, so i do my best to get rid of these colours.

i also don't always do this, but for this gif, i just simply went to hue/saturation, selected the yellows from the drop-down menu and decreased its saturation.

be careful not to do this too much. depending on the quality of your download, this can significantly decrease your gif quality. i tend to worry less about this when i'm working with 2160p files, but again, those files require an entirely different set of steps when it comes to brightening/colouring.

since this was a 1080p file download (and one that was actually less than 1GB, oops, don't do that), i played it safe and decreased it by -39 only.

note: you also want to be cautious of colour-washing skintone when it comes to this step. i find that another selective colour layer can help perfect the skintone in case the yellow drains out of it too much, but skip the hue/saturation step if it's too difficult to work with — better to be safe than sorry.

anyway, this is the final gif!

that's usually what i do when it comes to colouring dark indoor scenes! i hope this tutorial makes sense, and if you have any further questions, don't hesitate to reach out! :)

[smeddiemunson]

(part 1 here)

After they narrowly escape being fucked up by what Eddie had planned for them (a goblin ambush they were completely underprepared for), the Hellfire members took their sweet time in clearing up after themselves; an unspoken agreement between the older members to hang around long enough to see just how Eddie behaves around Steve.

Gareth didn’t think Dustin had figured it out. He just connected dots he doesn’t know are on the same playing board, Eddie’s mystery crush and Steve’s favourite song nothing more than a coincidence. Or at least Gareth hoped that’s how it’s playing out, he knew it took a lot, more than his posturing would ever imply, for Eddie to reveal his big secret to the band. He didn’t want Eddie to have to confront that again until he felt ready, even if it is just to some kids.

Jeff was kneeling on the floor, reaching under the table where he pretended to drop a bag of dice when Steve began to make his way down the stairs.

Over his shoulder he called out, “Thank you, Mrs Wheeler!”

Jeff didn’t see the way Eddie perked up just at the sound of his voice, but Gareth and Grant certainly did.

“Are you flirting with Mrs Wheeler again, Stevie?” Eddie teased, ignoring the way Mike retched and groaned about it being gross.

‘Stevie?’ Gareth mouthed to Grant, who just shrugged. Nicknames are a dime a dozen when Eddie decides he likes a person. Gareth had been Gare-Bear for as long as he’d known him, Jeff was Jeffy, and Grant got to be ad-Grant-age. Stevie was a bit different, Stevie was close, affectionate in a way that the nicknames that usually spilled from Eddie’s lips weren’t.

This was maybe worse than they thought.

The last crush Eddie had was there and gone almost in a blink of an eye. Connor from his home room who doodled stick figure drawings of their teachers to pass to Eddie every morning until the jocks got to him and Eddie was cast aside again. But for two precious weeks, Eddie was happy, nice, and didn’t freak when Grant snapped a guitar string that meant they couldn’t practise until he got his hands on a replacement.

This was wholly different. Steve didn’t even bat an eyelash at the affectionate tone, in fact, Gareth thought he saw a faint pinkness colour his cheeks; though he didn’t know if it was just the heat of the basement that did it.

“Convincing her you haven’t yet corrupted her children more like,” Steve laughed.

Jeff, who had now appeared from under the table, made a half aborted motion towards Mike that only Gareth and Grant could see from their side of the table. There was no question that Eddie had sunk his claws into Wheeler and the boy was fully corrupted. If they didn’t know better, they could’ve confused Mike for Eddie’s brother, the resemblance now so uncanny.

Eddie smiled. A real one that took up his whole face and made his eyes sparkle.

Definitely worse than they thought.

Steve turned to the kids. “Henderson, you’re with me. Byers you’re with Eddie. Sinclair, I trust you can walk next door without supervision?” He glanced at his watch while Lucas nodded as if this weren’t the first time he’d been questioned in such a way. “And we’ve got thirty minutes until curfew so get moving.”

The kids, naturally grumbled but they didn’t argue, which was yet another weird thing for the Corroded Coffin boys to experience. Those kids argued with everything.

“Oh hey, Ed, Argyle is getting in late Friday night so pool party at mine on Saturday. You in?” Steve dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, trying to act casual, as if he didn’t care about Eddie’s answer. But it was clear as day to Gareth, who didn’t even know him, that Steve really really cared.

Eddie’s face fell. “Sorry, band practice on Saturday. We’ve got a show coming up so…”

Gareth jumped in before he had to watch either of them start crying. “You can go after, Eddie. My mom’ll kill me if we spend all day in the garage anyway.”

Steve’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning.

Now Gareth couldn’t be certain, he wasn’t certain about anything in his life except for his love of Iron Maiden and the reality that he was never leaving Hawkins, but he was fairly sure Steve Harrington might just return Eddie’s feelings.

“Awesome! Hey, you guys should come too! It’s only gonna be a small thing: me, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and his friend Argyle.”

“Um, thanks, but—“ Jeff cut off in his refusal with a groan as Gareth and Grant not so subtly dug their elbows into his stomach.

They were going to have to spend more time in the orbit of Eddie-and-Steve if Gareth was going to be able to figure out if feelings were a two way street. He wasn’t super excited about the prospect of spending all afternoon playing nice with rich kids, but he’d done worse things for the sake of making Eddie happy. He could do this as well.

“We’d love to!” Grant filled in a little too excitedly. Gareth shot him a look that hopefully conveyed his need to calm down.

“Where do you live?”

Steve smiled. “Teddy knows, he’s been enough times. Oh and you’re welcome to crash after, if you want. There’s enough space.”

“Teddy,” Gareth echoed. They all knew about Eddie’s mom’s nickname for him. Eddie’s dead mom’s nickname for him, and the way he never wanted a reminder.

Steve laughed. “Yeah because he’s just so cuddle-able!”

Eddie, through clenched teeth and a bright red blush, hissed. “Shut up.”

Oh and his eyes pleaded with Gareth to let it go, that they wouldn’t talk about it later.

Clue 5. Eddie was completely aware of how smitten he was.

“We’ll be there, Harrington,” Gareth said, the finality on the matter that Jeff would be arguing with him about later.

Steve smiled so wide it was almost blinding. He left with a squeeze to Eddie’s shoulder, hand lingering longer than necessary, and Dustin moaning about why the kids hadn’t been invited to a pool party.

There were two things Gareth knew for sure. One: Eddie wasn’t just crushing on Steve Harrington, he was well on his way to being in love with him. Two: Steve was either just the chillest guy alive (unlikely) or he returned Eddie’s feelings.

Either way, Gareth had some meddling to do.

(part 3)

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x01

Aaaaaaannnnd we're back!!

OMG I cannot tell you how good it feels to be back writing costume meta - I have missed it so very much and this first episode has given me lots and lots to talk about so lets crack on with it shall we!

Where to start?! Firstly - Its amazing to have Alayna Bell-Price back in the driving seat and she is a genius because she knows the characters better than anyone and I have to say from my perspective there is a pretty clear difference between this episodes costumes and the ones from season 6 - not that s6's costumes were bad, just that you could see the shift of having a designer who didn't know the characters to the same level. I’m going to go in order of character appearance in a non uniform capacity for this one I think so we’re going to jump around from character to character a bit. There is no Maddie or Hen this week, as we don't see them out of uniform, but every one else is accounted for and I've included Norman and Lola as they've got a multi episode arc and their costumes are interesting and playing into a colour theme!

putting it below the cut as its a long post and I on't want to overtake everyones dashes! Enjoy!

We start off with Athena in this pale pink high neck ribbed sweater with large bell sleeves. I've spoken a fair amount about pale pink over the last couple of seasons of costume metas and how, in clothes its representative of childish and immature behaviours or thoughts. That holds true here - the pale pink is playing into Athena's childhood - when she developed her fear of cruise ships - its creating a connection between her childhood experiences and the woman sitting in Franks office.

We get a flashback that shows her in yellow and orange - the yellow for communication and the orange for transformation. A literal moment where we see Athena transform from the innocence of youth to her developing anxiety and fear around cruise ships. Its really clever visual storytelling connecting adult with child and shows us her fear is genuine and founded in something that she may not have been able to articualte fully as a child, but she can as an adult, even if she doesn't actually articulate it to Bobby.

Our next non uniform costume is Chimney. The lighting is really low in this scene, so it's kind of hard to be 100% sure of the colouring, but he seems to be wearing either a dark navy or black button up shirt under a dark green and black bomber jacket. The use of really dark green in combination with black, Back is a colour that can be about hiding ones vulnerabilities - concealment and masking, but it is also a colour associated with magic (generally dark magic) as well as pessimism. The green is growth and renewal, and the hope for a better future. to use them in combination i this way is playing on Chimneys insecurites and fears, his desire to keep the 'magic' alive in his relationship with Maddie, but it also speaks to his growth, that he goes home and talks to her about it (even if he does come up with an insane plan to 'date forever').

Eddie in the locker room - aside from being shirtless for much of it and pulling some epically good faces - was a super interesting costume choice. Especially the use of his watch! first though - Denim shirt time! We don't actually see Eddie in a denim shirt all that often and we've seen him in the super washed out one far more than dark denim shirts. I've been laughing a little bit at a few people (on twitter mostly) claiming its the same shirt he was wearing at the hospital during and after Bucks coma and it being a play on bringing Buck back to life. While I like the theory, its actually a very different shirt - the one in the hospital was black with a grey wash out and was made of velveteen - so different colour and fabric.

This shirt, is however one we have actually seen Eddie wear before and its far more telling than if it were the hospital shirt. You need to bear in mind that this scene is about Buck and Eddies respective girlfriends (or lack there of) and the fact that Christopher has a girlfriend now as well. This shirt is the same shirt Edie was wearing when he (re)introduced Ana to Chris in 4x08 (breaking point my beloved! the gift that keeps on giving!) and this puts a conversation about Marisol and things going well with her into the same category as Ana - suggesting she is ultimately destined for the same fate as Ana. the other thing that plays into this narrative is the use of the watch.

Eddie does not put the Christopher watch on until after he has found out that Buck has broken up with Natalia - so during the entire conversation about their respective girlfriends, he is only holding the Christopher watch, rather than wearing it.

In the picture below from 4x08 you can see that Eddie is wearing his black 'work' watch rather than the brown strapped 'Christopher' watch. Remember that the first time we see the Christopher watch is when he goes for his first date with Ana in Jinx, so he already has this watch and in theory should be wearing it in this scene. The fact he isn't is pretty telling and I'll go into that a bit more later when we get to Chris's (and Eddies) date scene.

Then we have Buck in his outfit of many colours! The white trainers, continue to play into my theory of Buck wearing them when he is in key points on his journey to discover his self - her it is about showing his growth - that he ended the relationship with Natalia - this is a massive thing when we saw how long it took for him to end things with Taylor - The man who clings is growing and getting out before it drags him down!

The jacket is similar in style to many of the ones we've seen him wearing in season 5 and 6, but this one is much brighter and more colourful. I know I go on about white meaning bad things for Buck, but that isn't relevant here - the white bad things happen to Buck theory is much more about t-shirts, jumpers and shirts rather than jackets - its an under-layer rather than a top layer that = danger. So i'm not thinking of its relevance here for this scene. What I am going to say is that this (according to my spreadsheet!) is the first time we've seen Buck in a white jacket of any description. To me, it's playing into the idea of purity and rebirth which is what white is often associated with. This plays into the comment Eddie makes welcoming Buck back to 'the land of the living' but also implies that Buck is starting a new chapter and making a fresh start - the check patterning suggests it might not all be plain sailing though.

The check pattern is an interesting one, obviously check pattern theory comes into play here, but whether its only in relation to the reveal that he split with Natalia, or if its also foreshadowing Buck getting himself into danger/trouble down the line, remains to be seen.

I'm going to quote myself again because I did predict that this scene may be about his relationship with Natalia when we got the stills dropped - the costume department never let us down!

The only thing I can do is scream into the void about check theory because check does't bode well for people - they always end up in the middle of the drama (see my check theory posts linked on my pinned post for more) and while they come out the other side (99% of the time) Buck in check for that scene in 6x18 pretty much doomed his relationship with Natalia (its specific to her and not C&K's baby as Buck wasn't wearing it when he delivered it!) and as that shirt in the still is very un Buck like, has not only yellow ochre in it, but also its a white base (and we all know buck in white is a bad sign!!) and its check patterned - my theory is that this scene is connected to Natalia in some way - either Buck is not being true to him self in more than one way - that things are going to/have come to a head for their relationship (my kingdom for a reverse of Buck to Eddie about Ana in 5x03!!!) and lead to a pretty big change in some way (fingers crossed for Buck to end it and then finally break down and deal with his trauma!!!) Some other things about that shirt - the colour combination - the green blue and yellow ochre are giving me call backs to coma Buck (another reason I think it might be connected to Bucks unresolved trauma around his death and Eddies absense in his dream)

In the quote above, I was also referring to the blue and white check pattern shirt he was wearing when he and Natalia got together, but there was also the fact that in the balcony scene at the end of 6x18, we also saw her in one of Bucks white shirts. I wrote in my 6x18 meta about how those two things combined didn't bode well for that relationship going forward, and thats what leaves me unsure about the check pattern on this white jacket being purely about something that has already happened. If I put my Buddie goggles on, I would perhaps suggest that the troubled times ahead may be more connected to Buck and Eddies relationship, and this would fit in with a couple of the things Oliver and Ryan have said. The thing with check theory though, is that generally speaking if it's on one of the mains, they come out the other side of the dram/trauma stronger than before. So if it is connected to Buck and Eddies relationship, then we can expect it to be in an even stronger position on the other side of whatever goes down (and at this point you can't strengthen their relationship any further and keep them as just friends imo!)

