#motorcycle boots for ladies

[adalynnlove]

Night Ride - Sponsored by Flourish + WOW Skins + Blue SL Event

This photo is sponsored by:**FLOURISH:https://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Spellbound%20Downtown/64/184/1227**Wow Skins::.:https://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Vintage%20Romance/158/113/1588**BLUE SL EVENT:https://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/BLUE%20EVENT/144/114/2811 FROM FLOURISH:Lush Poses – xXRiderxXx – Female Bento Pose Pack & Props—>Available at Flourish Even through Oct.…

[leathercollectionus]

Yellow Motorcycle Boots Miguel Oliviera Winter Test 2022

Miguel Oliviera Yellow Motorcycle Boots are the replicas of those boots worn by him in the MotoGP 2022 Winter Test and have particular features concerning the rider’s foot safety.

Yellow Motorcycle Boots Miguel Oliviera Winter Test 2022

[sirfrogsworth]

sirfrogsworth please i am begging to know your boomer uncle’s thought process when he installed all those spam search bars what on earth was he TRUING to do

This was my Uncle Larry. He died in 2014 from a lifetime of smoking.

But while he was alive, he was what my grandma would refer to as "a character."

I feel like seeing his photo gives a partial explanation of the toolbar fiasco.

He was a man stuck in the 1960s but extremely curious about new things.

It was the early 2000s and I was trying to make some extra money. So when he was interested in getting a computer I offered to build him one from scratch.

What I didn't consider about this arrangement was that I was basically signing up to be my uncle's IT person. If something went wrong, it could possibly be due to a mistake I made.

He called me up complaining he couldn't see his websites and that the computer was running slower than normal.

I boot up his system and it takes 10 minutes to get to Windows. The desktop was filled with random programs he installed. And when I opened his web browser I was immediately greeted with a dozen pop up advertisements. Once I nuked them all, all of the different search toolbars were revealed. There was maybe a few inches of space for viewing websites and he had just been looking at photos a segment at a time for weeks before wondering if maybe it wasn't supposed to work like that.

I asked him why he installed all of this crap and he told me he didn't realize he had a choice. He just thought you had to say yes to everything that popped up on the screen. He also opened every spam email he received.

To make matters even worse, when he was searching for lewd pictures of Catherine Bell (aka the "JAG lady" with nice cans), he ended up on various softcore porn sites containing ever more dangerous pop up ads. And he clicked on all of those as well.

He loved the internet. It was a wonderland for such a curious person. He loved typing in random things and just reading and looking at pictures for hours. Aside from Maxim photos of TV celebrities, his searches were pretty innocent. He looked at old cars he used to own and lawnmowers he wanted to buy. He read old war stories and found websites helping him learn how to whittle walking sticks.

But he had no sense of danger. He had a Leroy Jenkins approach to life. He just sort of jumped into whatever without any fear or caution. Which is probably why my parents were so pissed at him when he offered 8 year-old me a ride on his new motorcycle. He immediately took me off-road and up a steep hill without a helmet or telling me to hold on. And it was a Harley, so not really meant for that terrain.

I tried a virus scan and it just said "You have every virus." So I had to nuke his Windows install from orbit. I then gave him computer lessons, which he paid me for, so that sort of worked out despite how frustrating it was to keep him from clicking on random things.

Uncle Larry taught me an important lesson.

Never tell your family you know about computers.

[genderlessghoul]

I've been wanting to do this post for a while now so here is EVERYTHING I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE GHOULS' IMPERA COSTUMES.

Buckle up because I have a LOT to say about those, this is gonna be a very long one.

The costumes were designed by B Åkerlund, a Swedish costume designer who's worked with Ghost since at least Meliora (that's as far back as I was willing to scroll on her Instagram page lol). B Åkerlund has also worked for many other musical artists such as Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Madonna, the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osborne, Blink 182 and Hollywood Undead (information from her own website)

The masks were made by Bob Basset, a visual artists who works a lot with leather. I find his work fascinating, you can look him up on Instagram (nsfw warning, there's a few naked ladies).

Fun fact! The horns are real cow horns. That's the reason some of them have gold tips, to hide the imperfections that come with working with actual horns.

He does have a shop where he sells his items, there's a mask there very similar to the Impera ones. You can also buy Papa's batwings if you happen to have 2500$ lying around!

The jackets are made on the same model as one of Papa's. The back is decorated with a spine-like design made from leather and cording. It's adorned with a few of our classic Impera buttons. Some of the hems were left raw and some deliberate weathering was done to make it look old and worn.

Fun fact! The shoulder pieces are not sewn into the garment, I would assume for easier cleaning. I don't know if they're held by strong magnets or snap buttons.

The vest (my beloved 😩) is made from flocked velvet in a paisley pattern, the front hems embellished with satin piping. It closes in the front with custom metal clasps that are riveted into the garment. The D parts are attached with what seems to me like wide elastic, which would lessen the pression on the clasps when moving around a lot. The back is made from two different types of fabric, I'd have to touch it to be able to tell you what they are. I assume the panels closer to the sides have some mild stretch to them. The top of the shoulders are decorated with Impera grucifix patches.

The shirts were not custom made for the ghouls, altho they were altered. The original shirt in the vintage painter linen shirt from Punk Rave and it is still being sold. Some of the cuffs were altered, removing the ruffles for some of the ghouls, but not all. They were removed for Dew, Mountain and Phantom, Aether's didn't have them either. As far as I can tell, all the ghoulettes still have them.

An unfinished piece of linen serves as an ascot, that piece is decorated with a metal devil skull. The colour of the skull doesn't appear to be consistent between each ghoul, Dew's looks gold almost bronze while Phantom's is a silver-like colour.

Another modification is the buttons, a small portion of them were removed in favor of our Impera buttons. Some of the ghouls have more buttons replaced than others, which is still a mystery to me.

The pants are called Jodhpurs, they were invented in the 1800s as horse riding pants. The wide part at the hips and thighs allowing for better movement. The ones the ghouls wear don't reach all the way to their ankles, they stop a bit past the calf muscle, hidden by the boots. (Yes, the ghouls are effectively wearing capri pants)

The boots are motorcycle riding boots, decorated by a grucifix. Like the shirt, they can still be bought online through the All American Boots website, altho the price tag is... Headache inducing to say the least.

The cape is a piece of costume that was only briefly worn on stage by the ghouls, Aurora being the only one who still wears one. I would assume it gets in the way of playing very easily. The cape itself is made of two fabrics, a light blue satin and a dark grey suede. The two pieces are not sewn together at the bottom, they move freely from each other. The cape is attached on the left shoulder with a harness piece that has one strap across the chest, decorated with a metal buckle, and one under the armpit.

Aight that's it for me, have a nice day byyyyye!!

[drabblesandimagines]

Crash

Leon Kennedy x female reader, established relationship

The sidewalk feels cold beneath your thighs as you stare blankly into your lap, your breaths heavy, struggling through a tight chest. You’re sat cross-legged, like a child - the nice, elderly lady had encouraged you to sit down, said you were looking pale. She’d definitely meant for you to take a seat on the bench a few steps away, but you’d just dropped, seemingly forgetting how to get from standing to sitting in any sort of graceful manner.

She’d smiled sympathetically then, offered you some candy from the bottom of her purse – kept a stash in there for her grandchildren - said you needed sugar for the shock. But you’d shook your head, feeling sick at the notion of eating anything. She asked if there was anyone she could call whilst waiting for the first responders.

You’d put your hand in your jacket pocket for your phone at her question – relieved it’s in one piece, not smashed up like the hunk of metal just out of eyeshot. You don’t remember calling Leon’s number, but you must have because now your phone’s up against your ear.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He answers after only four rings, though his voice is hushed - maybe ducked out of the room to answer. “Can I call you back in 20? Just wrapping up something here.”

“I-crashed-the-car.” You blurt out, the words running into one another. It’s not technically true, you were crashed into but this seems easier for now.

“What?” His volume amps way up and your stomach twists with the change, unsure of the implications – is he mad? Upset?

You were borrowing his car. Yours was in the garage, the brake discs needed replaced and would take a couple of days to get the parts in. You’d planned to take city transport but Leon insisted you take his car - arguing it was winter, that it gets dark so early and the idea of you walking to and from the bus stop on your own isn’t one he wants to entertain. You don’t live in a terrible neighbourhood, but you don’t have to be for monsters to be roaming the streets, after all. Plus, it made sense for him to ride his bike to HQ whilst you borrowed his SUV and he wouldn’t have to worry, have one less thing on his plate… ..or so had been the idea. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m so sorry,” you don’t even take in his questions, really. “They came out of nowhere and…“ Your breath hitches in your throat, a sob building up and threatening to overflow.

“Baby,” his tone is firm, “are you hurt?”

You can hear his shoes slapping against the floor as he begins to run, though it sounds too hard a sole for his boots... No, that’s right, he went out in a suit this morning – leather jacket on top, motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm, still made the whole ensemble look good albeit it being mismatched.

“No…” That’s not true - there’s blood, and it has to be yours, but you feel numb of any sort of pain. “I don’t know.“ Your voice cracks again. “That’s okay,” he soothes, barging through a door with his shoulder. “We’ll work it out.” Nearly takes a woman out the other side with how hard the door slams against the wall, mutters half an apology as he darts around her. “Are you still in the car?” You turn to look at Leon’s black SUV laying on its side, the under carriage on full display – not the way a car should be. The driver’s side is against the concrete. You’d climbed out the passenger side, somehow, having to fight gravity itself to get the door to open, clambered up and over the leather seats. Should you have done that, or should you have stayed put? You’d just wanted out from the metal box – the windscreen was a spiderweb of cracks, creaking like it would explode in shards at any moment. “N-no, I’m on the sidewalk.”