Chimneys forever dating proposal to Maddie, connects with his outfit when he's talking to Hen - it's the same jeans and black shirt, so the meanings of black, can be continued on into this scene - the idea of magic and hiding his vulnerabilities. The addition of the jacket with this brickwork pattern in its weave is a fun choice, it's playing into the idea of building something, but also plays into the idea that Chimney has his walls up - again fitting in with the black meaning of hiding his vulnerabilities - because instead of expressing his fears to Maddie ad then them talking it thorough, he comes up with his insane forever dating concept. the fact that much of this scene is a contrasting parallel with the scene from season 1 when he is pretending to be someone else entirely for Tatiana all ties in perfectly with this costume. The fact that he reverts to wearing blue (ran out of picture spaces so I couldn't include one) later on - when he's realised his plan isn't realistic, talks to Maddie and they end up back on the same page is really good to see - the blue being a signature Chimney colour and is indicative of him being true to himself.

Bobbys blue suit and blue check patterned shirt. The brightness of the blue is a really important choice - it's the only time we see him this brightly coloured on the cruise until he ends up in the bright red at the end. This is important because this is the moment when he's still all excited and hopeful for his honeymoon cruise - everything is good in Bobby's world at this moment in time - the check pattern is telling us that it's not going to stay that way for long. From her on out we see the colours of Bobby's costumes slowly beginning to dull and take on a washed out tone, but here in this moment all is good.

Athena's bright yellow dress is all about making her stand out - communicating with the audience, she is the brightest person in the room (in more ways than one!!). The thing with yellow, apart from the communication aspect, is that it can also be a symbol of anxiety and fear, so this dress plays rather nicely into the theme of Athenas fear of being on that ship.

The colour does have other good traits too - its fresh and bright and is a colour of happiness in its more jewel like tones and I think we can see all of these meanings in these scenes - Athena might be anxious about being on the ship, but she is also happy and enjoying herself with Bobby in that moment.

Lola and Norman. Lola is the one we need to focus on in her very bright very check patterned Victoria Beckham dress. Obviously the check pattern plays into check pattern theory, but the red also acts like a neon sign to the audience - highlighting that Lola is in danger - the ga won't pick up on check theory, although they might connect the dots about the fact this check patterning looks very like a cage - foreshadowing her being held captive later on, but also as a nod to the fact she was incarcerated previously.

The red is also a nod towards romance and love - playing into the rekindling of their relationship and romance in the aftermath of the freeway 'see me Norman' incident.

Ok so Christophers date night and by extension Eddies date night! This is where this meta is goingto get a bit messy and I'm goingto jump around a bit becasue I need to talk about the way colour theory is at play in all the scenes in Christophers bedroom, so we're going to talk about Christophers bedroom as one big thing rather than the two separate scenes that it actually is. They are extensions of one another and build on so much of the groundwork we've already seen in previous seasons.

Chris in plaid check yellow and red check plays perfectly into check pattern theory - it’s a signifier that something is about to go down with him - namely that the fact he’s dating multiple girls at the same time. 

He’s also wearing a white shirt which is not a colour we see on him all that often - in fact, the only times we’ve seen him in a completely white shirt is with his suit in 5x01 when suit shopping and again in 6x08 for his school dance. He did wear a white vest when dressed as wolverine for halloween  So as you can see its not a common colour for him, but the times have seen him wear it as a solid colour have been connected to school/girls and dating (i’m including the suit shopping in this because Ana was there and it was kind of a Eddie and Ana date of sorts - in that it was suppose to be for this Christening - meet the family - date type thing).

The most interesting thing is the plaid hooded shirt though. It was such an interesting choice to go with for a couple of reasons. the colour way is especially loud - we tend to see Chris wearing greens and blues and greys, with the odd other colour thrown in occasionally. So red and yellow are not common colours for him to be wearing.

On the red front we see him in it a couple of times - the adapted skateboarding scene and the scene in 4x10 when he joins Eddie and Ana on the sofa - getting in the way of their date night. We do also see him wear red in Christmas related episodes (so I don’t tend to count them in the same way as the Christmas colour theming will nearly always override any other colour theming intention - the use of stripes or check or other patterning is more important in those episodes!). 

On the yellow front things are even more clear cut - the Tsunami arc, the aftermath of him falling off the skateboard, Mays graduation party and 5x03’s Eddie Ana break up! These (apart from the tsunami shirt) were all bright almost neon yellow.

This new plaid shirt is more into the yellow ochre part of the yellow spectrum, therefore tying much more to the tsunami arc, which is actually really fitting if you think about it in a little more detail - its a connection, not only to Buck, but also to loss and grief. Eddie might have been using his secret weapon (Chris) to get Buck out of his moping (read mourning) over not being able to go back to work, but Christopher is also still grieving the loss of his mother at that point as well, so its not just about cheering Buck up, its also about giving Chris a chance to do something fun and distract him from his own grief. That is why the use of yellow then ties in so nicely with its use on Chris now.

The other thing that really grabbed my attention about this shirt though is the fact that the two times we’ve seen Buck have a conversation with Chris in his bedroom, he has sat in the same spot and has been wearing one of those two colours - post shooting in maroon and this episode in the yellow ochre - if you watch those two scenes side by side, you see that they’ve used almost identical camera angles as well to film Buck.

I've spoken a lot about the use of maroon as a colour connected to parenthood - especially fatherhood , which is how its intended to be read on Buck - connecting to Eddie and his being shot, pushing Buck into a parental role in Eddies absence.

That alone is a pretty loud reference to Christophers connection and relationship to Buck, but then we have the yellow ochre of it all.

I feel a little bit insane about how close my prediction was on what the Buck Christopher scene was going to be about - this is from the meta I wrote when t he stills dropped;

Whatever this scene transpires being about, based on what we've seen with Buck wearing yellow ochre, we can assume its going to continue to play into this idea of Buck not being fully truthful with people and fitting into the role he thinks people want him to pay rather than being true to himself. I do want to add to this theory by looking at Christophers shirt as well. The grey/ yellow combination is a bit reminiscent of Breaking point (the episode that really is the gift that keeps on giving) because we get Chris in grey and Eddie in tan - that is yellowish toned whilst not actually being yellow There isn't a good screenshot of them together, but the placing of Chris and Buck in the new one has echoes of Eddie and Chris in that scene (one that is interestingly enough playing into the idea of changing family dynamics, but also the moment before and the one that happens afterwards at Bucks loft, directly placing Buck into a parental role (as an aside the idea of Buck being a miracle worker plays into the theme of Eddie looking for magic, just saying!))

Indirectly this scene was about Buck not being true to himself with people and fitting into whatever role he thinks people want him to fit into, only this wasn't an active situation - this was a scene where Buck could draw on his experience of having done that in the past to help Christopher - the line from Eddie 'you didn't end up being like you' is such a call to this and actually shows how valuable Bucks own experiences and learnings are in helping Chris (we've all been joking about Eddie choosing Buck to help him with this Chris's issue, but in actual fact he was the perfect person for the job - not just because of his being a 'reformed player', but also because of his relationship with death and the death of a loved one where you are reliant on others for their memories of a person rather than having your own)

The thing with the Yellow ochre (this meta here that i've already quoted from above is the place to go if you'd like more detail on its use on Buck more widely) isn't just its about it's connection to Buck, his place in Christopher's life and more loosely to the will of it all, (the fact that Buck and Eddie are both wearing the same colour ways as in the hospital bed will reveal scene and are both on the same sides of the screen in both scenes is a stroke of genius and is meant to connect these two scenes together) its also its connection to Shannon.

The first time we meet Shannon, she sits on Christophers bed in more or less the same position as we see Buck and Eddie sit, and looks at where Christopher has been positioned in all these conversations, and she is wearing a burnt orange top thats pretty close to the dark yellow ochre we see Buck wearing. Shannon wears a lot of yellow - as in it there are only a couple of times we don't see her wearing something yellow or with yellow in it and those are key scenes (which I will talk about later on).

Shannons appearance in Christophers room to read the letter she wrote him had her in this black top with a floral patterning on it. She was also wearing green trousers (which can be seen in the still below but aren't actually seen during the scene.

I actually really loved the green trousers and black top as a choice because the top is very Shannon - it sits perfectly with the floral patterns we saw her wearing when she was still alive. The green trousers are a bit of a departure for her, but I think its very intentional for two reasons .

The first is that they are very much in the Eddie trousers wheelhouse, especially in combination with black - he wears green khaki trousers a lot. The inference being that the black and green combination is an echo of Eddie.

The second ties to Christopher. Green is also a colour we've seen on Christopher a lot, it's probably the colour we see him in most. It's being used as a reflection of the fact he is growing and transitioning from child to teenager. But having it here in this scene - on Shannon connects a Christopher growing up without his mom.

Both of these combined really connect into Shannon in this scene, tying the three of them together and on Eddies efforts to keep her alive for Christopher - the underlying implication that his growth into who he is so far is as much to do with Shannon as it is to do with Eddie.

Her necklaces were not identical to the ones we saw her in in season 2, but that's most likely because they don't have them any longer, so they've replicated them as best as they can. The other little nod that I enjoyed is the brown bracelets on her right wrist - the same place Eddie wears his brown strapped Christopher watch!

But the top they have her in plays into a couple of other things - the prominent yellow flowers make an obvious connection to Buck from the previous scene, but they also tie into the 'I want a divorce' scene from 2x17 where she is wearing a dark blue dress with bright yellow ochre flowers all over it. the dress is not especially close to the top in the wider sense - blue dress with white squares v black top with florals in a variety of colours, but the yellow flowers are the prominent aspect of both items of clothing and play into the yellow theme connected to Shannon and then to Buck.

This is espeically relevant when you remember that Eddie is in a black suit in that scene and he's wearing black when he gives the letter to Christopher.

The black for this sequence of scenes is such a poignant choice - its Eddie mourning all over again, not for his loss, but for Christophers loss. I did find it telling that again in this scene, we have the absence of the Christopher watch. Eddie has very rarely not been wearing a watch in his scenes, so the times when we don't see him wearing one are very telling.

For me, in this sequence of scenes, it's about the fact that they are not about Eddies relationship with Christopher, but about Shannons relationship with Christopher. The watch is much more about Eddie and Christopher, so to have it absent from this story arc makes total sense and is symbolic of Eddie being a good father

Then we have Christophers grey shirt - I said when we first got the stills from that scene, how it was likely to be connected to complex family relationships - a la when we’ve seen Buck wearing his grey shirt. And what do you know - the scene was about complex family dynamics/ relationships.

It wasn’t perhaps in the manner I was expecting, but that series of scenes played with the full scope of Chris’s complex family relationships - from the relationship he has with Buck -not only as Christophers friend, but also as more or less Eddies co-parent (the way Eddie asked for Bucks help screamed co-parent rather than friend imo - that whole burnt out car scene was two co-parents discussing their child!) to the relationship he has with his dad - which is a pretty great relationship, but it is a complex one.

The relationship he has with his mom - or the fact he feels he doesn’t have a relationship with her despite Eddies best efforts, because as he grows up she feels further and further away. 

Eddies 'date' night with Marisol. Again I ran out of pictures (30 is not enough!) so you're going to have to use your imagination or go back and rewatch the scene for yourselves, but trust me when I say that Eddie is wearing the same shirt he was wearing for this date night as he was in 4x10 - when Christopher interrupts because he can't sleep!

It's also a similar tee to the one Eddie wears when he has his breakdown and trashes his room (that one was more green when this one is much browner). Its slouchy and has cut and stretched raw edges at the sleeves and on the pocket - in the same way his breakdown shirt did. there is an element of being in familiar surroundings and being comfortable at home, but stretched out raw edges and Eddie generally tend to mean not so great things.

Of course there is the element of his parenting skills being tested by Christophers having more than one girlfriend, but if that where the only reason, then it would've made more sense to have him in that shirt when he's listening in to Chris talking to Buck, rather than when he's on a date with a new girlfriend.

This is especially true as the screen time for that tee has more connection with Marisol than it does with Chris. Combined with the fact that once again, like in the locker room scene, he is not wearing his Christopher watch in this scene and that speaks volumes.

If we are to read the scene as being about Christopher soley, he should be wearing his watch because that watch is a physical embodiment of the importance of Christopher in Eddies life - that he puts Christopher first in all things.

Got to say I was a bit shocked to see Marisol in his bright magenta silk spaghetti strap top when you consider the costumes we saw her in last season - mostly dressed down, t-shirts, jumpers and dungarees so this is a complete 180 for her character.

There are a few interesting things connected to her outfit, firstly it low key ties into Natalia - we saw Natalia in a red version of this top for her first proper onscreen date with Buck (when they go to the badge and ladder joint) so there is an interesting low key parallel to draw there. There is also the fact that her bracelet is a chain one - much like we've seen on all of Buck and Eddies previous girlfriends - although those have been necklaces, so I'm undecided if this chain bracelet is paying into the same trope as those.

Then there is the pink of it all.

You see Eddie and Pink on his girlfriends doesn't bode well for Marisol.

Both Shannon and Ana wore pink. Ana wore it a lot - there are two examples below, but generally speaking its her most commonly worn colour - including on her first date with Eddie in Jinx.

The first example below is from the first time we see her in the Diaz house. the shades are different, but the fact that the first time we see both characters in the Diaz house they're both wearing pink, speaks volumes.

The other key use of Pink is when Shannon is at the beach with Eddie and Christopher and she tells Eddie she's pregnant - Eddie takes it as the sign he has been looking for - the chance to effectively start over with their marriage, but this is the beginning of the end for their relationship, even if she hadn't died a short while later. She is wearing pale pink in that scene and it's the only time we see her wear the colour in the show.

The fact we can also contrast the use of pink with when Buck wears it is telling in its own right - we see the relationship between Buck and Eddie strengthening when Buck wears pink - May's graduation party, the tsunami, the Hildy coffee machine - all moments (big and small) that show the development of various aspects of their relationship and its ability to endure.

Essentially all this use of pink on the women he has had previous relationships with, doesn't bode well for Marisol and the longevity of her relationship with Eddie. How quickly it will end I can't say, just that it will end.

I spoke earlier in this post about colour theming for the episode and this is where I talk about it!

Pink - and in particular the very bright pinks we saw scattered across the episode. Marisol above wearing it, isn't just about connecting her to Ana in costume terms (especially as at this point that costume is a departure of her costumes from s6) it also connects her to the other characters we see wearing bright pink in this episode - Lola and Norman.

At this point in time I'm not sure if we're going to see it play out as a theme across the season, but its use in this episode was very loud on characters that are going to be around for more than 1 episode. It suggests that there is some underlying theme that connects them (by this I don't mean that they're gonna meet and hang out I mean that personality traits are going to be similar)

Magenta and bright pink in colour theory means a few different things, and like with all colours, has positive and negative traits. Generally speaking its a loud and brash colour thats designed to stand out and draw attention to it's wearer.

Things that are considered positive traits for this shade of pink are; intensity, acceptance, kindness and it's supportive and uplifting nature. It's connected to naive love (as in lust rather than the passionate and enduring love of red) can also be considered a nurturing colour.

Negative traits are; intensity, volatility, arrogant and impatient, irritability and irritating and frustration. it is also said to be a stress inducing colour and is said to be overly emotional.

Theres a clear and fairly loud connection between Lola and Norman getting into danger - Lola is in magenta trousers when she is kidnaped. Norman also has bright magenta flowers on his shirt at this point as well. My guess at this point is that we're supposed to lean into the stress inducing element, and also the irritating nature of the colour (On Athenas part at the very least!) and we'll see if those are the themes that play out for Marisol as well down the line.

Norman is in bright pink when he's lying and claiming she's unwell from being outside or too long. We also see that he is wearing pink in the ditsy print shirt later on (again I ran out of picture spaces!)

Athena's black top in this scene is much like the use of Chimney in black in his scenes. It's all about power and authority but it's also about her hiding her vulnerabilities. The other thing it does is creates a huge contrast with Bobby and all of the other passengers - she is the only one in black in the scene and it contrasts her with the underlying white of Bobbys shirt - juxtaposing them and visually putting them at odd with one another.

Like I said above about him becoming increasingly pale - here we see Bobby in a sea-foam green shirt - its the palest and washed out colour we've seen him in on this cruise (grey pyjama shirt not being included as its blink and you miss it and a pyjama tee!!!). Sea-foam green doesn't really play into the traditional meanings of green - there is still the element of renewal about it (the sea washes the sand etc)but its mostly a self-conscious and uncertain colour - both things that perfectly sum up how Bobby is feeling in this moment.

The other fun thing about this outfit is the palm tree shorts the patterns Bobby has worn in relation to this cruise, up to this point (and that includes the shirts from season 6) have all been tropical themed but on his shirts, the fact that they've now slipped down onto his shorts is a visual representation of him becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the way his honeymoon is going - that the tropical vacation vibes are slipping away.

Athenas red and white shirt, in my opinion is showing her cross purposes - its the duality of investigating and being on a cruise in a shirt. The bright red ties into the red and blue first responder colour way the show uses (for obvious reasons) while the white and the palm fronds, the lei flowers and the watery theming of the pattern fit into the troipical cruise they're on.

Bobbys red shirt contrasts with the lavender that we see on Athena - its not a colour we see on Bobby all that often and that makes its use all the more important. Especially considering the entire cruise thus far we've seen him in blues and greens - especially pale closer to pastel tones.

This red is bright snd bold and unlike his usual choices. Red is a colour of cross meaning - there is obviously the connection with love and the heart, which is absolutely at play her - his love for Athena is spurring him on and is part of what is pushing him in to investigator Bobby mode - and its representation of love is what is going to be the key player in the up coming episodes on the ship - when he is looking for Athena during the evacuation etc. But the other meaning of red is war, courage and anger and that is very much present here in this episode, and will (i'm assuming) be later on in 7x02 and 3.

The other thing I think its worth pointing out at this point (which is pure conjecture on my part at this moment in time but that I think will become relevant in the next two episodes rather than this one) is the foreshadowed parallel with Buck in season 5 when he broke down Eddies door. The bright red we saw him wearing then was an uncommon colour for him, in the same way it is for Bobby here. It's paralleling the way Buck was prepared to go into battle for Eddie, with the way Bobby is prepared to do so for Athena - going to war for your closest person, your loved one and doing what you need to do to save them.

Putting Athena in lavender the moment she gets to go into cop mode was a choice that had me giggling! Lavender is a colour of relaxation and order so for her to start wearing it the moment she gets to start being a cop again - speaks volumes for her state of being - it shows that her fear of being on the cruise ship and of being alone with bobby, has been overridden by her need to do her job and start investigating things. Its the perfect colour for this moment and for the impeding trouble brewing on the ship - Athena will bring order to things as order has been restored to her inner world.

Hopefully you've enjoyed this little canter through the costumes of 7x01 we're back in business and I can't wait to read your comments in the tags and comments 🥰

Tagging for those who've asked to be tagged - drop me a comment on this post if you'd like to be added to the list for the next meta 😎

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mandzuking17 @spotsandsocks @loveyou2thecore @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @nathleigh @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @inandoutoffocus @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @lemotmo @bi-moonlight @satvojihusana @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @mongreloer @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud

[bedoballoons]

AFTER SEEİNG THE MİTSURİ READER ONE I HAD TO ASK FOR THİS

So hear me out

On a reader like shinobu, i mean like her intelligence and teasing ykyk

W genshin bois

(especially tighnari if you write for our fox boy 🤭🤭)

I love fox boy!!! I hope you enjoy! <3 Also incredibly sorry anon if you sent this a long time ago!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Shinobu Kocho like reader!~༺}

CW: Fluffy! Reader calls Lyney dearest and he calls them ma chérie! A little bit of teasing! Technically this is a part 2!

(Includes: Lyney, Gorou, Tighnari, and Scaramouche!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You looked up at Lyney, watching with intrigue as a blue winged butterfly landed gracefully on the top of his hat, it's presence entirely unknown to him as he continued to walk beside you, making the situation that much sweeter. For a second you thought about letting him know, but then a idea started to formulate...perhaps you could tease him a little, get him back for all the teasing he had done. "Lyney dearest, you might want to clean your hat, I swear I saw something move amongst all that dust."

He stopped mid step, raising one of his eyebrows at you in curiosity and you could only chuckle in response, watching the butterfly on his hat open and close its wings peacefully without a care in the world. "My hats never dirty, ma chérie how could you say something so cruel." Lyney pretended to act offended, deciding to play along in your little game and you couldn't be happier. "I think you might want to check again... your hat certainly isn't free of live creatures.." You giggled cheerfully as his face went pale, uncertainty in his eyes as he lifted his hat of his head slowly.

The second he saw what you were talking about he couldn't help but laugh, a blush of embarrassment coating his cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lip, the two of you watching as the butterfly flew away.

𑁍༄Gorou:

You looked at the bottles in front of you, examining their multi coloured exteriors that concealed the various deadly poisons you'd created, each one perfected and ready for you if you ever needed them. To anyone else, this collection would seem terrifying, but in your eyes it was a wall of achievements, of trails and tribulations....and only one other person seemed to understand, his support enough to keep you experimenting even when everyone else acted like you were insane.

"Whatcha working on now?" Gorou appeared next to you, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy, a big happy smile on his face that was one hundred percent contagious, forcing you to smile along with him. "Actually I'm not working on anything currently, just spacing out until you got home. Did everything go well with Miss Kokomi?" You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder and absorbing his warmth, his tail wagging slightly with joy at your cuddles.

"Mhm! Her excellency has everything prepared for the trip to Inazuma city...and I'm hoping you'll join us..." He pulled away so he could look at you, his eyes wide and pleading, begging you to come with him so he wouldn't have to be away from you for such a long time,...how could you say no? "Alright alright...calm down doggy, I'd love to go with you." You placed a kiss on his cheek, watching in delight as he blushed lightly and hugged you in response, clearly excited to take a trip with you.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari was more than impressed by you, in fact awestruck seemed like a better word to describe his current state of being. He'd never met someone like you before, absolutely beautiful in every way, with butterflies as your source of inspiration when it came to clothing and your intelligence when it came to alchemy absolutely blew him away, not to mention you seemed to know a few things about being a doctor too!

It seemed like you had him wrapped around your finger, to the point he found himself thinking about you in his spare time and wondering what you could be up to, just like he was now. His heart tempting him to go find you and ask if you'd like to go out for lunch, or maybe have dinner together, but he also felt nervous...would you catch onto his feelings?

"Tighnari? You alright?" Your voice knocked him right out of his thoughts, disbelief taking over his features at the realisation that you'd snuck up on him...how has he not noticed you? "Yes Im alright. Sorry I was...thinking about something. What're you up to?" His eyes met yours, sending warmth to his cheeks and making his heart race, he hoped you wouldn't notice the change in his mannerisms..."I noticed you sitting here spacing out and I figured maybe you'd like some company, wanna go grab a bite to eat? We can talk about the new medicines you've been working on. I figured out a alternative for capsules!"

He smiled happily, his tail wagging with excitement as he nodded, his little crush growing with every moment he spent with you...to the point of no return.

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

You narrowed your eyes, your attention trained solely on Scaramouche, his usual smirk replaced with pure focus and neither of you moving a muscle, the stakes were high this time and you weren't going to go down without a fight. You could feel victory was on its way though, the match of true champions coming to a end as the seconds ticked by...and then it happened.

"You blinked Scara!" You jumped up from your seat at the table, cheering happily and feeling quite proud of yourself for besting such a high ranking harbinger, proving power wasn't enough to win everything. "I did not! I say we have a rematch, clearly you weren't paying good enough attention! Worthless being!" Scaramouche stood up too, his cheeks red with anger and slight embarrassment, he knew full well he had lost fair and square, but he couldn't just let you win that easily!

"Nope absolutely not. I won and that means your power isn't as strong as my intelligence, remember that was the deal." Your crossed your arms, smirking at him playfully as he tried to come up with some other excuse or reason to play again. When he didn't respond after a few moments you started to wonder if you'd gone to far...only to be proven entirely wrong, "Fine...my turn then...if I win you have to give me a kiss..." a devious look flicked across his features and it made a shiver run up your spine.

"Alright what is it?"

"Let's play the game of whoever is taller wins."

"Hey!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

congrats on 2222!! soulmate au with frankie would be so cute. I love frankie sm he’s just the cutest 😍

Hi lovely! Thank you for this prompt. I was a bit apprehensive because I've read one (1) soulmate AU in my entire life and wasn't sure if I could do it justice. But obviously, Frankie takes this by the ears and I just had the best time writing it. This is also a college AU because apparently I love AUs set with Pedro boys in college 🤷🏻‍♀️

This drabble is actually an AU of an upcoming fic I have in the works, called Summer House (with a lot less angst and pain). I hope you like it sweet anon!

Frankie Morales x soulmates AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1346 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, college AU, inexperienced reader, drinking games, friends to soulmates

Sometimes, you wonder what colour Frankie’s eyes are.

It’s not something you wonder about often, not when everyone has grey eyes - but not really. One day, when you kiss your soulmate for the first time, you will see their eye colour, and they will see yours.

So you definitely don’t have any business wondering anything of the kind about Frankie at all, seeing that you two do not get along. Never have, probably never will, despite having been in the same close knit group since you were kids. Benny has long played the second to your principal in your duels with Frankie, while Santi is his, with Will keeping the peace whenever you get into a particularly thorny disagreement.

But that’s the funny thing about friendship. Despite your bickering, you got his back, and you know he has yours.

You’ve heard about it once or twice through the grapevine in high school, but finding one’s soulmate seems to be a dime a dozen in college, with happy news dropping left, right and centre throughout the academic year.