“Okay, good. Ambulance on its way?” He’s reached the elevator, mashes the down button like it will make it accelerate to his floor any faster than usual. He feels awful that he’s interrogating you, but his training has kicked in - gather as much intel as possible – and he needs the facts.

“Yeah. Police too.” A few cars had stopped after. Someone said they were calling 911, another saying they got some of the license plate, the old lady and her purse full of candy. The other car drove off, tyres burnt with how fast they fled the scene.

“Good. That’s good, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay. Can you tell me where you are? What street you’re on?”

“Erm…” You look round, but in the shock nothing looks familiar, though it must be a route you’d driven down hundreds of times before. “I was on the way home from work, so, I’m, erm…”

“That’s all right.” He can hear the tightness in your voice, knows you’re not thinking clearly and so he changes tact. “Is anyone nearby that you could ask?” He hits the elevator button again, swears it’s been on floor 12 for far longer than necessary. Come on.

The elderly lady comes back to mind – she must’ve stepped back to give you privacy when you’d pulled your phone out. “There’s someone.”

“Great. Can you ask them where you are?”

“Yeah…” You pull the phone down from your ear, looking around to find she’s not gone far at all, hovering a few metres away. “Excuse me, where are we? Sorry.” The apology slips out, feeling more of a nuisance to her than you’d already been.

“16th Street, dearie.” She smiles, keeps her tone gentle. “Just near Jack’s Groceries.”

The elevator finally arrives – empty - and Leon positions himself between the doors, aware that his reception might drop when he starts to head down to the garage and he can’t leave you on a dial tone.

“Thank you.” You force a smile in return, hold the phone back up to your ear. “16th Street, near the grocery store, Jack’s - it’s the one with those chips you like?”

He smiles at that – it’s not your usual place to shop, but you go there sometimes to pick them up for him ‘just cos’. “I’m on my way, sweetheart. Can you call or text me if you go anywhere else?”

“Y-yeah.” You take another shuddering breath, dig your nails into the palm of your hand. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

He steps into the elevator fully, double taps the button for the garage before assaulting another to close the doors. He hopes no-one tries to grab it on the way down, cos he won’t be able to hide his irritation.

“Nothing to apologize for. Everything’s going to be okay. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

“See you soon.”

He hears the beep, signaling the call is cut off and takes a grounding breath, though his foot taps impatiently as the elevator continues to descend. He scrolls down his contacts, thumb poised to dial as soon as the doors open again.

“Leon,” Hunnigan sounds surprised to receive his call, probably cos he’s in the same building as her and usually swung by the office if he was after something. “To wha-“

“I need a car.” He cuts across her, heading over to where the company vehicles are kept. “Any car - I’m in the garage already.”

“Right. Why?” He feels a smidge of relief when he hears her begin to type.

“Please - just give me anything. I don’t care what, I just need to go.”

There’s the clunk of a lock down the line of vehicles, a black estate vehicle’s lights flashing. “Bay C3. Keys in the sun visor as usual. Tell me later.”

“I will. Thank you.”

 --

Leon drives a little faster than he should, but it still feels like hours until he reaches his destination. There’s a couple of cop cars blocking one of the lanes, red and blues flashing, an officer stood diverting traffic around the closure and another manning the perimeter. He pulls up behind the cars and hops out, scanning for you.

There’s an ambulance parked up in the lane and his heart skips a beat when he sees you sat on the steps, a cop on one side, a paramedic waiting behind in the wings. There’s one of those silver foil emergency blankets draped around your shoulders and you look so goddamn small.

He starts to jog over, intent on getting to your side as soon as possible, when the cop manning the perimeter sidesteps in front of him, holding his hands up to get him to stop.

“Sir, I need you to stay ba-“

Leon flashes his ID in his face – it’s not something he likes to do and so he rarely does it, but he doesn’t have time to put on the charm. “Agent Leon Kennedy. That’s my girlfriend over there – I need to get through.”

The cop steps back and Leon feels weirdly grateful for once for the DSO.

As he gets closer, his eyes narrow at the fact that they’re making you blow into a breathalyzer. He clenches his fist then - you’re bleeding and they’re accusing you of drink-driving?! He wants to give them what for, but then he sees the way you’re shaking and knows him storming into the scene ready to blow is not going to help, especially with how apologetic you’d been on the phone.

He forces himself to stop a moment and breathes deeply again. You’re shook up, but you’re in one piece, conscious and that’s the most important thing.

“Thank you, ma’am.” The officer nods, noting down the reading as Leon walks over, catching the tail-end of the conversation. “Nothing to worry about there. I’ll just go update the control room – it won’t be long.”

“Leon,” you stand abruptly at the sight of him as the cop steps off to the side and the foil blanket slips off your shoulders, gauze taped on multiple parts of your arms. You’re trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come here,” Leon wraps his arms around you, coaxing you into his chest. He wants to squeeze tight, to confirm what he’s seen with his eyes, that you’re real and whole, but he doesn’t want to aggravate any injuries so he’s careful, pressing a kiss to your crown. “Don’t apologise, sweetheart. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You’re not, but maybe if you say it to Leon it’ll make it real. There’s a horrible burning sensation in your chest. You want to cry, but not here, not in front of everyone.

“Sorry, ma’am, can I get you to take a seat again?” The paramedic interrupts, emergency blanket back in hand. “I won’t be long, sir. I just need to check a couple more things.”

“No, of course.” He presses another kiss to your forehead and guides you back to the steps, encouraging you to sit and takes the blanket from the paramedic’s hand to drape back over you. “I’ll be right over there, okay? I’m just gonna go have a word with the officer.”

“Okay, yeah.”

He steps aside so the paramedic can move in and waits for the officer to come off the radio, approaching and offering his hand. “Leon Kennedy. I’m her boyfriend.”

“I gathered.” He shakes it. “Officer Jacobs. It was your car she was driving?”

“Mm-hm.” He keeps half an eye on you as he sees the paramedic shine a flashlight in your eyes, getting you to follow his finger. “What happened?”

The cop consults his notepad, flipping through his notes. “A witness stated another SUV-type vehicle went through the red light at some speed. Said it had been driving erratically for a while, so I’m figuring drunk-driver. T-boned, sent your SUV spinning and flipped onto its side after it collided with the lamp-post. The other vehicle stopped for five seconds or so, then gunned it. I’ve got dispatch sending a description out for the highway patrols. Partial registration but it’s gonna have damage, I’m sure, so should be easy to spot if it’s still in transit.”

Leon swallows, taking all the information in.

“How lucky do you think she was?”

“Truthfully,” the cop scratches his day-old stubble, looking between the SUV and you, “I think if she’d been in a different car than that, we’d be having a very different and difficult conversation right now.”

Leon’s fists clench. He’s encountered unspeakable horrors too often in his time, but the idea that some drunken jerk could just get behind the wheel and end your life is more terrifying than anything he’s ever faced. His thoughts swirl down a dangerous drain - wonders if Hunnigan can grab the partial registration from the cops, run it through her software and find the culprit, or trawl the CCTV cameras for a screengrab. He’d show up at their door, or maybe wait for them in the parking lot, revving his own engine, scare them the way they’ve traumatized you and-

“Sir?”

The thought extinguishes as he realizes the cop is offering him a slip of paper.

“Case number. We’ve got her details and we’ll be in touch if we hear anything, but just in case either of you want to follow anything up.”

“Got it.” He nods, taking it and popping it into his wallet. “Thanks.”

--

Leon wants to take you straight home – he’s got a substantial first aid kit there that’ll do the trick on the cuts that need stitching – but, honestly, you need a proper check-up and only the emergency room will do.

You’d required a few stitches from where you’d been caught by the glass from the driver’s window and bruises had started to develop, specially from where the seatbelt had jerked at the impact, but the overall prognosis was positive – you’d be sore for a few weeks, that was for sure, but armed with some painkillers and some rest, you’d be fine.

Leon doesn’t think he’s ever driven quite so carefully the way he drove to and from the emergency room. Not that will help against other assholes on the road, but he’ll be damned if he does anything that means he has to slam on the brakes and give you a fright. You’ve been silent most of the time – silent on the drive, silent in the waiting room, answering the doctor’s questions in a quiet, unsure voice, and then silent again on the drive home. He’d placed a cautious hand on your knee, squeezing it in reassurance, meaning to draw it away but you’d placed your hand on top of it, looping your fingers through his.

He pulls into the parking lot, gives your hand one last squeeze and hops out, dashing around so he can help you out the vehicle. Leon can read you like a book, he knows you’re holding it together until you get inside – you know you are too.

The elevator is mercifully sat on the ground floor when the two of you enter the lobby and Leon keeps you close as you ride up to the 12th floor and the safety of the apartment.

“Can we sit?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” He sits down on the sofa first and you drop yourself down onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. It’s only a second before you burrow your head under his chin and, with a heaving breath, finally let out a proper sob - releasing everything you’ve held in for the last few hours. You feel stupid, annoyed, frightened, sore, relieved – too many emotions to keep track of.

He wraps his arms around you in turn, pressing a long kiss to your temple, tears burning at his own eyes.

In that moment, it hits Leon in the gut that he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, what he would have done if you hadn’t come home that night. If he’d have to come back to the apartment and not find your shoes kicked off at the door at the end of the long day, the glass with the lipstick smear on the rim near the sink from the water you’d gulp down greedily whilst making dinner.  It’s not like he takes you for granted by any means. He feels lucky every morning when he gets to wake up next to you in bed, and every night when he climbs back in, wrapping his arms around you. He’ll never let the two of you go to sleep or part ways if you’ve had harsh words or a full blown argument as all couples do, not with the risk his line of work brings, the threat that he could be called away in the middle of the night and have to bid goodbye to a turned back.