While you’re not in a hurry to find your fated other half, you start thinking that you should at least get started with the kissing part. You’re way behind your friends and peers on that front, somehow missing out on the formative experience despite being a regular fixture at house parties at high school, then sorority parties in your freshman year in college.

You really should blame the boys. No one wants to risk messing with a girl who has three hulking seniors and one equally hulking sophomore at her beck and call, not when there are far easier options around.

But you know it’s not just that, and you’ll only admit it when you're drunkenly tucking yourself into bed, alone yet again after another party. It feels like you’re the only person your age who’s still (stupidly) holding onto the hope that your first kiss can be something, not just a sloppy makeout session with too much tongue and too little meaning.

And so you find yourself, still never been kissed, when summer rolls around at the end of your first year at college. Your gang of five is about to shrink to just you and Benny, with the rest of the boys enlisting after they graduate, and the impending farewell upsets you more than you care to show.

The five of you spend the first week together at the Millers’ summer house after school lets out, as has been tradition since you were kids - with your parents when you were younger, but it’s been just kids for the last few years.

Well, just the kids plus one, since Frankie always brings a girlfriend. Unfailingly, it's someone beautiful with perfect hair who has a wandering eye for the other boys, and hates your guts for being the only girl in the group.

On the last night, the guys invite a select crowd over for one final hurrah before they go home and get ready to ship out to basic training the following week. Music is booming, cheap beer is flowing, and you’re all in the garden, the sticky Floridian heat clinging to you like a second skin.

Ironically, it’s Frankie’s girlfriend who wants to play spin the bottle. He sits opposite you, his Standard Oil cap pulled over his eyes but failing to hide his annoyance at being forced to participate. You roll your eyes at him across the circle, and he gives you a middle finger back.

Will, the self-appointed gamesmaster, spins the bottle set on a pizza box atop the lawn.

It spins, and spins, and spins - until it doesn’t.

You look on in sheer horror when the bottle stutters to a stop squarely before you, the other end pointing at Frankie, who turns green with nausea.

‘FUCK NO!’

You attempt to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Santi, who practically hauls you by the waist back to the circle as you kick and scream.

Frankie, on the other hand, has to be restrained by both Miller brothers.

‘I have a girlfriend!’ he shouts, digging the heels of his beat-up sneakers into the grass.

She doesn’t seem to mind though, clapping gleefully along with everyone else, chanting, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’

Shoved toe to toe in the middle of the circle under watchful eyes, you exchange vicious glares. Frankie’s broad shoulders are hunched over defensively, arms crossed. It’s strange, you’ve known him forever, but this is probably physically the closest you’ve ever been to each other without being locked in a fist fight.

Warmth bounces off his tightly wound up frame as he towers over you, and by some folly, you feel an inexplicable pull.

You fight the staggering want to bury your nose in that grey tshirt (the one he wears Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and restocks at Old Navy when it wears too thin), to swipe that hat off his head to brush the curls from his face, to look into his eyes - and see what colour they are.

In the end, Frankie breaks first - you’re not sure if it’s the jeering and goading from the crowd or your stubborn standoff that makes him snap. Grabbing you by the elbow, he hauls you firmly into his chest before you can react.

You should be embarrassed, mortified that this is how you’re going to end up losing your first kiss. And yet, losing doesn't seem like the right word.

There’s a deep-seated calmness inside you, knowing that it’s going to be Frankie. The boy you’ve known since you were three, the teenager who used to make you cry with stupid juvenile pranks, and the man now who wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch if anyone even looks at you the wrong way.

As soon as the tip of his proud nose brushes yours, your eyes slide shut of their own accord - and he kisses you.

God, his lips are so soft. Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees wobble so dangerously that your fingers twist into the front of his tshirt, holding on for dear life.

Can he tell that you don’t know how to kiss, at all? Does he think you’re terrible? The fact that this feels so fucking perfect despite having no idea what you’re doing sets you on edge, a magnifying glass trained on your inexperience in a way that makes you stiffen with nerves and awkwardness. 

He must be appalled at how bad you are, especially after the litany of gorgeous, more experienced girls he’s been with over the years. You can’t believe you’re subjecting him to this, how would he ever look you in the eye afterwards -

But then, something shifts when his hands find your waist, palms easily spanning the small of your back as he pulls back for air, but only just, still so close that you can feel the tickle of his beard on your chin. There’s an unmistakable hitch in his breath, a tremour as he exhales, which in turns makes you tremble and switches off the unwelcome commentary in your head.

It’s as if he wants you.

Before you can think too hard, Frankie leans in and kisses you again, harder this time, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, and heat chases down your spine like a meteor. He sucks on your bottom lip when it falls open in a gasp, dipping between your lips with a clever swipe of his tongue against yours that makes you shudder and whimper, which he swallows with a possessive growl.

Your lungs are burning when he draws back, his nose still touching yours.

Then he calls your name.

You blink as your eyes open -

Frankie’s staring at you, lips parted, his gaze reverential. Like he’s never seen you before. Reaching up, he takes your face in his hands, calloused palms on your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the tears that won’t stop. You break into a watery grin, which he mirrors, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest, holding you close as everything falls into place -

Frankie’s eyes are brown.

Note: In case it's not clear, in this fic, everyone’s eyes appear grey. You can only see your soulmate's eye colour after you kiss them for the first time.

[justmeinatree]

Just A Little Taste

Summary : harry plays into your pain kink in a way you never could have imagined (feat. lhh)

TW : smut, reader pain kink, dom/sub dynamics, safe word use

Word Count : 2.1k

the handcuffs clink against the metal head board to your bed, harry’s nails scratching down the backside of your naked thighs.

your hands were currently cuffed together, the chain on the handcuffs looped through one of the intricate iron bars that adorned your bed. your head was pressed into the mattress, arms stretched above it, your bum high in the air.

you loved nights like this. where you could both just play. there was no time constraint, which meant harry took his sweet time with you. on nights like these, you’d both slip further into your roles, allowing yourselves to really let go and be all in. 

there was no denying it, you were fairly submissive long before you’d ever met harry. but you never had the opportunity to connect with a partner that was considered even remotely dominant. you’d never been with someone that had the experience harry had, and all the new firsts your body had just been patiently waiting for, made your toes curl.

and well harry did not complain, could barely keep his cock in his pants, when you looked at him with those doe eyes. he saw the need in you from a mile away. so when you two hooked up that night, he gave you a small taste of what he could do for you. always checking in for consent along the way. you had never been so blown away by a man in your entire life.

and so safe. especially the time he explained that even though he’s in the dominant role, you, the submissive, holds all the power. you’re the one that sets the scene. you’re the one that holds the safe word card. he gets pleasure out of your pleasure. the moment it stops being good for you, it stops being good for him. you’d never been so reassured by a partner in your entire life. and as someone with a pain kink, reassured is what you needed.

so that brings you here. with harry’s nails slowly raking up and down your thighs, your bum, your back. all the way up your arms, giving himself the opportunity to kiss against your ear and neck, sucking little bruises into your skin. your body shudders as his hair tickles along your skin, making harry nip playfully on your shoulder, “should i tie it up ?” he hums quietly, not wanting to disrupt the quiet moment you’re both basking in.

you manage a bit of a shrug, as best as you can in the position you’re in, “s’up to you. just tickles a bit.”

harry leans back into his kneeled position behind you, nails raking down your back as he goes to grasp the hair tie around his wrist. holding it up with two fingers, he gets an idea, gently letting it snap back against his skin. 

he hums quietly to himself, pulling the hair tie off his body and holds it taught between his index and his thumb. “do you trust me, poppet ?” harry asks quietly.

“always,” you hum without a second thought as harry places the tie against the back of your thigh, right where it meets your ass. he pulls on it, not too far, as he’s just testing your reaction, and lets it snap back against your skin.

your body jolts instantly, eyebrows furrowing as you groan, “fuck, what is that ?”

“a hair tie,” harry mumbles, mesmerized by the way your skin rippled as the tie kissed your skin. “colour, baby.”

“green, try that again. harder,” you hum, settling yourself deeper into the bed. you had loved the little jolt it sent through you, the way it made your toes curl and your breath drain itself from your lungs.

harry moves his hand with the tie up your body, right to the swell of your ass. he pulls the band up quite a bit higher than last time, watching the jiggle of your skin as the tie slaps against your bum. 

you moan out louder this time, your back arching, as your pussy clenches over nothing. without another second to breathe, harry snaps the tie again 3 more times right around the same spot.

you gasp in a breath as his left hand comes to smooth over the spot, his tongue reaching out to lick at the bright red bruise forming on your skin. “colour ?”

“green, green, fuck harry, why’s a hair tie so good ?” you groan, slightly embarrassed by how much the sting is getting you off.

and if you needed a moment to fall in love with him just that little bit more, his reply holding no hint of shame towards you, “fuck i dont know, but you look so good taking it poppet. want more ?”

“please, please, please,” you breathe out. “never want you stop.” 

harry smiles at that, although you cant really see him, bringing his right hand, with the tie, over to your left bum cheek, a little lower towards your thigh, and closer to your dripping center. he pulls it back further this time, snapping 5 consecutive times.

your body trembles as he finishes, his tongue darting out to soothe you again. he laps over the fresh wound softly, kissing over your skin.

he’s so close to your pussy, you can feel a few stray strands of hair tickling you, making your body involuntarily lean towards his mouth.

harry pulls away, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, “m’trying to make you feel better and here you are being greedy.”

“no, no, i’m sorry honey, your mouth just feels so good, you know how hard it is for me to resist you,” you add, silently praying that he just goes with it.

“stop sucking up,” he chuckles lightly, taking note of your pussy for the first time in a while. and christ, you really are wet. like really wet. dripping down onto the bed, wet. and for a moment harry feels bad. like he’s neglected your poor cunt. it’s desperately screaming for attention. as he goes to run his fingers through your sopping center, he notices the hair tie still wrapped around his thumb and index.

“wanna try something,” harry mumbles without a second though. 

he runs his hands from your hips, down your thighs to your knees, giving you a silent signal to lay down flat on your tummy. as you do what he asks of you, harry helps you turn over, onto your back.

“hi poppet,” he smiles at you, leaning over you to kiss your lips, something he hasn’t done since he tied you on your front.

you smile into the very welcomed kiss, having missed the comfort of his lips on yours. you slip your tongue into his mouth when he goes to speak, cutting him off before the first syllable even leaves him. you tug on the cuffs, wishing you could grip into his hair and keep his lips attached to yours.

but harry pulls away, shaking his head playfully as his index gently flicks your nose. “be good, poppet. wanna try something. think you’ll like it, but you’ll tell me if you dont, yeah ?”

“i will,” you hum, smiling at him. you wholeheartedly trust him, and your toes curl in anticipation, your tummy flipping with curiosity as you anxiously await to see what he’s got planned.

you watch as harry sits back on his knees, your legs on either side of his hips. his hands massage their way over your thighs, working their way inwards as he grips into your flesh, spreading your legs wide open for him. with any other partner, you would have been mortified right now. but not even a speck of that feeling exists with harry. 

his eyes rake over your inner thighs, seeing the mess your cunt has made. his gaze settles around mid thigh, the hair tie coming back into play and snapping against your sensitive skin.

your hips jolt, harry’s hands keeping your legs open before shifting to your other thigh, snapping the band a bit higher. each snap makes your body tremble more as he keeps up the alternating pattern, making his way higher and higher up your thighs.

harry watches as your pussy clenches with each snap, a dribble of your arousal leaking every time, as your hips jump up in search of any kind of friction. his prick is so rock hard, absolutely dying to bury himself inside you. but he needs to try this first. needs to see how you’ll react.

he places the tie taught between his fingers, just higher up than your clit, over your mound, wanting to test the waters out first. harry watches over your face, seeing a bit of apprehension, “s’just me, baby. i’ve got you. can stop anytime. give me a colour, please.”

and as anxious as you were, you were so excited, “green. just do it, please,” you groaned, the anticipation killing you.

harry snaps the band, not too hard, really not wanting to push you. he hears the loud moan leaving your chest, your stomach twitching. he places it a bit lower, right above your clit, “m’gonna need your colour again, poppet.”

“fuck, fuck, it’s green. can go harder,” you whimper, your nails digging painfully into your palms, waiting for it to smack against your most sensitive spot.

when the band hits against your clit, not too much harder than last time, harry notices a small trickle of liquid running down your cunt. “no fucking way,” he whispers to himself, eyebrows furrowed, your ears ringing much too loudly to hear him.

harry snaps the tie two times consecutively, a little harder again, as a bit more than a trickle escapes you this time. 

he can’t believe what he’s seeing, completely mesmerized by your heat, a groan from deep in his throat works its way out of him. without giving you much time to catch a breath, harry snaps it again, much harder this time, as a gush squirts out of your cunt.

“jesus fuck, poppet,” harry groans, dropping down to the bed, throwing the hair tie onto the bed, his mouth colliding with your sensitive pussy. 

your body is trembling from the attack on your clit, not having a moment to breathe before harry delved in to suck harshly on your abused cunt. 

you feel a bit disoriented, tugging hard on the restraints, needing to feel anchored to him somehow. “fuck, fuck harry, yellow,” you plead out, his ears perking up as he hears one of your safe words.

harry pulls away from you, his hands massaging your inner thighs, “what do you need honey, talk to me ?” he asks quietly, not wanting to overwhelm you. a yellow means slow down, and check in. he hopes this doesn’t turn into a red, that’s not exactly the way he hopes his cock goes soft tonight. 

“untie me, please,” you groan, tugging on the cuffs for good measure. 

harry nods without a second thought, reaching for the key on the nightstand and taking them off you, letting them clang to the floor. he holds your wrists gently in his hands, kissing the bruises left in the wake of your restraints.

“were they hurting ?” he asks, his hands gliding up your arms, settling on your back as he looks into your eyes, wanting to really see how you’re feeling.

“no, just a bit overwhelmed. needed to feel you,” you hum, your fingers running through harry’s locks, grabbing a good handful, “you can keep going anytime,” you smirk, adding cheekily.

he groans at the feeling of your hands tugging on his hair. as much as he loves seeing you tied up, the lack of touches torture him a bit too. “lesson for ya poppet, dont ever sass the mouth that’s snogging with your cunt.”

“i would, but your mouth is giving me a lecture, s’not snogging anything,” you challenge back, smirk growing wider. 

harry laughs, kissing your nose, “cant be mad at that. did you need me to slow down, love ? how has it been so far ? wanna check in completely, after that yellow.”

“maybe a bit slower,” you hum, rubbing your nose against his. “we have tons of time, yeah ?” you pause to kiss him, your lips slotting with his, sucking sweetly on the swell of his lip. “s’been really good so far, just really needed the cuffs off. needed to be able to feel closer to you after that.”

harry nods, totally understanding, delving back into your mouth, taking his time with you. reminding himself that tonight there’s really no need to rush, thankful for the odd occasion where time doesn’t exist.

“so, how many times should i make you cum then, poppet ?”

……

Masterlist

[blueaetherr]

hello, could you do a jude bellingham hot where he wins a final and has a fun night at the hotel with yn. please, kisses from Brazil.

thrill and adventure

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): mentions of drinking

summary: the one where they celebrate jude winning the champions league final by roaming around their hotel

author's note: hi anon, thanks for the request and sorry it took a bit long. i hope you enjoy this one <3

now playing: world on wheels by duckwrth ft. kyle dion

"Say cheese for me."

Looking up away from his phone, Jude noticed Y/N recording a video in the direction of the elevator mirror. His face lit up, happy and animated. Suddenly, the attention he had reserved for the person on the other side of his phone was long gone. For now, and like he always did, he let it fall on his first person, Y/N.

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he exclaimed, "Cheese!" Seeing as it was a video rather than a picture, Jude let that happiness and animation express themselves through the video. He bared his teeth through his flourishing smiles, stretching the words as he spoke to his partner, waving his arms with so much spirit and throwing up a peace sign every now and then. He was doing the most and all within reason. 

Jude had managed to win the Champions League final with his dear club, a win that now came before any other win, major or small, that he'd ever achieved before. The happiness, the joy, the relief, the satisfaction of winning—they were colourful and voluminous, so much more than he had ever experienced before in his career, in his life even.

It was all so overwhelming and the only right way to contain it all was to do the exact opposite; Jude would express all his caved feelings in the moment and let them out for everyone to experience for themselves.

Her phone long put away, she let her eyes fall on the medal Jude was wearing. "I'm proud of you, y'know," Y/N placed her hands on his shoulders, letting her sight move from his chest to meet his glance. He was already smiling at her when the two met eyes, only encouraging Y/N to laugh a bit as she felt her lips curve up. "I know I've already said it but I just gotta let you know one more time," they poked his chest a few times, "You played so well today, so well. You deserve this. All of it."

"Thanks Y/N, I know." Jude let himself be vulnerable, falling close and comfortable into an embrace with his partner, placing a kiss by the side of Y/N's head before leaning his head against hers, the two swaying to the kind elevator music and their shared laughter.

His words were said with clear purpose. I know you're proud of me. Y/N always let Jude know she was proud of him. By attending his matches, by sending him those last minute messages before he was to head onto the pitch. Never questioning his ability but rather building up his confidence and mood with just a few words, letting him know that he was a good player with every passing day.

I know I deserved this win. She always let him know he was destined for success; to the trophies, the love from the supporters, to the titles of the best or the most gifted. That his hard work wasn't in vain or just to pass the time, that Jude was doing the right things and taking the right steps in his career and he would see so much come through with time. After all, the passing hours were only the start of it all.

"But, but, but, but..." Pulling away from the embrace, Jude took off his medal and placed it around Y/N's neck. He continued, moving her hair so the medal could rest well. "I can't say I would have all of this if it wasn't for you." When everything was in place, Jude observed Y/N: her timid facial expression, the medal simply on her and just thought wow. Softly, he commented, "Look at that! It suits you so well." 

It was unfortunate that Y/N's name wouldn't be included with all the names of the players that won today's match—Jude felt like Y/N had won the match with him and the team. He knew to recognise her for everything she had ever offered him, for all that she was. His motivation, his support, his happy days. All that energy she put in him, Jude always took that and put it into his craft and let that grow into the success Y/N was always talking about.

He had to give credit where it was due. It was all because of her, his dearest Y/N.

Observing the medal in her hand, she hummed, "So this is like a what's yours is mine type shit?"

Jude let out a loud laugh, shaking his hand. He couldn't forget, too, that she was his laughter and comedy unintentionally. "I guess so."

"If that's what you want. Speaking of, what do you want to do, like, right now?" Y/N offered the floor to Jude. It was his day, his night, his month, his season maybe. She knew he was on cloud 9. He should get to choose what they should do. Besides, if she didn't ask him, he would've taken the opportunity to ask her.

"I don't know really," Jude exhaled a small breath, scratching the nape of his neck. "I haven't really thought about it y'know." 

His eyes fell on the elevator screen by the door showing the hotel floors slowly going up. Heading up to his hotel room, Jude came to realise that the two wouldn't actually have anything interesting to do other. All there was to do was sleep. And Jude could sleep, the feeling distant in his eyes but he didn't want to; the adrenaline from the match was still present and wouldn't allow him to sleep off any unnoticed fatigue.

He felt obliged to do something, to celebrate this massive win some more. And that, eventually, was something he wanted to fall back into once again. 

Y/N watched Jude head towards the elevator buttons, confused. And it was only deepened when he halted the elevator ride. Frowning, they wondered, "What are you doing?"

"I say let's not call it a night," Jude said with a shrug, a playful look soon maturing across his face. "I'm pretty sure everything here is 24 hours. Let's just roam around the hotel and do whatever we can find to do."

"And do what exactly?"

Rather than stopping on their floor, they pressed random buttons and let themselves reach a totally random floor. And as soon as the elevator door opened, they ran and ran and ran. Wherever Jude and Y/N could place their feet, where there lacked deadends, the two found their way together. Without care, passing by people while waving at them, saying a rushed sorry or excuse me, some with or without meaning whenever they bumped into someone.

They were like kids, unhinged yet full of excitement and wonder for the thrilling times the two were sharing together. Running through the hallways and dodging as many bodies as possible, finding the main hotel kitchen to have all chefs confused by their presence. Running into the restricted areas that, suddenly, weren't so restricted anymore; taking the elevator every time their feet were about to give out.

And Jude and Y/N were fun with it all too. Every security camera they saw (or they thought was one), the two would wave as if they were communicating with security on the other side. Every time they heard distant footsteps, they would share a glance before running away in laughter and giggles like they were being chased, holding hands for dear life to make sure one (Y/N) wasn't lagging behind the other (Jude) as they ran around seeking thrill and adventure.

Roaming around the hotel brought the couple to the hotel bar, where Jude and Y/N found the drinks and the karaoke machine. And for some reason beyond what they knew, they preferred the karaoke machine; to sing a song and loosen up sounded good. The adrenaline was so high up, so high that a drink or two wasn't necessary to boost their confidence. Nonetheless, they chose to drink some anyways too.

Together, Jude and Y/N sang their songs; their favourite songs, the ones they could sing, the ones they couldn't sing, the ones the pair sang in private and only to one another. And it definitely felt like it, like they were the only ones in the room. 'Cause even though some of Jude's teammates were present too in the bar—enjoying the atmosphere and recording Jude just in case—that didn't stop the couple from enjoying themselves and feeling like they were the only people in the room.

To fall back into reality– to fall out of their high and hyperactivity– the two headed to one of the many indoor swimming pools. Seeing as they hadn't brought any swimwear with them, they chose to swim in their undergarments, Jude and Y/N mindlessly laughing as they watched one another undress.

Heading into the swimming pool, they chose to take it easy. Holding one another, resting on the shallow end because they had no real energy to swim. Just like the pool water, that want to sleep and cave in was slowly washing over them, surely but slowly. There was talk, but it was exhausted and strained. All Y/N and Jude wanted to do was celebrate—that was the only thing resting on their minds. 

But from leaning on each other to not lose balance to almost dozing off on the pool floaties, they understood sleep was necessary at some point. It was time to pack it up for the night; the celebrations could start again another time.

Hand in hand—like they had been all night—a bit stiff and lagged in their walk, water carelessly dipping on the floor, the two together walked into their elevator. While Jude pressed the floor number in, Y/N took her place on the elevator floor, closing her eyes and exhaling low as her back got to rest against the wall. There was no energy between them; they could no longer hold themselves up without the help of each other.

She felt a presence relax by her side as the elevator began to go up. Opening her eyes, she turned to look at Jude to find him already wanting to catch her gaze. And they just laughed it off together, their laughter hollow and tired in the elevator. Nothing was necessarily funny, it was just a good way of getting past something that would've been embarrassing at the beginning of the relationship (which it was, particularly for Jude). 

Jude inhaled through his nose, rubbing it a bit. The pool water was still having its effect on him. There was a small moment of silence before he mentioned, randomly, "I gotta listen to more Kehlani songs."

"Yeah?" Chuckling, Y/N leaned her head against the elevator wall. It was a fun time to witness Jude so out of it. 

"Yeah, I do, I do," Jude nodded and sighed, letting his head rest against Y/N. "I really like one where she's all like I love you shawty, shawty," he sang, his drowsiness along with his accent pronouncing shawty like shaw-day. "That one's real cool."

"I know you like that song." From what she could remember, that was the song Jude was singing with the most passion and animation at the karaoke bar over others.

It felt like it took forever to reach their hotel floor. In reality, the elevator ride had only taken less than a minute. They had reached their hotel floor a long time ago. However, exhausted and slightly out of things, neither Jude nor Y/N noticed when the door had opened. They remained on the elevator floor, leaning on one another and engaging in simple talk. It was early in the morning; no one was awake so they felt no rush to get up. 

And even if the elevator doors closed on them, it would be okay. Somehow, they would find their way back.

"Hey, Y/N," his partner hummed, her voice almost trailing away from him. "Thanks for today, for everything really. This," with his eyes struggling to remain open, Jude tapped his finger against his Champions League medal Y/N was wearing. "I wouldn't have it without you."

"It's okay, Jude. I know." I know you're grateful to have me. And she was right; that's just how it was. Jude was, indeed, grateful to have Y/N.

[soapoet]

how are you, october?

+3 Taylor Swift songs each because she's striving and so should you.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

Soapy scribbles: I already did a general energy reading for this autumn season here, but there's quite a bit of energies at play this autumn, so I felt the need to look at October specifically as it feels very important.

01.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift ‐ Don't blame me, I did something bad, Red.

How long have you kept the light on? Sitting there, staring at the door, waiting for someone who never seems to come? The radio is on, playing two stations at once. The flower petals all say maybe, not he loves me, he loves me not. You are frustrated and confused, yearning for clarity but outside the sun just won't rise and the only light is the one lit outside your house. Have you given your time at a discount, or is the free trial still running? Someone needs to draw the line in the sand further from the waves that keep washing them away. You want more, and for love to not feel like agony. Red is the colour of passion, both love and hate. I see you wearing their white t-shirt, your heart bleeding and staining it red as you watch them sleep. Safe and sound, whilst you howl to the moon. You're growing territorial. A desperate act to ward off the wolves that prowl your prey. You saw them first, but they don't seem to see you.

It seems as though your thoughts and feelings are silly until somebody else echos them, word for word, and then they're liquid gold. You're not a ghost, but you feel your outlines blur. Where do you end and where do they begin? You haunt their halls, but they're fast asleep and never notice a bump in the night. You've felt powerless, like the quietest poltergeist, unable to move and shake the silverware, never able to rattle the cupboards or the picture frames. Somebody treats you like they would give you their last name, yet make no such commitments, not a single step in that direction. It is all up in the air, and you feel like the rug beneath your feet will get pulled at any moment. Is it not tiring to lie awake, watching the shadows, wondering what beasts may strike if you let your guard down in slumber? Without certainty, you're the one in fear under the covers, certain it wasn't just the wind. Because in your experience, it never really is.