He rubs his hand gently up and down your back then, tears silently rolling down his face as he takes you all in, relishes your warmth as he cradles you in his lap.

“I’m so sorry.” You hiccup, your sobs eventually ceasing into sniffles, but still you kept your face pressed into his chest, seeking the comfort of his smell – the faint cologne and natural musk that was so uniquely Leon.

“You did nothing wrong, you hear me?” He mumbles into your crown. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Is the car a complete write-off?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” He gently lifts your left hand, presses a kiss across your knuckles. “I love you, baby. So much.”

“Love you too.”  

The day after the next – he negotiated a personal day to spend doting on you, breakfast in bed, cuddles on the sofa, takeaway for dinner – Leon goes out and buys a ring.

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[pinkmelodie]

The Red Means I Love You ❤︎

Summary: Jason Todd x fem!Reader. You and Jason used to date before you left to stay with the Titans. You both miss each other more than you’d like to admit, but stay out of contact. Fast forward to after he died, you encounter Redhood. Old feeling stir, and before you know it you’re bent over the motorcycle of someone you swore you’d leave in the past.

Warnings: Angst -> smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected s$x, mentions of death & terrorism.

A/N: This takes place right after s3ep2, right after they find out Redhood’s identity :3

You didn’t fully know what was happening; just that there were too many hostages in the building—all who would be killed if not evacuated immediately. You were about to run and help the rest of the titans get everyone as far away as possible before Kory pulled you aside.

You went to protest before she quickly interrupted you, “Go search for Jason.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uhm, what?”

“Look, I have a feeling he’ll listen to you better than anyone.” she said. “Jasons not someone who can be brought down by force. Shit, he came back from the fucking dead, you think he’s gonna let us beat this new…phase out of him?” 

You wanted to argue, but Kory wasn’t someone who was wrong often. She had a good point, and you knew you had to follow it.

“We’ve got this under control,” she assured, resting a reassuring but firm hand on your shoulder. “Go.”

You were skeptical, especially when you could see Gar in the distance shaking in his boots trying to convince an old lady to let him help her down the steps, and citizens clearly getting whiplash from Connor moving them to safety too fast. Your team was…definitely something, but with some hesitance you finally turned and ran in the direction of the one member you wanted to see.

…

“Jason!” You called out, your voice echoing through the barren alley. Gotham was creepy enough already without walking in some sketchy, busted up route in the pitch dark.

You kept calling but the only response you got was your own voice echoing back to you. You tried to scratch your mind for something to say that could persuade him, but you came up blank. Guilt ate at your conscience when you remembered that you hadn’t spoken to him for months before he died. 

To be honest, Jason never had anyone in his life to begin with. He told you that along with all his other secrets, and you still broke his heart. 

You stayed with the titans, thinking he was being naive for not wanting to. You didn’t think about the fact they never once tried to help him, or ever see him as more than an immature kid. They didn’t have the energy to help Jason through his issues so they just abandoned ship, sending him right back to Bruce and his horrible coping mechanisms.

As much as you wanted to be angry at Dick, or Kory or really anyone else for letting that happen, you had to face that you played your part.

Jason Todd died alone. He died feeling like no one would miss him, like he was a failure of a Robin and a failure of a titan. Because even after everything, all he wanted to do was prove himself.

So, yeah. Admittedly the first words you chose to say were not a good idea. Probably should’ve seen that one coming, but you never were too good at comforting him. was anyone?

“It didn’t have to be like this, you can still come back to the titans!” You tried to coax him, almost immediately regretting it. You quickly shut your mouth, tho the damage was already done. You just prayed he wasn’t here—he didn’t need to be provoked into blowing your brains out. 

Only when your muscles stopped tensing and you thought you got lucky, a voice you couldn’t even recognize rumbled above you. It shot ice up your veins and you would’ve frozen in place if you weren’t so adiment on seeing him again.

“Still taking about the titans? Why am I surprised.” He taunted, tilting his head in a gesture so familiar it made your heart ache. When you spun around you were met with someone you couldn’t believe was really Jason. He was standing on some rusted fire escape, a steel red mask boring right through you. 

You tensed, but not out of fear. No, you could never be scared of Jason, not the same nerd who woke up early to make you breakfast or who secretly wore reading glasses. 

You debated messaging him for months after your breakup, paragraphs on paragraphs you never sent. You had so much to say to him before, so why now did your mind go blank?

It was hard to see what he was feeling with the mask, but you could tell he was expecting a snarky remark back. When you just stood there dumbfounded, he sighed. “Look, I’m done trying to prove myself to them. To Bruce, to everyone! I don’t have to be some fucking nobody y/n, and neither do you.”

Now that made you snap out of whatever trance you were in. “‘and neither do you’? What are you trying to do, advertise me the life of crime?”

He groaned, “I don’t know why I ever tried with you. The titans are just a bunch of fucked up people acting like one big happy family, is that what you wanted? Are you happy you made that choice?” He sneered.

There was malice in his tone, but it wasn’t real. he didn’t feel angry anymore, just betrayed.

He would’ve splayed his heart out for you on a silver platter if you asked, just for you to turn your back on him. You followed him in his dreams, haunted him every time he smelt a familiar perfume, even appeared behind his shut eyelids while the life drained out of him. You were a part of him, and from what he knew you’d never looked back when you stormed out that day.

That’s why it shocked him when tears started to well in your eyes. God, your eyes—the ones he would subconsciously buy clothes of in the same colour. “You could’ve came with me,” you whispered. 

Your meek tone broke something in him. His shoulders relaxed and in a blink he leaped down, knees bending upon landing on the hard ground in front of you. Seeing him like this; the mask concealing his identity, various weapons strapped to his thighs and seemingly more toned than the last time you saw him—you could understand why everyone was on edge.

He stood there motionless, a silent and intimidating presence before you. You both stood there in unbearable silence until finally, he lifted his mask off.

His features were lit beautifully by the dim street light, eyes glinting ever so slightly. He looked exhausted—more troubled now, but you knew, despite everything, this was Jason. Your Jason, not who he was manipulated into.

“No, I couldn’t have.” he muttered begrudgingly, “they made that very clear.”

“So what, you just become a terrorist? Is that your idea of solving your problems?”

His fists clenched in barely concealed anger. “Bruce couldn’t save Gotham, so he abandoned it. I’ll be the one to fix it.” 

“By running around in a new suit and planting bombs everywhere? Real great strategy.” You rolled your eyes, but started to blush when you stared at him too long in the plated suit that fit him perfectly. You quickly caught yourself ogling and looked away, assuming he wouldn’t catch the red tinge on your face. 

You don’t know how you ever thought he wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed, it’s Jason Todd.

For fucks sake, the guy noticed every detail about you. The way you’d avoid eye contact when nervous, the pace of your blinking quickening when you were lost in thought, the slight heighten of your voice when you were excited about something. All these tiny things and you thought he just wouldn’t notice the way you eyed him down all red in the face?

Come on, you were basically writing your true feelings out to him in big, bold… ..red letters…

and it’s not like Kory ever specified exactly what to do once you found him… .. .

So that’s how you ended up bent against his motorcycle in some busted up alleyway, pussy spread open on his dick.

You gasped and clawed pointlessly at his covered back; nails clinking uselessly against the metal armour of his suit. 

Your own suit was pulled off just enough to get access to your cunt, panties pulled to the side so he could plunge his thick cock into you.

He was groaning more than he used to, and you could swear you even heard him whine. His pace was ruthless, thrusts messy but coordinated. He kept trying to push further inside you, pressing his body as close to you as possible like you would vanish at any moment. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he rambled. Death heightened all of his senses—made things have so much more of an impact on him. Maybe he just missed you too much, or maybe he let himself forget how good you feel.

To be fair, you were far worse off than him. You would’ve alerted everyone in Gotham if he wasn’t covering your mouth with a gloved hand, though it’s not like anyone here would bat an eye to screaming.

“My poor baby just been lonely, s’that it?”He teased, manhandling you by your hips to meet his harsh thrusts. 

“Nobody to fill up this pretty hole like I do, such a shame,” he pouted in faux sympathy, as if he wasn’t balls deep at the moment.

“I’m back now. Fuck the titans, I’ve always treated you better, haven’t I?” He’s fucking your ability to form coherent words right out of your throat, but he knows your answer when you squeeze around him.

“Jay!” you moaned into his palm. Your cunt was squelching embarrassingly loud with each thrust, thighs shaking so hard you for sure would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up. Every drag of his cock in you hit the perfect spots, just like he remembered you love.

“You don’t even care that I’m red hood, do you?” he asked, his tone full of confidence. “Nah, you don’t. So fucking wet, does my suit get you off princess?” 

He moved his hand to play with your clit, getting it soaked with your fluids. You were too cock-drunk to lie bite back, just nodding desperately and mewling out something akin to a yes.

He smirked. “Pussys sucking me in the same too, fuck- I missed this. I missed you.”

He acted cocky when he was fucking you like this because it’s the only way he was sure you even wanted to be around him. Not much to complain about when his big dick is ravaging you, no?

Deep down he always felt right at home with you. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would give up red hood for you. He’d give up anything for you, actually. Nothing mattered as long as you were with him. And he wasn’t letting you go this time.

With the ministrations on your clit and him pounding into you, it wasn’t a surprise when that knot in your stomach came undone quickly. Especially not with how many failed orgasms you had with your fingers, pretending it was him.

Ever attentive, he noticed immediately. “You gonna come, baby? Try not to get any on the new suit.” He winked, as if you were gonna squirt for him. (You have, many times.)

The cherry on top was when he unexpectedly flipped his mask back down and leaned in to whisper right into your ear with that deep voice, “come for me”

And you were gone. You came with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling. Your pussy gushed all over his dick, forming a white ring around it that you could see every time he slammed his hips.

Seeing your pretty face so euphoric was what sent him over the edge, and grudgingly he pulled out, pearly white cum shooting all over your stomach.

You spent a minute regaining your breath while he pressed gentle kisses all over your throat. He only let up when you whined at the slight pain of the pressure on your newly forming hickeys. He tucked himself back into his pants and re-adjusted his belt. You were wondering if he planned on just leaving until he took his coat off and wrapped it around you.

He moved you so you were set down properly on the back of his motorcycle and then stepped on. You instinctively laid against his back, resting your head on his shoulder and he admired you with pure adoration.

���Wrap your arms around me babe,” he hummed, affectionately rubbing your thigh that was pressed to his.

When your brain finally caught up to what was happening you gave him a confused look.“Wha- wait! Where are we going?” 

He looked at you like you were crazy for even questioning it. “Home,” he laughed, “what? Did you think death was gonna do us part, baby?”

[austinbsblog]

The Winner Takes It All

(Benny Cross x Fem!Vandal!Reader)

Warnings: Smoking, alcohol, language, mention of breasts, kissing

A/N: I loved this anon request! It was so fun to write and get to experiment with a confident character. If you wish to see the request scroll down on my page!

•

•

•

As you and Benny made your way to the bar, the rumble of his motorcycle reverberated through your body, filling you with a sense of exhilaration. You held onto him tightly, feeling the rush of wind as your hair flowed behind you, the streets blurring into streaks of light and color. You nestled your chin on his shoulder, the curve of his leather jacket providing a sense of security as you leaned into the ride. The heady scent of gasoline, cigarette smoke, and his cologne mingled in the air, creating an intoxicating aroma that filled your senses. With each breath, the familiar yet thrilling scent enveloped you, triggering a rush of anticipation and comfort. It was a scent that belonged solely to Benny. The warmth of his body pressed against yours provided a stark contrast to the cool night air.

•

•

•

As you approached the bar, the lively sounds of the Vandals' loud laughter, clinking bottles, and soft rock music from the jukebox filled the air. Benny turned off the engine and steadied the bike with a kick of his boot, allowing you to dismount safely. "Thanks, Benny, I really appreciate it," you said, slipping off your leather jacket to reveal a black off-the-shoulder top. Leaning against the bike, Benny watched as you retrieved your lipstick tube and mirror from your pocket and applied a deep red color. "Of course, Baby," he teased, knowing well that you weren't a fan of the nickname. Being the youngest among the Vandals, you had unwittingly acquired the name "Baby" and it has stuck ever since. Benny often wished he could call you his, but his attempts to express his feelings were always met with your captivating gaze that left him feeling bashful. "Come on," you teased, impatiently tugging at his hand, "You're taking forever," as you playfully dragged him into the bar.

•

•

•

The dimly lit space is filled with a fog of smoke and Vandals taking over every inch. Johnny is the first to see the both of you and his eyes light up at the sight of your hands clasped with one another, “Baby!” Johnny announces and everyone’s eyes snap to the door. Your smile grows wide as everyone exclaims about your presence, gives you hugs, or kisses your cheeks. The pull of the crowd causes Benny to lose you in the crowd and watch you interact from afar. “Today the day kid?” Johnny asks as Benny slides into the seat at the table, Benny just smiles and stares at you with a look of tenderness while you nurse a drink and tell some story to a group gathered around you exuding confidence and boldness that captivated everyone's attention. "Listen, kid, I'm telling you if you don't gather up the nerve to ask her out soon, someone else is going to sweep her off her feet, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life," Johnny muttered, the end of his cigarette glowing softly. "Remember how quickly I married Betty? That's because I saw in her what you see in Baby," he added taking a drag. “You getting soft on me?” Benny questioned, and Johnny just gave him a look. “Fine…yeah yeah okay, I’ll do it,” Benny said getting up from the table. Johnny lifted his eyebrow and tapped his watch signaling to Benny that time was ticking and you weren’t going to wait very long. 

•

•

•

Benny's eyes studied the pool table and lined up his cue, taking the shot. Come on’s, damns, and shits were shouted from the surrounding players as they put their money on the table. Benny chuckled at the cries knowing that they lost. “My my boys, is that how you speak in front of a lady?” you ask from behind Benny, your heels clicking louder as you approach the table. Your hands leaned against the table allowing the men to get a view of your defined collarbones and top of your breasts. “Hm, I see Benny beat all you fools, well, let’s see if you can beat me,” you challenge, as you glance up at Benny, take the cigarette from his lips, and place them between yours. The men put their new bets on the table and chalk up the ends of their cues. '`You playin’?” you whispered to Benny, “No I’ll watch Baby,' ' he responded, “Alright,” you sighed. All of a sudden a 50 dollar bill gleamed on top of the pile, and everyone went silent. Your eyes followed the hand and leather-clad arm up to a handsome man you had never seen staring right at you. Two other men in leather jackets with a devil on the back were on each side of him with their cues, “Well hi there, I’m Baby” your voice is sultry as you greet them, “Hello… Baby,” the man responded with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m Michael, this is James and Christopher” he says pointing to the others. A moment passes before Michael says “Why don’t we make this a little more interesting gentlemen?” “What do you have in mind?” Danny says, cocking his head to the side, taking the cigarette, and blowing out the smoke, “Whoever wins, takes the money and her on a date,” Michael suggests with a smirk on his face tracing your body with his eyes. “She’s not an item to be bought…or sold” Benny argued while staring at Michael with cold eyes, “Okay, then just a date,” Michael countered and leaned in. All eyes were shifting between Benny who had a cool gaze and Michael who had a smirk plastered on his face. “And, if I win,” you paused, “I get the money,” you raised your eyebrow at the men having a staring contest. “Deal,” they said at the same time. 

•

•

•

It had been 30 minutes since the beginning of the game and 3 players were out. Benny and Michael were so concentrated on their scores and beating each other that they never realized you were winning significantly. Throughout the entirety of the game, Michael kept flirting with you to not only win you over but piss off Benny, and well, it worked. Benny was fuming like a bull. He couldn’t stand Michael treating you like an item, like some girl he could just fuck around with, you deserved better. When it was your turn, the balls were lined up perfectly for you to win. You smirk at the two men who were too busy giving each other death glares that when your stick hit the cue ball, you had won. The crowd’s roars and cheers for you caused Benny and Michael to snap their heads over to you. Your hand reached towards Danny who held the money, “Well Michael, tough game, better luck next time,” you snarkily said fanning yourself with the money, “He lost too,” Michael laughed as the crowd dispersed, “Did he though?” you smiled. Michael’s smile faltered at your question and Benny’s eyes widened as you walked over to his side. “He might have lost the game but, he sure as hell didn’t lose me, so thank you so much for your generous donation to our date,” you continued. You smile sweetly but with mischievous eyes as the trio walks away. “Come on, you gotta drive me home,” you say, taking Benny’s hand and once again dragging him out the front door. “Hold on, hold on,” Benny called out, “our date?” he said tugging at your hand so you were mere inches apart. “You think I wasn’t gonna go out on a date with you?” you gasped, “I didn’t… I… you like me?” Benny mumbled with a look of disbelief on his sculpted face. You put your hands on his face feeling the slight stubble and closed the gap between you. The kiss was passionate and made your stomach fill with butterflies as his hands enveloped your waist and rubbed the soft skin showing between your top and denim jeans. You broke the kiss when you heard muffled whistles and laughter. You both turned your heads to the bar and saw the Vandals pressed against the windows and door. You pressed your foreheads together and sighed,  “Does that answer your question?” you giggled. Benny broke out into a smile before planting a small kiss on your red lips.

~V

[bellesdreamyprofile]

benny & y/n : the hospital (part 5)

Benny breathed in distress as he was pushed away by Cal. Comforting pats on the back to distract him from what he had done - to convince him not to continue on the already dead man’s body. He didn’t know if it was humanly possible to hold on to so much rage. Though that rage was mixed up with guilt and, despite him not knowing it yet, love.

He didn’t say a word to his friends and shrugged Cal’s arms off him. Reached for his pack of cigarettes and immediately lit one up. Smoke left his lips as his eyes caught sight of the mayhem before him. People running away and hopping on their motorcycle, moving away before the cops showed up.

Benny took his time as he let the past hour flash before his eyes. Your eyes, oh your beautiful eyes. The twinkle in them as he revealed his soft side to you. Your laugh at his lame, flirtatious pick up lines. The things he would do for an innocent kiss.

His feet carried him to the spot where Kathy’s truck was parked and looked around once he realized they had all left. He jogged to his motorcycle and hopped on, quickly kickstarting it. He didn’t know the destination, but he assumed that an anxious person like Kathy would immediately take her to the hospital.

Benny didn’t like hospitals. They simply asked too many questions - questions where the answer was too complicated.

He found a spot for his bike and ran to the hospital, ignoring the indecent looks people were giving him. The red and blue beatings you got from that piece of trash haunted him, making him an enemy to anybody who dared stay in his way.

Dirt leaving his boots, nurses throwing daggers at him. Breathless as he reached the reception. “Where’s Y/N Y/L/N ?”, the woman gave him an uninterested look and looked him up and down.

“What makes you think I will pass on sensitive information—“

Benny didn’t think. “I’m her husband.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your name, sir?”

“Benjamin Cross.”, he said quickly and looked left and right for possible sights of you. “She wanted to keep her last name. Something about her daddy.”

The woman’s eyebrow reached her forehead once more, before she let out a tired sigh. “She’s in room 102.”

Benny tapped his hands on the counter and ran off after muttering a quick thank you.

Soon enough he was standing in front of the room and was met by the girls he had seen you so often with. All sitting on the three lined up chairs by the corridor. The chick he had seen make out with every other guy at the club, the chick who had a crush on him and Kathy.