Do not sign the dotted line without examination of the fine print. Better yet, do not sell your heart and soul to someone who will keep you on a shelf, saved for a rainy day, but will not puncture breathing holes into the lid and care for you truly. Do not let yourself be kept for a season, wings clipped and left to asphyxiate in a jar. You have given enough benefits of the doubt, but nobody is so daft, so oblivious, they would not embrace love they find worthy and good. Do not let yourself be kept as an option or as something good enough until something better, new and shiny, comes along. Close up shop and demand full subscription for your time and effort. If they won't pay the price, you'll find better in no time whilst karma chews them out. Especially if you feel like you can't do better, or have felt like love keeps avoiding you and you're somehow faulty and too broken to be loved, there really is someone around the next few corners who won't play you like a game or stick around only in fair weather but your storms too. So don't settle, you deserve better than okay and fine and good enough. For a select few, there really is love here, but may be drowning in addiction or fears of some kind. Remember that you can't help someone who doesn't want help, because change is made when they want change. This change may very well be coming up in the near future, and wrongs may be made right slowly. If this is somebody you love, whether romantically or platonically, even in a familial sense, make sure you keep your head above water and put your own oxygen mask on first before helping another. You can extend a helping hand, but do so when they ask, not because you're expected to do it because you always have. New beginnings in old relationships are possible if you want it.

Additional details: Amethysts, Ayurveda, moths, mixed signals, love languages, uquizzes and other such tests, purple, blue, red, bus rides, tattoos, job offers, writing, poetry, thesis, message in a bottle, missing an ex, addiction, healing, birds and squirrels, starting over, second chances, reminiscing, old photos or journal entries or ig posts, synastry charts, girl in red, Phoebe Bridgers, Noah Kahan, Bishop Briggs, YA book series, maladaptive daydreaming, BPD, lighters, short trips, parties or other get togethers, double dates, life path 8, birthdays, sanrio, studying, Scorpio/Aries/Virgo/Capricorn/Pisces, 3H/4H/5H/12H, Saturn/Mars/Uranus, Lilith/Chiron, 25/89/222/555.

02.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - Gorgeous, Paper rings, I think he knows.

Luck seems to be on your side, or it soon will be. After a long drought, you have stumbled upon an oasis. Prayers whispered in the dark, sometimes choked out by tears, are now proven to have been heard after all. Endless night and harsh winter is over, even though seasonally speaking it's right ahead of us in the northern hemisphere. In your life, however, you're coming out of a very long and hard winter. You have felt cold and lost, sometimes frozen in place, as though your icicle bones and frosted skin wouldn't let your body decompose when you thought you were dead. You were stuck up to your thighs in snow. Every step was a challenge, and harsh winds threatened you like frail branches bending and snapping in storms. Now the snow is melting, trampled into slush beneath your boots and making way for spring flowers to bloom.

Forward movement is happening in many areas of your life. New beginnings are popping up like wildflowers in a meadow for you to frolic in. You're making changes and changes are making you. Immovable objects begin to roll down the hilltop where you've felt stranded like a lone celltower sending and receiving signals. You may have felt in your heart and soul that the winds are changing. Your intuition has been wide open and receptive for some time now, hasn't it? But rooted in place unable to move you have felt unable to take action. That is changing now as not only can you move forward, but things you have wished for begin to arrive like ships to your shores. You sowed and nurtured the seeds and it is time to harvest your crops. If you have dealt with mental terrors and grief, you should see those slowly begin to heal, circumstances improve, and help becoming available to you and you finally feel ready and able to take it.

If you've been engaging in some good old fashioned yearning, know that it's a case of mutual pining. Someone whose freckles, birth marks, or scars you have mapped out like an astronomer the night sky in stolen glances has stolen just as many of you. Either one of you, perhaps both, have been closing doors as of late, gone through endings and made space for the new and found the keys to the doors once shut and chained and locked. There is a distinct sense of leveling up here, like entering a new region in a game at last when the requirements have been met, and you're now free to explore new and unknown territory. I see unwavering eye contact where before it was a game of cat and mouse. I see a church, two people side by side in the pews sharing quiet confessions. Words previously only thought find a voice and get spoken, not to the moon but the heart they were meant for. There can be some secrecy involved, but less like the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet it's keeping something sacred between two souls, keeping each other like an oath. Sheltering a flame, for some of you one rekindled, between four hands and promising to meet in the woods at night. This secrecy is not one grown from shame, but one of dedication. A solid foundation, a home and sturdy fortress is being built or rebuilt in the dark of the night so its eventual beauty and intricacies may be admired by all in the sun. You may have manifested this, or simply known this was inevitable. All you really had to do was accept it as fate and wait for it to unfold. This is a cozy kind of love, but also devout like two souls looking upon each other in reverence. It feels as close as it feels free. There's something to lean on but also room to grow. You hold each other tightly, but loosen the grip as needed, and always ready to catch the other if they fall. For some of you this marks the end of a third party situation, an entirely new love, and for others this is reworking an existing or past love with a new set of rules and making magic together after tough challenges.

Additional details: Full moon, abundance, sudden income, lottery luck, gifts, receiving or giving flowers, dancing, swimming, guided meditations, listening to higher frequencies, therapy or counselling, lists and plans, entrepreneurship, editing, finishing tasks, cats, rabbits and ferrets or rodents, pancakes and waffles, sunflowers and dandelions, espresso, heavy rain, holding hands, nostalgic scents or environments, coughing, PTSD, neurodivergence, artificial intelligence, fidget toys or stress balls, colouring books, arts and crafts, dainty jewellery, body language, law of assumption, dreams, blue, green, black, glasses, kpop, punk, indie, Stray Kids, Ateez, Dreamcatcher, Daft Punk, Sabaton, Avenged Sevenfold, Korn, Virgo/Leo/Cancer/Aquarius/Sagittarius, 1H/3H/5H/11H, Jupiter/Moon/Mercury/Pluto, North and South Node/Ceres, 12/13/33/555/888.

03.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - The archer, Mean, Anti-hero.

Narcissus and Echo, a tragedy of old. You may have been at the mercy of fluctuating between the two. This can be a dance between you and another, or you and your own reflection. You may have pushed someone away. A friend, a family member, yourself, or an authority figure of sorts. Demanding they leave you alone, left them on read or never bothered to open their letters at all, after so long of clinging to their every word. Certain of your independence, a need to put yourself first, desperate self love wholly unrequited. Or perhaps you fought viciously for yourself, but your voice was never heard. As though you always needed someone else to speak your words for them to be taken as right and true. Perhaps you were sent on a glitched quest, "ask your mother" only met with "ask your father", leaving you in the uncertainty of the in between, alone and filled to the brim with unanswered questions and no sense of direction.

You have sought help, asked for assistance, asked all the right questions and really pushed your own cart forwards though it has been uphill. And something or someone always cast stones on your path forward, shoved stick between the wheels to make the process feel so hopeless. There are wounds that you bear that have been left unhealed for years. Still raw and bleeding you dry whilst you try to keep yourself together like cupping water in your hands as it spills through your fingers. But though your path is full of traps and spikes and is uncertain and winding, you know the way forward all within yourself. Because you carry with you the only light you need to find your way. You may cross paths with kind advisors who unseathe their swords to fight for you, and some of them may already be in your life. Those who see the injustice and tear down the thicket ahead to make way for you and protect you whilst you stitch your wounds and ready yourself for battle yourself. Accept the help, encouragement, and follow these kind mercenaries when you get lost. Allow them to carry your burdens when as Atlas you need a break from carrying the world upon your shoulders. Soon you'll be strong enough to do what you need to do. Be better, stronger, healthier, if not for you right now then for those who need you and cherish you and want you by their side in the quests of life. Eventually your actions will prove to be the best for you, and a faint portrait of a future you smiles upon your present self for your decision to keep moving forward.

If you need to put your foot down, do so in earnest. Shoo away guilt and shame, and let go of the idea that you must suffer in silence and weather unnecessary storms, speak when spoken to and follow another's commands so often not in favour of your own well-being. Fight your inner demons, but know you need not fight them alone. Dip a quill in ink and rewrite the rules. Break into the library which holds the book of life and black out that what does not serve you, and take ownership of your own story. If Narcissus treats you poorly, trample him under your foot on your way out the door. He is only a flower now and seasons change, and he will wilt and wither away as you no longer shine upon his petals.

Additional details: Violins, literature, art galleries, sisters and fathers, divorce, babies or children, psychotherapy, CBT, law, changing your name, lgbt+, jazz, classical music, Regina Spektor, Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, borzoi, dog videos, playing instruments, writing a book, storytelling, unknown address, exotic animals, spiders, ED, OCD, teddy bears, squishmallows, studying for a test, doctor's appointments, funerals, chill covers/lofi, slowed/reverb/acoustic versions, subliminals, affirmations, lace, fuzzy socks or woolen socks, bruises, house plants, monstera, ivy, pothos, tea collection, cold hands, Taurus/Gemini/Libra/Scorpio/Capricorn, 2H/6H/8H/10H, Saturn/Pluto/Neptune/Venus, IC/MC, 17/23/95/11:11/000/444.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Picasso

after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.

COLLEGE DORM AU

Read aftermath here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!

😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.

The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.

Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.

After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.

You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.

Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.

He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.

You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.

You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.

When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.

“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”

“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.

“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.

“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”

“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.

“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.

“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”

“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.

“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.

“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”

“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.

“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.

“And that’s a problem?”

“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.

“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”

“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”

“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.

“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”

“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”

“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.

“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.

“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”

“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”

“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.

“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.

“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.

“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.

“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.

“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”

“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.

“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”

“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.

“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“

“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.

You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.

When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.

“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.

“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.

“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.

“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.

“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.

“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.

“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.

“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.

“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.

“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.

“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.

The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.

You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”

“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”

“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.

“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.

“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.

“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”

“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.

“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.

“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”

“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”

“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.

“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.

“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”

“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.

“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.

“What instrument?”

“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”

“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.

“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.

“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.

The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.

Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”

“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.

Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.

“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.

“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”

“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.

“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.

“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.

“Care for some company?” He smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.

“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.

“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.

You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.

You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.

You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.

Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.

“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.

“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.

“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”

“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”

“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.

“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.

“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.

“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.

“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”

“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.

“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.

“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.

“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”

“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.

“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.

“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.

The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.

“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.

“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.

“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.

“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.

“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.

“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.

“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.

“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.

“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.

“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”

“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.

“Some paint,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.

“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.

“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.

“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.

“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.

“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”

“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.

“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.

Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.

You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.

You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.

“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.

“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.

“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.

“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.

The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.

He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.

His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.

“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.

“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”

“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”

“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.

“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.

“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.

“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.

“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.

“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.

“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.

“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.

“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.

He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”

“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.

“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.

“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.

“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.

“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”

“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.

“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.

As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.

He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.

The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.

“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.

“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.

“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.

He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.

“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.

He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.

He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.

He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.

“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.

“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.

“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.

“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”

“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.

“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”

“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.

“Me, too.” You assured him.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.

“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.

After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.

The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.

“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.

Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.

It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.

He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.

“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.

“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.

“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

“Do you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.

“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.

“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.

“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.

“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.

“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.

“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”

He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.

“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.

“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.

He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”

“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.

The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.

“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.

“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.

His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.

The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.

“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.

“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”

“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”

“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.

“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.

“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.

“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.

“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.

“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.

“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.

[eshoeteric]

🍓 style analysis: nana komatsu / hachi (NANA) 

welcome to the first entry in my style analysis series- where i take a different fictional character for each entry and take a look at their fashion sense, as an exploration on how fashion plays a role in forming a character's personality & overall identity. in other words, it's a deep dive into the intersection of story & style. today we're starting off with nana komatsu (who we'll be affectionately referring to as hachi from here on out) from NANA, my favourite character from my favourite manga of all time.

NANA is a manga very near and dear to my heart. i could spend all day talking about why, but i'd say one of the biggest reasons is for how ai yazawa (the creator of NANA) uses fashion as a means of storytelling. in NANA, clothes are not just a typical character design element, but are instead a visual narrative tool used to convey a characters' personality, as well as to express their traits and feelings. today i've chosen hachi for the style analysis because i'm fascinated by the subtle changes to her style syncing with her character development over the course of the story. also, i think her style is just super cute. so let's get into it! (⚠ anime & manga spoilers ahead)

🍓

overview

if i only had one word to describe hachi's style, i'd say feminine- think frills and lace details. she's all about babydoll silhouettes, pleated skirts, knit cardigans, ballet flats, and generally embodying shoujo fashion from the early 2000s with a good balance of cute and classy. hachi's fashion sensibilities lean more towards the modest side, as her dresses and skirts are usually around midi-length, and mini skirts are often paired with extra layers like tights or leggings underneath. it's a very good girl chic look, which fittingly leans in to her innocent personality. hachi is very stylish and clearly puts a lot of thought into picking her outfits everyday, as she's not afraid to occasionally experiment with different styles every & to use fashion as a key means of expressing herself.

in terms of colour palettes, hachi's wardrobe has a bit of everything- warm hues, earth tones, soft pastels, which all work together to capture the warmth and sweetness of her character. she's definitely more attuned to light colours than dark. this suits her personality better too, as light coloured clothing is said to convey feelings of friendship, fun, compassion, and approachability. fabric-wise, hachi likes to keep it light and airy with materials like chiffon and tulle; switching to warmer fabrics like cashmere and wool for cold weather, giving her outfits a vintage feel.

we can see that hachi pulls fashion inspiration from various aesthetics and fashion trends across different decades. she definitely incorporates her love for vintage fashion in her style, particularly with elements we've seen her wear before like mod dresses, neckerchiefs, pearl necklaces, long fleece trim coats, and brown platform boots. you can also see it in how some of the pieces she wears feels so unique, like a surprise gem you would find in a vintage boutique while thrifting. in dressier looks, hachi's girlish charm and allure is slightly reminiscient of 1960s it girls, like twiggy and sharon tate. she draws from a lot of 60s-inspired elements- the romantic parisienne style, and a bit of vintage preppy chic.

scarves and bandanas are a vintage essential as well as one of hachi's signature accessories. they have tons of versatile styling options, plus the potential to be dressed up or down. we've seen her wearing one scarf (exhibit A) multiple times over the series. the babushka scarf version has to be my favourite, it's very hepburn-esque, who i 100% i could picture hachi having a poster of in her childhood bedroom. i also think that having characters re-wear pieces we've seen before is generally just a cool subtle styling detail, which adds to the realism of NANA's 10/10 worldbuilding. the scarf's many appearances styled in different ways also goes to show how hachi enjoys being creative with her outfits, loves the pieces she owns and wants to get as much use out of them as possible.

hachi's style also incorporates a touch of influence from the kawaii lolita subculture, particularly modern offshoots like larme-kei. lolita is french rococco-inspired with a focus on cuteness, and has its origins in early 2000s harajuku street style- which is also where mori/kogyaru fashion originates from; hachi's go-to style during her high school years (see: her modified school uniform, miniskirts, fuzzy legwarmers). both of these movements were heavily pioneered by j-fashion magazines of the time like FRUITS, Olive, Larme & CUTiE, which were mainly popular with teenage girls and young women, and hachi is no exception. her fashion sense is also heavily inspired by famous japanese celebrities and style icons like risa nakamura.

if we had to really narrow it down, i think hachi's style can be best described by otome (lit: maiden) fashion. known as one of the predecessors of lolita fashion, this style was very popular among young girls in the 70s-80s and is heavily centered around embodying all things traditionally feminine. sweet, cute, girly, and romantic are all common descriptors of the style, which pulls influence from 60s mod fashion (which, as we've seen, has prevalent elements in hachi's style). think tons of layering, pattern mixing, longer hemlines, and mary janes/flats, all of which we frequently see in hachi's outfits. we also see that she takes elements from modern lolita fashion like frills, bows, ribbons, lace, tights & stockings, and incorporates them into her own personal style as more understated outfit details; making it more wearable on a daily basis while still being a tribute to one of her sources of style inspiration.

now that we've explored what makes hachi's personal style unique to her character, let's dig into how her style is influenced in relation to how the story progresses and how her character develops. and just for funsies, i'll also be styling a casual everyday outfit that i could picture hachi wearing for each story arc. let's go!

🍓

i. art school

i'd describe hachi's style here as the most youthful, which makes sense considering she's freshly moved to tokyo to study at an art school. we see her sporting a face-framing pixie cut, which gives her look a bit of edge, but not too much as she still retains her signature soft girl style to balance it out. also, can i just say: super farmer's daughter vibes when paired with a bandana! jeans were having a moment too- during this era, hachi was often seen wearing a pair of bellbottom flares or baggy jeans, creating a casual and easygoing look which really leaned into the artsy college student fashion. this would also mesh well with her then-best friend junko's more bohemian/indie, woodstock-inspired hippie style. the short hair paired with her experimentation on androgynous silhouettes definitely accentuates her gamine facial features, lending to a cute boyish look.

all these style elements are in direct contrast with the hyperfeminine looks of her high school years, back when she'd opt for skirts over jeans and long, styled hair; showing how hachi underwent a pretty drastic style change whilst adapting to the new environment in tokyo. at the same time, it could also hint at hachi's approach to self-expression & using fashion as a coping mechanism to deal with major life changes. dressing more casually to blend in with the college crowd is one of many indicators on how easily influenced hachi can get, which is pretty on-brand behaviour for someone with a tendency to seek validation from others instead of oneself.

so let's get into the first look i've picked out for her: layers on layers on layers baby! for this outfit, i took a lot of inspiration from hachi's first day of class outfit. i tried to be consistent with her theme of 70s-inspired prints and silhouettes during this phase, but also wanted to incorporate a modern y2k touch since we know that younger hachi (before fully developing her unique & personal sense of style) is more of a trend chaser, and what could be more early 2000s than a blouse + dress + jeans combo? accessories-wise, i wanted to pick out unique-looking pieces that had a lot of charm, as i was really going for that 'flea market finds' vibe since she obviously wouldn't have been able to afford any designer yet on a college student budget. also please notice the gorgeous vintage floral print ballet flats- i was so excited when i found it, i thought it screamed hachi!! they look so comfortable to walk in on top of being cute, it's the perfect shoe to slip on for a long day of classes without sacrificing style.

🍓

ii. apartment 707

during this time, we see hachi start to embrace feminine styles again. she lets her hair grow out and we see her back in skirts, dresses, and all things girly, which is why her otome fashion influences shine through most here. she wears tons of pieces in floral and polkadot print, as well as flowy babydoll tops which are very y2k-girl-next-door-reminiscient. we also see her starting to wear vivienne jewelry (the pearl choker, the dainty silver orb earrings), likely as a result of nana's influence (who she heavily admires and looks up to) & wanting to emulate her style. hachi's outfits here seem to have more colour and print, which i believe is reflective of her mental state here; happy, confident, and surrounded by support. good vibes all around, her environment at this time encourages her to take more risks in not just decision-making but also in her fashion choices.

in general, this era is where hachi seems to be getting a better hold on growing into her own personal style. she's still open to trying out different styles every now and then, but we can see there are some style elements that really stick and appear most often in her outfits. she's also seen here experimenting with all kinds of different hairstyles- french braids, pigtails, twin buns, the half-updo. to me, i think all of this signifies how hachi's style development runs parallel to her identity formation and how she grows as a person. at this point of the story, hachi believes she's finally found a place where she fits- within this ragtag but loving cast of unique characters.

so the second look was a little more of a challenge to work with- that's because hachi's style during this era doesn't subscribe to any one specific aesthetic or subculture, but more like a bit of everything, and her outfits can differ a lot between episodes. the goal here was to go for a casual daytime outfit, and i ended up super proud of the colour coordination in this one! i've styled hachi in a frilly vintage floral print chiffon slip dress that's almost reminiscent of the strawberry dress of 2020, but with unique details that give it much more character. i gave hachi a cream-toned vivienne crossbody purse, a scarf to balance out the salmon pink of the dress accents, styled as a neckerchief, some strawberry hair clips to match, and of course i had to include her much-spotted pearl orb necklace too. the highlight of this look are definitely the shoes, which are maison margiela tabi ballet flats- something i could 100% picture hachi wearing if NANA were set in the context of modern day fashion trends.

🍓

iii. motherhood

as time passes, we also see how hachi's fashion sense has slightly evolved into a classier, more refined version. more adult, if you will. this occurs when hachi decides to move out from apartment 707 and starts getting serious with takumi. not only did her living situation change, but as did her lifestyle, and with that, her fashion sense too. her style here simplified and took on a more mature look. she started prioritizing function over form as she cut down on layering and accessorizing. she would also opt for longer, flowier silhouettes and comfortable styles, often wearing simple dresses or aprons over a basic shirt-skirt combo. i really like how the change in style here - which pulls a lot from the 50s-suburbia housewife trope (think frilly aprons, puffy dresses, flared skirts, modest hemlines) - feels like a sublte detail to show how hachi settles into her new role of motherhood, expressed via clothing choices.

as a whole, this period of her life signifies the drastic 180° change from spending carefree days of young adulthood, to taking on the role of mother/wife in a nuclear family unit. it's the most major life change she's ever had to experience at this point, and it's expected that her style evolves alongside this. she's seen wearing noticeably less patterns or colour during this time, which could hint at possibly representing her inner feelings- the bleakness of spending her days in a mostly-empty home, and the isolation of being separated from the friendships she once surrounded herself with daily. thankfully, we do eventually see her return to dressing fashionably again after the timeskip. however, it's extremely important not to gloss over this period of her life as it portrays how she must have felt having most of her agency taken away overnight, with her style being all she had left as a form of control.

so last but not least is the final outfit, which was tough styling as there was comparably less material to go off, but i based it on the few going-out looks we get to see hachi wear post-takumi. rolling with the 50s-inspired looks, i've styled her in a coral short-sleeve button down dress. for the outerwear i picked a long checkered overcoat, which nicely complements the dress in addition to being a going-out staple for classy ladies everywhere. since the outfit is mostly harsher silhouettes, i decided to keep the colour scheme light to balance it out. while i was going for 'stylish mature woman', i still wanted some youthful elements in there to maintain hachi's signature girlish look. i balanced it out by accessorizing with a headband (a prep chic essential) and dior saddle bag, both lime green for a pop of colour and contrast. and of course, i had to incorporate the iconic neckerchief too as it doesn't get any more vintage-looking than this. the final piece to tie it all together are a pair of classic miu miu ballet flats- chic and comfortable!

🍓

final thoughts

all in all, hachi's fashion sense is super girly and sweet, which i'd say directly reflects on her character's personality. hachi is an outgoing girl who wears her heart on her sleeve and has a lot of love to give. she's warm and approachable, which she expresses through her clothing choices by embodying the cheerful, down-to-earth girl next door look. her bubbly style is youthful and fresh, which personality-wise is in character with hachi's innocence and willingness to trust others. this is shown through how much hachi cares deeply about her loved ones & often (unhealthily) prioritizes their feelings over her own. however, this naïveté unfortunately leaves her a lot more vulnerable to others seeking to exploit her emotional attention.

hachi's fashion evolution over the series shows how she uses fashion as a coping tool to help adjust to life changes, capturing her emotional growth and how she matures over the course of the story. the way that hachi's sense of style develops alongside her character is so realistic. her style development tells the story of a girl who finds herself and loses herself over and over again, frequently changing jobs and wardrobes in a constant struggle to find an identity to latch onto- until she does. hachi's style story is one of self-expression & identity formation; a story that speaks to all the young, unsure girls out there who see a bit of themselves in her, trying to figure out their place in a world in a world that often decides for them.

[anika-ann]

Little Miss Red (R.D.)

Type: blurb, one-shot, drabble (for me it's drabble-length okay)

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader          Word count: 1800

Summary: Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight.

When you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.

Warnings: NSFW FILTH, 18+, smut!!! I mean it. Filth, y’all. Fingering, oral sex. Written in Ransom’s voice, so language and greyish lizard brain. Hints of degradation, praise kink and innocence kink.

A/N: this is COMPLETELY on @chase-your-dreams-away who claimed she has no time to write it after just throwing the plot bunny out here with @murdock-and-the-sea supporting her.

A/N: divider by amazing @firefly-graphics; the title of the fic does not refer to dd/lg dynamics nor the actual body proportions of the reader

Ransom knew he was going to have fun with you the moment you walked through the door.

A little unsteady on your feet, but deeply embarrassed expression coating your face when you stumbled and swiftly righted yourself; unsure on your high heels, not drunk out of your mind. Little red dress hugging your ass and not much else lower, the hem riding up higher than midthigh as it had probably been intended, your hands quick to remedy it. Cheap make-up which he could spot a mile away, a courtesy of being the child of small-business-loving mother.

You looked so out of place in the luxurious club and so out of your debt that Ransom knew he wanted to play cat and mouse with you.

Except you were definitely a kitten; there was no arguing it later when you nervously tasted the head of his cock, shy kitten licks turning into a small purr around his head when you tried to wrap your lips around him, clearly doing so for the first time.

He knew that was what you were looking for when you came in. He was good at reading people – that was what made him so good at his game. Your sinfully red lipstick spoke for itself and he predicted that the night was going to end up with that colour smeared all over him, with mascara running down your cheeks. He had you blinking up at him with tender wonder and want with just a few sweet words and lured you in into the private saloon with a promise of a good time and being a gentleman.

When his mouth found yours after two minutes of idle meaningless chitchat, you had smiled contentedly into the kiss. Your breath quickened as soon as his tongue pushed between your lips, a silent squeak into his mouth – but leaning into his touch eagerly, heart like a cute little hummingbird – when his hands started wandering to your breasts, so prettily wrapped in the crimson dress. Yes. You might be of limited experience and playing coy, but you came here for one thing and Ransom was happy to give it as long as he got to take from you much more.

You responded to even the faintest touch. When he ran his fingers through your folds over the absurdly thin excuse for an underwear, you were already soaking and fuck, the needy whine that escaped your swollen lips when he circled your puffy nub… it almost made him cum in his damn pants. He was going to eat you up.