“Any news?”, he asked out of breath.

Kathy snapped her head towards him and blinked her tears away, standing up.

“Any news?”, she repeated in an incredulous tone. “Go look for yourself you son of a bitch.”, venom tainted her words as she sat down again. Kathy wasn’t angry. She was furious. How could you have given a guy like him a chance to your beautiful heart?

Benny sighed and moved closer to the window separating the two of you. He didn’t really know what heartbreak was and there it lied. A beautiful angel with ugly marks on your face. He felt something twitch inside him, a sensation he wasn’t familiar with. He took a step back and let out a shaky breath.

“I, uh… I’ll be right back.”, unbeknownst to him, Kathy was burning holes on his back.

Tears. Burning, wet tears ran down his cheeks as soon as the bathroom door closed. Oh, you son of a bitch you caused this.

He looked in the mirror and fought the urge to punch it. But no, he couldn’t self sabotage right now - not when you were in the situation you were in. Splashing water on his face, haunting words echoed in his head. Be a man. Be the man she needs.

“I’m sorry, you have to be Miss Y/L/N’s family in order to—“

“Is there a problem here, doctor?”

The doctor looked at Benny and sighed.

“Like I was explaining to these ladies here, you need to be immediate family to—“

“Alright, so you can give the information to me.”

The girls looked at him, wondering what the hell he was on about now.

“Sir, and you would be?”

“I’m her husband.”, at his words, the doctor didn’t argue for much longer and let him in your room.

Felicia stared wide eyed at the scene before her eyes. Her Benny? Married? To you?

Kathy was too busy staring daggers at Benny and his privilege, but Martha recognised Felicia’s gaze in a blink.

“Fel? A word?”, her friend blinked quickly and reluctantly stood up, walking away.

Martha grasped her arm, making her yelp.

“Ow!”

“It was you wasn’t it? Your obsession with Benny Cross needs to stop right now!”, Felicia had never seen her friend look as mad as she had right now.

Felicia rolled her eyes and looked away. “What the hell are you on about?”

“You know very well what I’m on about. That drunk guy on Y/N tonight?”, Martha lowered her tone to a mere whisper. “She’s our friend. Our sister. Sisters before misters.”

“You honestly would think I would send her off—“

“The point is, Fel, that you don’t seem to care!”, she huffed loudly. “Kat, me, even Benny fucking Cross are worried! Why do you not care?”

“Because you’re right! Okay?! You’re right, I’m in love with him a-and it was my love for him that led me to this okay?! Alright?! It wasn’t me—“

Martha’s eyes widened at her state. “Holy shit, so you did do it… What the—“, Felicia took off before she could add another word.

“Hey, honeybee.”, Benny’s fingers grazed your cheek in a loving way. Angel eyes closed and pink lips pressed softly together.

“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, honey. I’m a coward. I don’t deserve any of your kindness… Or love.”, he murmured, not wanting to wake you up. Benny was afraid of your reaction to his actions - to his words, to his lies. Could you look at him in the same way again? Would he still be lucky and get a soft kiss in between giggles?

But you didn’t react and his monologue went on even when the doctor walked in again, saying he had to leave.

His lips touched your forehead. “I’ll be back for you, baby.”

“There ain’t no rules about me waiting outside my wife’s room, right?”, Benny asked the moment he stepped foot outside. The doctor looked at him and sighed, shaking his head.

“No, sir. Though I will have to ask you fill out some forms first.”

Benny shrugged. “Fine by me.”

The doctor nodded and left. “I’ll be right back.”

“Really? Your wife, Benny?”, Kathy said, making him look over his shoulder.

“If I wasn’t her husband I wouldn’t have been able to get in there.”, he pointed at your room. “Isn’t that better than being kicked out for not being her family?”, Benny said, shrugging and took a seat beside her.

“It’s better than lying.”, she muttered in defeat. “And to a doctor!”

Benny looked at her and held back the urge to smile. “Who said we weren’t married?”, Kathy’s lips parted at his cocky question, but the doctor coming their way made Benny look away.

“Please fill out these forms, sir.”, he handed them to Benny. “And I will need one piece of identification.”, he hastily pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed the doctor his drivers license.

“I, uh, I need a pen?”, Benny looked up and the doctor froze for a moment before handing him his own from his front pocket. “Thanks.”

The man left once again and Benny positioned the papers on his thigh, filling out the document. “It’s like an exam. Except I know all the answers.”, he muttered under his breath. Kathy gave him an unimpressed look and rolled her eyes.

The afternoon passed and Kathy was forced to leave.

“You better call me if they got news on Y/N.”, she scolded him, making him tiredly nod.

“Yes ma’am.”, he replied and watched her go. Benny sighed and leaned his forearms on his knees, gaze down on his boots. Hours passed and his position changed to his back against the back of the chair and crossed arms to his chest.

A nurse walked by and tapped his shoulder repeatedly, making him lowly groan.

“Mr Cross? Your wife is awake.”, at her words, Benny’s eyes snapped open.

“Is she okay?”

The nurse smiled kindly and nodded. “She’s okay, sir. If you want, you may visit her.”, he stood up quickly and thanked her for the information.

Standing in front of your door, he sighed as a sudden anxiety overcame him. He knocked on the door and heard a faint come in.

Benny breathed out and opened the door.

“When they told me my husband was waiting for me, I thought I was hallucinating.”, you let out a little chuckle. Benny mimicked your action, relieved your first words to him weren’t hateful.

“It was the only way to stay here.”, he said softly and moved to sit on the chair beside your bed. “You feelin’ okay?”

You nodded and winced. “My head hurts a little, nothing else.”

An imaginary knife twisted in his heart. “I’m sorry to have put you in this position.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Benny gulped, looking down, unable to meet your gaze. “If I hadn’t called you… My friend… We wouldn’t be here talking about this.”

“You can’t be possibly blaming yourself for something you had no power over, Benny.”

“But it was in my power! If I had made it clear that you were mine, you—“

You shook your head at his words and interrupted him. “Putting a little label on me wouldn’t have changed anything. Please don’t think about what could’ve happened.”, your hand reached out to touch his. “It was meant to go like this, Benny.”

He was the one to disagree now. “That guy beat you red and blue. How can you say that.”, you dropped your hand to your stomach again and purposely turned your gaze in the other direction.

“Stop reminding me.”, you muttered.

“But it happened. And goddamn if I hadn’t—“

You slapped his arm at his raised tone and pointed a finger at him. “I dare you to say one more hateful thing about yourself.”

Benny’s eyes met your enraged ones, his lips let out a sigh he had been holding back for minutes. He reluctantly grabbed your hand again, a small smile now on your lips.

“I just… I’m sorry. But I made sure the guy got it worse.”

Your smile faded in a split second. “Oh Benny. What did you do?”

Benny simply shrugged and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothing.”, you closed your eyes and smiled a little at his sweet gesture. “It’s all gonna be alright.”

A/N: part 6 anybody?

MASTERLIST PART 6

Taglist: @leonesimp @cwallace02sblog @alexa4040 @notaceventura @wonderland2425

[marlequinncos]

Cosplay Build Guide: Marko's Jacket from The Lost Boys (1987)

I am a lover of the horror genre; horror movies, books, games, you name it! And one of my favorite horror movies is the 1987 classic “The Lost Boys”, which focuses on a gang of motorcycle-riding vampires in the fictional California town of Santa Carla. I'm also a big fan of thrifting and modifying items for cosplay. I decided to combine those two things and make a garment that has lived rent-free in my head since I first saw the film: the colorful patchwork jacket worn by the vampire Marko.

I'm going to walk you through how I made Marko's jacket, breaking down the different parts that comprise the garment.

Marko’s outfit is made up of several components: a white cropped tank top, light wash denim jeans, leather chaps, custom painted leather moto boots, fingerless motorcycle gloves, a black skull earring, and of course, that iconic and extremely loud jacket. 

All four titular vampires have a signature jacket they wear in the movie, and Marko’s is by far the most elaborate and distinctive. It consists of three main parts: the base jacket, the Italian tapestries, and the patches. Because of the nature of this build, I had to do a ton of intensive research to determine the individual and highly specific parts of the jacket. My main references were photos from movie memorabilia auction sites whenever one of the original jackets went up for sale, since they photograph the jacket from all angles.

Part 1: The Base Jacket

Marko’s base jacket is, according to my research, a men’s black Levi’s denim jacket in a size 40, which I believe translates to a medium. Now, I’m a petite woman (5’3”, athletic but slim), so I knew that the exact jacket would be too big for my frame. Instead, I found a men’s black denim jacket in an extra small; it's very similar in style to the original, but a little better proportioned for me. It's still very much oversized though. The first things I did were remove the buttons and pockets, and I cut off the hem of the jacket and the sleeve cuffs. Then I tossed the jacket in the washing machine to fray the edges. 

Part 2: The Tapestries

The hardest part of the jacket by far was finding the tapestries, for two reasons. The first is that the tapestries were all from the 1960’s and 1970’s, meaning I had to scour vintage stores and websites to find the right ones. The second is the variation. Six jackets were made for each Lost Boy in the movie; this is standard for a film, since some jackets would be used for closeups (the”hero” jackets) while others were used for stunts, and a few even have intentional holes in them for harness rigging. Because of that and the thrifted nature of the jacket, the Marko jackets for the film all differ slightly in the placement of the tapestries and patches.

There are five tapestries in total. Three are velvet: the matador, the peacock, and the leopard with the messed up face. These are impossible to dupe via Spoonflower or Contrado (custom fabric printing websites) due to the fact that these three are essentially small rugs. The other two, chariot lady and cat lady, are dupable via Spoonflower or Contrado printing since they aren’t the same fabric as the others.

The two pin-up tapestries are nearly impossible to find, more so than the velvet ones. In my months of searching, I never found either pin-up tapestry, so I had them printed by Contrado, along with the collar trim.

If you go searching for the velvet tapestries, you'll notice that there are several different versions of each one, with slight changes in color and placement of things in the art. How accurate you want to be is up to you. My peacock and matador are accurate to the tapestries on one of the stunt jackets, whereas my leopard is the correct color but wrong direction. That's doesn't bother me much, personally, especially since the leopard is the hardest of the velvet tapestries to find by far.

Once the tapestries were acquired, I measured different sections based on the dimensions of the jacket, mapped it out using washi tape on the tapestries, and then cut them all out. There was a decent amount of math involved here, specifically regarding scaling the sections of tapestry down by a few inches since my jacket is smaller than the original. I then arranged them all onto the denim jacket and pinned them in place before hand sewing them (yes, you read that right; I hand sewed this whole thing) on in the correct overlap. I also added the rhinestones to the cat lady.

I recommend using embroidery needles and upholstery thread to attach the tapestries to the jacket, due to the thickness and the weight. I also sewed along the designs in the tapestries themselves to better hide the stitching within the image.

Part 3: The Patches

Marko’s jacket has a total of 26 different patches on it, most of which are motorcycle or punk themed. For these, I found a seller on Etsy who makes 24 of them, and I used Contrado to print the remaining two (the anarchy symbol and the large skull) on canvas and added the stitching. You could thrift and find the patches as well, but here's the thing: while some of these patches are pretty easy to find, others seem to be nonexistent, to the point that I wonder if some were made exclusively for the movie. That's why I went and purchased my patches instead of hunting them down. My personal favorite is the “Screw U” one. One fun fact about the patches is that the large winged skull on the back is a leftover from the movie “The Warriors”.

I once again hand sewed these all on as per the references from the movie. You might think that ironing the patches on is an easier method, but there's a few reasons why that won't work: 1) the patches in the movie are sewn on; if you zoom in, you can see the stitching 2) I'm not sure the patches would even adhere to the velvet and velour of the tapestries and 3) if you decide you don't like the placement of a patch that you sewed on, you can just seam rip the stitching and adjust it, which you can't really do as cleanly with an ironed-on patch.

Part 4: The Tassels

The tassels on the jacket’s shoulder are not tassels at all; they’re squid skirts (a type of fishing lure), which is something I never knew existed until I started researching for this build. For these, I found a fishing tackle website that had the closest match to the colors I needed, a blue-grey/orange and a yellow/green. Both squids also have glitter and little eyes painted on.

Part 5: Weathering and Finishing Touches

Lastly, I weathered the jacket to give it that lived-in look. For the dirt/dust on the patches, I used powder eyeshadow. I also picked at the edges of the tapestries to fray them a bit. And to make the patches less stiff, I just broke the jacket in by wearing it around my house. The great thing about this jacket is that the more I wear it and the more it weathers, the better it'll look.

FAQ

How heavy and warm is the jacket?

The jacket is made of denim and rugs, so its pretty warm and heavy. It honestly feels like wearing a weighted blanket, which is a nice bonus if you're anxiety made flesh like I am. It makes a lot of sense for the jacket to be on the heavier side, because if you’ve been to Northern California, you know how cold it can get on the coast, especially at night (not sure if vampires can feel cold, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

How long did it take you to make the jacket?

I don’t time my cosplay builds, but I can guess based on the amount of TV/movies/podcasts/playlists consumed as I was working on it. I'm also pretty fast when it comes to hand sewing. By my estimation, the jacket took me about 45-50 hours of work, and that’s not counting the time I spent searching for the tapestries.

Can you make me one?

Sorry friend, I don't take commissions. Even if I did, there's no guarantee I could find the exact tapestries again. I appreciate the interest though!

One of the most useful resources for making this jacket is the Replica Prop Forum! There's a ton of information there, as well as discussions and troubleshooting about the construction of the jacket.

I hope you enjoyed this walkthrough of Marko's jacket! This was a fun build and I'm really proud of the finished product. I'm going to make the rest of Marko's outfit + wig to complete the cosplay, so stay tuned for that!

If you have any other questions, feel free to plop them in my inbox! In addition to tumblr, you can also find my cosplay work on instagram and bluesky @/marlequinncos

[pabtsblueliving]

I loved Come to Papa! I have the biggest crush on Chibs 😍. The man gets hotter as he gets older! Can I request for Chibs, maybe a first date with him??? He's trying to impress her. Like it's hard, right? Thanks!

Baby, I'm Yours

First date with Chibs

WC: 1.2K

Warnings: smoking, drinking, making out, like one curse word.

Hello, who doesn't have the biggest crush on him, hard not to. He was hot then and is still hot now. I started and finished when I got back from work, been wanting to write this all day. Bit rushed, but thank you for requesting, enjoy!

xoxo pabtsblueliving 💋

pabtsblueliving © 2023

You were nervous. A date.

You fiddled with the edge of your clay colored dress, sitting in your living room waiting to hear the motorcycle revving down the street. You were pleasantly surprised when Chibs Telford had asked you on a date.

You worked at the tattoo shop all the Sons had come through when they needed a new tattoo, or a new prospect was finally being initiated. You’d seen chibs a few times, never interacting too much unless it was a hello in that gorgeous voice, and a wink. A smile returned from you to him.

A few days ago he’d stopped in by himself, and you were cleaning up the shop. 

“Chibs, hey what can I do for you?” You smiled to him,

“Hi Lass, how’s the day?” He responded, “I’ve got a question, mayb’ bit out tha’ blue” He took his sunglasses off, put them on the counter, and leaned against it.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?” You furrowed your brows, and taking off your gloves

“Ehm, would you want’a go on a date with me? Dinner, drinks, take yeh on tha’ bike?” He let out a breath he was seemingly holding since he’d arrived

Your eyes widened, and you smiled a bit, “Oh! Uhm, yeah, Chibs,” You looked down and smiled, then looking back up at him, “I would love to.” You beamed.

He gave you a smile, and a chuckle, “Alright, lady. Then uh, its a date” He picked up his sunglasses and began to walk out, confident in his stride. 

“Chibs, hold on.” You chased after him, meeting him at the bike.

He sat down and looked up, you continued, “When and where?” You chuckled a bit, he seemed to miss that part.

“Oh, ehm,” He let out a puff of air, “How about, tomorrow, 6pm, I’ll pick yeh up?” 

“It’s a date” You smiled and turned away, closing down the shop as he rode away.

And now, you find yourself, where we started. 

You fiddled with the edge of your clay colored dress, sitting in your living room waiting to hear the motorcycle revving down the street. You were pleasantly surprised when Chibs Telford had asked you on a date.

You’d just finished your third cigarette, in 30 minutes and a cocktail. You weren’t used to dates. You kept to yourself, provided your service of body art to the Sons, went out with friends sometimes, but that's really it. 

You let out a shaky breath. Did your hair look stupid, was your dress wrinkled, did your boots match your outfit? You were ripped from your thoughts when you heard the bike. His bike. You flew out of your seat, finding the nearest mirror and smoothing out your hair, adding lipliner and gloss to your lips.

He removed his gloves at the door, rapping his scarred knuckles on the door. Those three knocks finally pulled you into reality. You smoothed your dress and opened the door.

Upon opening the door was Chibs. He looked different, but handsome. He had black slacks with boots, a black button up that had more than a few buttons undone, and his cut. God, he looked great. 

You smiled and pulled your purse to your shoulder, “What do you think,” He started, “Clean up ok, for an old crow” His hands went up, presenting himself.

You laughed, “Clean up maybe too well” You winked. “Ready?” He held out his hand and a helmet. You nodded, strapped on your helmet and climbed behind Chibs, wrapping your arms around his sturdy frame.

And off you went, to the best date of your life. You went to an outdoor, casual, restaurant in the desert, 20 minutes from home. You had a chatty dinner, followed with a few drinks. You didn't want it to end.

You swallowed a sip of your cocktail, and took a drag of a cigarette, handing it to chibs as he leaned back in his chair taking it. The sun was setting on the desert, and he looked incredible.

“So,” You said, blowing out the smoke, “I’m surprised you’d asked me on a date.” 

He took a drag and chuckled, “Why’s tha’, Lass?” He raised a brow.

“I don't know, we’d never really spoken too much before, here and there. A wink and a smile maybe…” a smile broke out as you spoke, and he laughed.

“Well, em, I’ve had my eye on yeh for quite some time, Darlin’. Just recently grew the balls to finally talk to you and ask you.” He winked, bastard.

“Well, then thank god for your…balls…” You began to giggle and he chuckled, handing you the cigarette back.

As you took a final drag he spoke up, “How about we get outta here, love?” 

He handed you your helmet and put his sunglasses on, leading you back to the bike, and you rode off back to your home. 

He walked you to your door, a large, warm, hand at the small of your back leading you gently. You dug for your keys, nervous about his sudden silence.

“Damn…keys…uh,” You chuckled out an apology, and looked back. Finding him with his hands in his pockets, looking right at you. 

You finally grabbed your keys, and asked, brows furrowing, “What?” you questioned.

“Nothin’...I just eh, had fun…” He stalked closer, the space between you and your door, and him was getting increasingly smaller.

“I had a lot of fun too, Philip. I’d love to do it again sometime…soon…” You dropped your purse on the floor, and he trapped you between him and the door, arm above your head. You smelled his cologne, hoping it sticks to every item of clothing you're wearing.

You began, “so maybe like in a few days we can plan someth-” you started, cut off by a soft “shut up” 

You felt the chill of his rings on your cheek, and the smell of the leather and cologne on his skin, tasting the cigarette you shared not long ago, before you reached up and grabbed the shoulders of his cut. You quite literally melted into his kiss.