If he wasn’t so determined to see your red mouth around him, he’d take your cunt. She was sucking his fingers right in, greedy for more, and yet it was almost as tight as if you were a virgin and was just as sensitive. He’d know; he had taken plenty. He loved stealing their innocence, ruining them for other men. He breathed in the power he gained when he was the first to claim that territory, all warm, wet and so damn snug; having them cry his name as their pain, that delicious pain he both caused and took away, blended into pleasure and pleas for more. Breathy. Needy. Begging so sweet and filthy, obscenities spilling from those good girl lips that had trembled a bit at the size of his cock and yet took it so well.  

You asked for more too, weak voice coming out in gasps as he stuffed the third finger in, the squelch of your juices filling the space and sending blood straight under his belt. By the time you were trapping his fingers in with how hard he made you cum, he was ready to burst the second you’d take him to your throat. It was a thrilling game of control and self-control; and he’d always win.

You were a fast learner. After paying attention to the head, you took him in and sucked experimentally, eyes fluttering shut when he placed his big hand on your nape, encouraging you to take more. And so you did. Fast learner; eager learner. Ransom loved them eager to please him, especially when they were first timers, face all flushed at the mere suggestion of sucking him off at first. Now? Your nose was on his pubic bone, hair ruffled from how he gripped you close for his tip to brush your throat, your pretty cheap make-up running, lipstick all where he needed it.

As a bonus, you clawed your hands on him all over; over his thighs, over his ass, pushing away and pulling closer, your hips bucking forward in search of friction. And fuck if that didn’t get him going; his Little Miss Red enjoyed the hell out of sucking a cock and choking at it, gagging and grabbing at him as if she didn’t feel him deep enough. Who would have thought.

“That’s it, kitten, that’s it, take my load…” he coaxed you and caressed your hair with his free hand, lost to the vibration around him when you hummed in agreement, purring like a little obedient affection-hungry kitten indeed.

“Oh baby, look at you, a good little girl acting like such a whore for a big cock, hm? Fucking love that virgin mouth. Look at the mess you’re making of yourself for me.”

You had. You struggled to swallow and breathe, saliva pooling and escaping your mouth but damn, you were so excited to do better, holding onto his ass, his inner thighs, trying to brush your weepy core against his shin to earn some of that friction you so obviously craved.

Your fingers stroked over his balls and he spilled down your throat with a satisfied groan, fingers in your hair flexing to keep you there and swallow it all as you coughed and sputters, more black streaks painted your pretty face, throat spasming with a choked sound.

You curiously left him in your mouth as he softened, that little experimental lick almost enough for him to get hard again. He pulled you up and walked back to the couch to tug you into his lap, claiming your mouth with his own, tasting his victory in the salty tang on your tongue. What a sweet picture you made; a fucked out mess, eager for more, innocence ruined. He almost took a photo to make the euphoria last longer.

But you got shy again, all wide-eyed, when he pulled out a wipe from his breast pocket, spitting a bit to clean your face up from the worst smudges.

“Told you I’d be a gentleman, didn’t I, kitten? Can’t have you walk around the club like this, everyone would know what you’ve been up to,” he smirked, cock twitching at your meek thank you and the little spark in your eye that told him that you might like that. You might enjoy other people knowing what was in your mouth and now in your belly, wear your ruined cute face like a badge of honour.

Fuck, he could keep you. If he only cared enough for the shit that came with keeping just one girl at his arm. Keeping anyone, really.

Your legs were a little wobbly after he tested you were wet for him again and you buckled into his touch, but he sent you walking out with your purse all alone, satisfied for the night – or at least half of it. Still sprawled on the couch, he tucked himself in and gathered his breath and composure before he returned to the few bearable members of his fraternity fraction. They hit up a club every once in a while, a little hunting trip for pussy. The one who’d score first during the night out paid for the drinks.

Ransom’s smirk widened as he stepped back into the main room. He had no doubt he was the winner tonight; that feeling was damn worth the few hundred bucks he’d pull out of his Valentino-

The smirk slipped from his face when all his palm was the fabric of his empty pocket, his lips parting with mute shock, anger flaring up in an instant.

“Son of bitch-“

His head snapped up, instinctively searching for you; and finding you by the entrance again. You smiled at him sweetly, one corner of your sinfully red lips higher in a smirk as you waved his wallet at him. He froze mid-step.

Blowing him a cheeky kiss, you dropped your timid demeanour like a paper-thin mask, letting it drift towards the floor as slowly as you sunk to your knees for him.

An act. He had fallen for a cheap fucking act. You were no first timer; you were far from shy, apparently.

With bitter clarity, he recalled your hands clawing at his ass when he had thought he had it all under his control, including you, as you struggled to breathe. Your throat spasmed so sweetly, showing him heaven, while he dragged you to hell.

Or he had believed so. Now, watching you disappear behind the door as if you had been nothing but a fever dream, it was easy to see it was the other way around; or maybe you were both going to hell already.

A fist bumped into his shoulder, laughter of his wannabe friends reaching his ears.

“Well, well, well, looks like someone already scored tonight,” Harold howled, cackling as other guys booed and whistled. “Drinks are on Drysdale tonight, y’all!”

Oh Ransom would be drinking tonight, alright. Son of a bitch. That little, little bitch.

“She stole my wallet,” Ransom muttered, barely audible, still hypnotizing the door as if you were to come back. Yeah right.

“Wait what? Dude! You gotta block your credit card and call the cops before she buys a fucking Ferrari at your expense or something! Come on!”

The outrage in his Bryan’s voice snapped Ransom from his stupor, his head slowly turning to the man who spoke the sound advice.

The image of the check Little Miss Red buying a luxury sports car just as red for his money. It should strike him with terror. It should make his blood boil. It should make him want to grab your cute little neck and choke the life out of you.

But his surprise and exasperation gradually blended into the strangest feeling of pride.

You participated in his game of cat and mouse; you were the kitten. You were the cat.

You won fair and square even as both of you played more than dirty.

He could respect that.

“Nah. I’ll let her have it for a bit. It’s kinda like having a sugar baby…” Ransom mused, shrugging it off. “When she least expects it, I’m gonna find her and make her show how sorry she is. …or maybe make her my sugar thing for real. I mean… those lips looked really pretty around my dick after all.”

Mics masterlist

Yeah, the stealing the wallet bit and Ransom kinda respecting the reader for it was the “innocent remark” @chase and @murdock came with and my brain went hggggnnnn, because yeah, he would.

Thank you for reading. I'm gonna go bath in holy water, excuse me.

(the convo that inspired this filth... we know he would)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 21

Ian Gallagher + Waxplay and/or temperature play

I actually really like writing this, for some reason? You can totally imagine Mickey in the readers place, its why I haven’t used y/n in this one.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

The exhale that left Ian was shaky, his chest shuddering as he puffed out the breath he had been holding for a little too long in anticipation. His arms had been tied to the headboard of your shared bed, his clothes having been removed in quite a hurry when you two got home. Ever since you guys had gotten your own apartment away from his family, your intimate life had only unfolded further than before.

In the past you two didn’t have any time to experiment, since Ian had shared a room with his siblings his entire life, and your family had a habit of just barging in or even kicking down the door if it was locked. It had started with the two of you fucking all over the apartment, in the kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, on the floor of the foyer, the list went on, there wasn’t a single point in your apartment that hadn’t been christened.

After that you guys started exploring different things, different kinks you’d both had an interest in but never got the chance to try. You had a sizable number of toys for this exact reason, even rope made specifically for bondage, said rope woven around Ian’s wrists and the headboard.

One of the kinks Ian had really wanted to try was waxplay, but you had always been a bit unsure, not wanting to burn him on accident. Ian, being who he was, started researching the subject and later on presented you with Soy candles made for waxplay. They were a deep green and unscented, and you knew for a fact Ian had picked that colour since it would look good dripped all over his freckled body.

He didn’t have as many freckles as he used too, having seemingly grown out of it, but during the summer some would still appear all over his face and torso. Sitting on his hips you could truly appreciate those few freckles, an almost taunting grin twitching onto your lips as you ground down against Ian’s naked cock.

You were still in your boxers, it was kind of a power thing, as Ian normally topped and was the one in charge, so something as small as leaving your own clothes on as he was stark naked as the day he was born, helped to put him in the right headspace.

He was already had, probably had gone around with a half chub all day since you had mumbled in his ear that morning that you wanted to use the candles when he got home. That was why he had been so fast to throw off his clothes, leaving a trail of it leading towards your bedroom, where he had thrown himself onto the bed and folded his arms above his head like a well-trained soldier following orders.

You could tell how giddy Ian was as he almost wiggled underneath you, his breath catching when you started running your hands up and down his torso, squeezing his pecs with an appreciative hum before you pinched at his abs, causing them to tighten as Ian gave a soft gasp.

A couple of candles were burning on the bedside table, you had lit them a few minutes before he got home, wanting to take your time before they’d melted enough to be used. As you waited, you took the time to appreciate your lovers’ body, leaning down to nip and bite at his skin, sucking hickeys against his pale neck and chest, ignoring the half-hearted grumble from Ian telling you not to leave hickeys where his coworkers could see.

You knew he didn’t mean it, especially as his cock throbbed against you, already twitching and slick with precum. Wanting to see it, you lifted your hips enough for his hard length to almost bounce against his tight stomach, a tiny pool of precum already gathering between his abs as he huffed when you sat back down on his thighs.

Unable to resist, you reached down and gave the underside of his cock a small pinch, not meant to hurt, but enough to be felt. His hips would have jumped off the bed if you weren’t sitting on him, a grunted noise leaving his clenched teeth as he furrowed his brows in a way you knew meant he was trying to still look like he was somewhat in charge of it all.

You tsked and almost cruelly rubbed your pad of your thumb against his tip, using your other hand to hold his cock still as you switched from your thumb to your palm, moving in quick movements that had a slick noise filling the room as his hips gave a hard jump upwards, almost lifting you off the bed.

Ian groaned as his eyes rolled as his lids fluttered, his teeth digging into that delicious bottom lip of his as he tried to contain the higher pitched noises wanted to rip from his throat. His legs jolted against the bed as you gave a harder squeeze around his circumcised head, giving it one last slow cruel stroke before you released it, his length falling back against his stomach with a wet slap.

Ian’s eyes fluttered open as your weight shifted, his breath catching as he saw you grabbing one of the candles off of the bedside table, almost holding his breath in anticipation as you sat back on his thighs once more, now holding the lit candle.

He audibly gulped as you blew out the candle, your free hand settling on his lower stomach as you reached up, holding the candle above his shuttering chest. Ian’s eyes were wide, he looked almost starved as his nostrils flared when he finally remembered to breathe. His eyes tracked the melted wax collecting at the lid of the candle as you turned it, his cock twitching and drooling another drop of white against his stomach.

He didn’t make much noise as you poured the first of the wax against his shaved chest, the streak of dark green standing out starkly against his pale skin. But you could tell from the way his eyes fluttered that he enjoyed it, his inhale sounding a little more rushed than before as his arms flexed against his bindings.

And so, the act continued as you kept pouring melted wax against his torso, even streaking a bit of it up his neck but never getting too close to his face for safety reasons. The colour of the wax lightened somewhat as it dried across his torso, His shuddering becoming more visible the more hot wax you flicked across his body.

Finally, as you grabbed the third and last candle, did he start making audible noise, small huffs and tiny moans leaving him as you painted a line of wax across his nipple, starting to feel more confident in the movements. A stuttered soft curse left him as you painted a line across his stomach, closer than you’d ever been before to his cock.

He looked almost wild with his wide eyes locked down on where the wax was painted across his body, it was obvious he was close as his noises rose in volume and his cock kept jolting and dripping like a broken faucet, the pool of precum on his stomach almost looking like another splash of wax.

Licking your lips, you shuffled down his thighs until you were sitting by his knees, moving where you had been holding the candle. When Ian noticed where you were holding the candle, his gasped hungrily, audible gulping as your eyes met, your eyes asking if he wanted it.

Ian couldn’t have nodded any faster, his lip quivering and deep red from where he had been biting at it. You weren’t gonna drip it right on his dick, you didn’t feel comfortable to do that, but you started dripping wax near it. On his stomach near the tip, downwards on his abdomen beside his length, the flashes of heat from the wax leaving Ian keening as his legs grew more and more restless.

One line of wax across the inside of his thigh seemed to be what kicked off over the edge, white shooting from his tip and covering the layer of green wax covering his torso, the white standing out starkly against the deep green. His legs twitched and jolted under you, but he wasn’t able to move them too much as you were still seated on him, but the huffed moans that left him made it clear just how much he enjoyed it.

Putting the candle away to the side, you rubbed your hands across the outer side of his thighs as he laid there shivering and twitching softly, basking in the flash of orgasm for as long as possible, before he went limp against the bed, his eyes shut and mouth open as he breathed softly.

You leaned down to kiss his wax covered chest before you got to your feet, undoing the bindings holding his arms in place as you kissed his forehead, letting him softly grab the back of your head to pull you into a slow and deep kiss. You mumbled against his lips that you’d be right back, meeting his eyes as you pulled away from the kiss, his pupils blown wide and expression soft and so in love it almost made your teeth ache.

As you grabbed what you needed to clean up your shared experience from the bathroom, you couldn’t help but decide it hadn’t been as bad as you thought. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, and seeing how Ian had reacted you most definitely wanted to do it again, and you had a feeling Ian wouldn’t have anything against that either.