The arm above your head moved to the small of your back, bringing you in, This wasn't a normal kiss. It was sweet, slow, nothing too heated or sexy. 

You were soon interupped by the shrill of his cellphone, and he pulled away, breathing heavy as he sighed and answered the phone, while you remained in his grip. 

“Yeh?....Alright’ well, mate yer fecking interruptin’....You need me right now? Where?....” He answered on the phone, keeping eye contact with you then sighing, “Alright, Jesus christ, Tig give me twenty minutes.” He slammed the phone shut, forehead falling onto yours.

“I gotta go, lass…” He whispered, bringing a hand and stroking your hair.

“It’s ok, do what you’ve got to do Phil.” You gave him a wink and a smile, kissing right below his scar on his cheek

He winked back, and began to walk to his bike, “So, ill see yeh’ again, yes?” He yelled from down the driveway.

“After tonight, baby I’m yours.” You yelled back, a smile etched into your skin that would remain there for the whole night.

[mrowtastic]

Ok I had a cool Idea about a dp x dc au that i want to throw out here.

The story takes place after the show. Everyone is in their early-mid twenties, (I'm thinking the Trio is around 22-23 and Jazz 26-27, depending), Everything that happened in the show happened here. It's been over five years now and Team Phantom is a well-oiled machine of ghost kick-assery.

The Drs Fenton are retired from the ghost hunting business. Inventing new gadgets and theories is their game and they enjoy it. They have gladly passed the torch to their two kids that they are so so proud of. (Maddie insists that they call at least once a week to chat).

Everyone has stuck together. Amity is healthier (ghost-wise) and is particularly peaceful. The gang goes to the same college (take your pick, i prefer Gotham thanks to ghosty biz), and realize just how much their ghostly know-how is needed outside of Amity. (Maybe Gotham calls in a favor and asks them to [spiritually] clean up her streets to help with the strain of everything?).

Team Phantom comes out of retirement to address the spiritual turmoil, hunt down naughty ghost, help the dearly departed to the other side, and steal mementos, haunted artifacts, and other dangerous occult items best left to the dead. The more morally-grey parts of the job force the Team into stealth mode. They work mostly at night but can work during the day depending on the mission. In order to stay anonymous they have motorcycles (with their assigned colors, the sporty kind) with helmets. (I'm imaging so many motorcycle chasing scenes. Maybe the Fentons invent a ghost whip that snags ghosts mid-chase? That sounds cool).

It's easy to get what they need between Sam's and Danny's wealth, Tucker's programming skill, Danny's engineering skills, Jazz's organizational skills, and Sam's ability to see the big picture. It's just like old times.

In a sense they make themselves a superhero group. To everyone else, however, they have come out of nowhere and are way to skilled to be newbies. It has the bats and other heroes scratching their heads. Shenanigans ensue. Constantine loves them and loathes them in the same breath. The Bats are running in circles because How do they keep getting away?

Everyone gets a superhero identity:

Danny: Sticks with Phantom. I know, boring, but no one outside of Amity really knows about him. (I'm thinking an info blockade from the government like in so many fics). He specializes in all the ghostly, magical parts of their exploits. Anything that needs to be done regarding ectoplasm and weird symbols is his business. Also is the only one able to make chemicals needed for their weapons and handle a hammer for repairs to equipment. I imagine him in either a black trench coat or motorcycle jacket with combat boots, black jeans, and regular black t-shirt. He wears goggles like Maddie's. (Like mother, like son). They make him look unhinged.

Sam: I'm leaning towards the name Thorn? She's the sharpshooter. The muscle. She can and will crack your head between her thighs and possesses 90% of the trio's impulse control (in most situations). I imagine her in knee-high, laced up, goth boots, leggings and killer skirt with a leather jacket and crop top. Her colors are still black, purple, and green. She is SWOLE. I love her.

Tucker: Now, I'm not sure what his name would be but he's basically the field tech. Having an on-site hacker is super useful. He's got twenty ways to get into every building. Security means nothing to him. He's great at stealth (not counting Danny cause ghost powers) and is great at thinking on his feet. His color are black and orange. Instead of wearing his red beret and yellow shirt duo he wears sneakers, tech glasses, a motorcycle jacket with a hoodie attached.

Jazz: Prophet is her codename. She's the lady in the chair. Tucker may make the programs that run the computer, but only Jazz can run them efficiently. She gets them where they need to go, gets them out of tough situations, gets info, assists Tucker, and so much more. Also, I want her to fly a ghost jet. I dont know why but she would be so cool doing it.

[rebelliousstories]

Resolutions

New Year/New Fics

Relationship: Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,182

Main Masterlist: Here

Marvel Masterlist: Here

Summary: A new year draws near, and thus the traditions of resolutions that they now have to explain the concept of to an alien.

Consider Donating: Here

“Eddie, what are we doing?” A growl voice interrupted the man who was currently searching for… something. Even the symbiote who was in his thoughts did not know.

“Tryin’ to find a notepad. I’ve gotta have one left over that I can use.” Eddie muttered, shuffling things around.

“Why do you need a notepad, Eddie? What do you need to write down that I can’t remember?” He asked, staying inside for right now.

“Makin’ New Year’s resolutions with the girl today. That’s what we wanted to do, is write them down together. Aha!” After what seemed like forever, Eddie grabbed a random writing pad that was buried under various articles and papers on his desk. Spending another minute, he also found a pen for himself, and set both objects on the coffee table to use later.

Brock busied himself for the next few minutes making sure the dinner he made was ready for when she got to his apartment. Just a simple dinner of a frozen pizza, some hard ciders since he knew she did not like drinking beer, and a chocolate cake from the diner down the block for dessert. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, but he was still getting the pizza out of the oven. However, that was unacceptable for the alien.

“Eddie!” Venom cheered, taking control to drag him to the door. In the process, he dropped the pan with the pizza on it, sending it plummeting to the floor. But inky black tendrils shot out from his back to save the delicious food before it could be ruined. “It’s not nice to keep the lady waiting.”

“Yeah, well, if you would have let me finish putting the pan on the counter, I’d be doing this myself,” Eddie snipped, not even fighting against it. Venom decided that he was going to open the door first, because another tendril zoomed forward to wrap around the knob.

How one could be so beautiful, Eddie would never understand. But the answer was right in front of him. She was just dressed in a simple t-shirt, with a leather motorcycle jacket, boots and jeans, but it was still the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. In her hands, her motorcycle helmet that was decked out in a stunning electric blue color scheme with an owl.

“Eds, hey baby.” Stepping into his apartment, she dumped her helmet on the floor near the door as she wrapped her arms around him. Sighing, the man pressed his cheek onto the top of her head before pressing a kiss there.

“Hey, gorgeous. Missed ya.” He whispered, pulling away just a bit. Being able to take in her features, he was absolutely floored that someone like her was with someone like him.

“Missed you too, Eddie. I-” a loud crash cut her off. The sound of a pan hitting the floor made both humans look at each other. One of them was trying not to laugh, the other was trying to control his annoyance.

“Is that-” she began to ask.

“Yep. You wanna come out buddy?” No sooner had he said that, the black symbiote appeared from his left shoulder.

“Hey, V.” She giggled, rubbing the top of his head like you would a dog.

“Hello, pretty lady. I am so glad that you are here. Eddie says that you are doing something for the new year tonight.” He stated in that gravely voice of his. Eddie chose that moment to usher her into the kitchen while he assessed the damage his friend left.

Thankfully it was not much, the pizza was cut questionably on the countertop, but it was all there. Only the pan and some crumbs were on the floor, to which he groaned as he bent over. Hearing his girlfriend giggle behind him, Brock shot her a playful glare as he stood back up.

“Don’t wanna hear it, doll.” Pressing a hand to his back, Eddie shook his head as he heard more giggles.

“Anyways, as I was saying, V. Yeah, we’re gonna have a quiet little date night in and write down our New Year’s resolutions while we’re at it.” She continued, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“And what do you do with these resolutions?” Venom questioned, still starring at her.

“Well, you try to keep to them for the coming year. Usually it’s things like losing weight, reading a certain number of books, or even picking up a new hobby.”

Plating their food, Eddie put his left hand on her back as the right held the tray. Making it over to the couch, he sunk down into the cushions, set the food on the table, and grabbed his girlfriend’s hips. In an instant, she was yanked down onto his own lap, as Eddie finally got the chance to hold her properly. Nuzzling his face into her neck, he was delighted to hear her giggles as his two day old scruff tickled her skin.

Sighing into his hair, she felt herself relax. “What do you want to do next year?”

“Already starting, huh?” He teased, pulling back just a bit to look at her soft features.

“Well, considering the big guy still over your shoulder… yes.” With a groan, Eddie looked at his alien friend, who was smiling widely with those insanely sharp teeth of his.

“I would like to make my own resolutions, Eddie.” He growled, grabbing for the pen and paper blindly. After he got it, he was scribbling something down, and then passing it to the woman. Honestly, the fact that it was even legible was impressive.

“‘Eat more bad guy brains.’ V, these are supposed to be things that better you.”

“It does. Makes me calmer and nicer. Plus, less bad guys to do bad guy things.” Venom tried to justify it, smiling with all those teeth.

Rolling her eyes, she smirked as she wrapped her arms around Eddie’s neck, carefully avoiding where Venom connected to the man. “What about you, Eds? You never answered me.”

He thought for a minute, truly wondering what he wanted to do to better himself in the coming year. “Maybe start that series that I wanted to. Something we could do together? What about you?”

“I’d like to get back into painting. That was always something that relaxed me. I miss it a lot.” She shrugged casually.

“I remember seeing those works from when you were a teenager. You should definitely do that.” Eddie kissed her nose.

“Anything else,” came her ask as she pressed her face into his neck.

“No. We can’t write these down later. Let’s just enjoy ourselves for a minute.” Eddie sighed, starting up a movie for them.

“Okay. Tuck inside, V. You can come back out later.” Her words made the symbiote disappear, thankfully, without a fight.

As they sat there on the couch, Eddie realized that he was going to have to be a bit sneaky with one of his resolutions. The ring box that it went along with was being hidden; so why should not the resolution be?

[andydrysdalerogers]

Under the Hood 

Dark! Mechanic Steve Rogers x F!Reader 

A broken car, a handsome hero. Nothing but a spark between you. If only you knew... 

Song: Tainted Love by Soft Cell

Word Count: ~ 2.7K

Warning: 18+ only! SMUT!, drugging, dub-con, degradation, oral (f-receiving), dark! Steve Rogers 

Mood board by: @georgiapeach30513

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

A/N: This came from the mood board challenge game that @georgiapeach30513 hosted a few weeks ago. I spun the wheels and have been pushed out of my comfort zone. My spins were Mechanic Steve Rogers, degradation and drugging.  Please heed the warnings below.   

As this is an out of my comfort zone fic, feedback would be appreciated but being mean or rude comments will not be tolerated and you will be promptly blocked. 

Doing my normal taglist at the bottom. Please let me know if you want to be removed.

Main Master List

Climbing down the steps of your building, your smile is big as you look forward to your day. Being an art teacher was fun, especially with the younger children.  As you climbed in your vehicle, you couldn’t help but sigh. Today was going to be a great day.  

But then, your car wouldn’t start.  

“C’mon,” you muttered. Your smile fell. This was an older car for sure, but it wasn’t that old.  You got out and popped the hood. Not seeing anything out of place. You tossed your head back and sighed.  So much for it being a great day.  

“Need some help?” 

You jumped and whipped around to the voice behind you.  A man, a gorgeous man stood behind you, a rag wiping grease from his hands.  You eyed him, up and down.  Blonde hair, blue eyes, scruff around his chiseled jaw, white, dirty shirt that was fitted to a narrow waist and tone legs wrapped in jeans. Motorcycle boots finished the look and you managed to look back up at the Adonis standing in front of you.  You swallow, “my car won’t start.”  

“I can see that.  Can I look?” He smiled but you hesitated.  “My name is Steve and I work at the garage.”  He pointed to the garage, Barnes Automotive. It had been a staple in the neighborhood for years.  

“Sure.”  You stepped aside, smoothing out your dress as Steve ducked his head under the hood.  You chewed your lip as he fiddled with the engine.  

“Looks like there are a couple of problems, sweetheart. Gonna take a few weeks to repair.” He looked at you as he cleaned his hands.  

“No,” you whispered. Tears began to flood your eyes.  What were you going to do? You had to get to work and now you were stuck.  

“You ok?” 

“No,” you repeated, louder this time.  “I don’t know a lot of people in this town and I’m not sure how I’ll get to work and stuff.” You sniffed, trying to keep the tears at bay.  

“Well, I can give you a ride,” Steve offered. “I’m at the garage early and I can step out to take you and pick you up. We’re neighbors after all.”  

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.”  

“My mama would whoop my ass if I left a lady all alone, stranded.  Promise, I don’t bite.” He smiled again and you melted. There was nothing wrong with accepting help.  “C’mon sweetheart, what do say?” 

And it started.  Every day, Steve would give you a ride in his classic black Mustang and pick you up every night. You would chat the five or so miles every day. He had coffee ready for you, once he learned of your preferences.  He was charming and sweet.  

And every day, you fell, more and more.  

Steve was falling in love.  

Well, to be honest, he had been in love with you for months.  When he first saw you, you were moving into the neighborhood.  You were beautiful, your hair swept up in a bun at the top of your head with a glitter headband that made him think you had a halo. Jean short that hugged your ass as your shirt was knotted at the waist. Just the sight of you made his dick twitch, your hair, skin, clothes, everything made his blood sing.  

“I need to know her,” he told his best friend, Bucky.  

Bucky whistled, “she is a dime. What’s your plan?” 

“Get to know her. However way I can.” Steve smirked and walked away, putting his plan into motion.  

About six weeks into the repairs, you needed a mental health day.  You sent a text to Steve to let him know that you were staying home.  

You: I’m sorry, I need a rest day, not going to work 

Steve: everything ok? 

You: yeah, I'm just needed a break. Going to veg on the couch 

You: I’ll miss your coffee tho 

You got no response to that last message.  Frowning, you went to make your own cup when there was a knock on the door.  Curious, you looked through the peephole and smiled.  “Steve, what are you doing here?” 

“I didn’t want you to miss your cup of coffee.” He held out the travel mug to you, the special one he bought especially after mixing up the cups once before.  

“Oh, you didn’t have to be so sweet,” you swooned. You took the cup and took a sip. “So good.”  

Steve grinned; “I added some cinnamon to the coffee.” 

“God, my own personal barista.” You gave him a big smile. “You want to come in?” 

“Sure, if that’s ok.”  

“It is. I’m just taking a me day today. Veg out, you know.”  

Steve frowned. “Veg out?” 

“Lay like broccoli.” You giggled.  “It's from a movie. Pretty Woman?” 

“Never seen it.”  

Your jaw dropped. “Steve! How could you have gone through life without seeing Pretty Woman. Rich guy meets hooker, and they make an arrangement to help him.  But before she gets paid, she falls in love.” You clutch your hands to your chest. “And then the guy chases after her to tell her he loves her too.”  

“Sweetheart, I’m a guy. We don’t watch movies like that.”  

“Well, you will today.” You took his hand and tugged him to the couch. You sat down next to him and pulled your blanket over your legs.  

“Sweetheart...” 

“Nope. I need to educate you.” You flipped on the movie and reached for your coffee to sip.  As the movie started, you snuggled closer to Steve, the warmth of his body drawing you in. The smell of the coffee, his cologne mixed with his natural scent was an aphrodisiac. You sighed when he put his arm around behind you.  

Steve ran his long fingers over your skin, fluttering along the now sensitive flesh on your arm. Suddenly, you wanted to be closer. You scooted right next to him and laid your head on his shoulder as he dropped his arm around your waist.  His fingers now played with the strip of flesh that was exposed from your shirt riding up.  

“Steve,” you whispered.  

“Yeah baby, this ok?” 

You turned your head up to look up at him. He could see your pupils were blown, desire and lust filled them that all he could see was black. He smirks as he trails his finger down your cheek and watches as your eyes close from the sensation. “Open them,” he growls. You blink your eyes open to see the positively feral look in his eyes. “Mine.” And he kisses you.  

It’s everything you didn’t expect but everything you dreamed of. His lips are soft, but they kiss you rough and needy. You’re needy. You shift or he shifts you, you’re not exactly sure but now you’re in his lap, straddling him, your hands on his face to hold him to you, his arms around your hips. You pulled back to breathe. “Steve,” you mumbled.  

“You like this, don’t you baby girl. Rubbing yourself on me like a little slut.” He pulled you back in and rocked your hips back and forth on his lap.  Your thin cotton shorts allowed him to feel how hot your pussy was, and it left nothing to the imagination.  The friction on your pussy from his erection pushing up through his jeans was mind-blowing.  

Desire flooded your blood, his words setting you on fire. “Fuck, Steve,” you moaned as your hips began to move on their own.  

“That’s it, grind on my cock. Fucking slut.” Steve assaulted your neck and shoulders, moving your shirt out of the way.  “Fuck this,” he yanked the shirt off of your body, grinning at the fact that you had no bra on. “God damn, these tits are just made to be sucked on.”  

“Yes, please,” you moaned. Your mind was spiraling; you’ve never been so turned on. It borderline hurt, the need to have Steve touch you, taste you, fill you.  God, you needed Steve to fuck you, like yesterday.  

Steve chuckles darkly at your neediness. “I’m going to destroy this pussy soon enough baby.” When you whined louder, he grinned. “You like that, don’t you, you dirty whore. You want me to wreck this body.” You nodded and Steve flipped you onto the couch, so he hovered on top. He rolled his hips against you, and you shuddered at his hard length pressing into you. “How long has it been, hmm?” 

You went silent, embarrassed at how long it had been since you had been with a man. Lust was overcoming your senses, but you resisted answering him.  

“It's been that long, huh?” Steve chuckled as he took a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched, relishing the feeling of his hot mouth on you.  

“S-steve, fuck, please!” 

“Oh, beg for me, slut, beg for what you want. Fucking brat can’t wait, can she? Maybe I’ll choke you on my cock so I can see your lips wrapped around me.”  You keened at the suggestion and Steve’s jaw dropped for a second before pulling himself off of you and moving you to your knees. “Open, fucking cock tease and choke on me.”  

You didn’t hesitate, wait, why didn’t you hesitate? Your mind was in a daze of lust and yearning.  

And Steve knew.  

He knew why you didn’t hesitate.  For once, John Walker had been proven useful. “Just a drop,” he said, “in her drink and she becomes putty in your hands.”  And the six weeks of spending time together in the car had put your guard down. So trusting, so innocent, so … his.  

The first touch of your lips on his cock was like lighting up his spine. “Fuck, that mouth is hot,” he moaned as you bobbed on the tip. You weren't sure if you could take all of Steve. He was the largest you had ever seen or been with. Steve threaded his hand into your hair and pushed you deeper onto him.  “I said to choke, you stupid slut. I want my dick to be imprinted on your throat.” His other hand grabbed at your neck and squeezed just enough to feel his cock. “That’s it, my little slut.”  

You gagged as his cock punched your throat. Tears mixed your saliva as you took as much of Steve as you could. The man was at least nine inches of solid, velveting man and just feeling every ridge made yor core tingle in delight.  

Before Steve could release, he pulled back. “No, I want to cum inside this pussy.” He lifted you off the floor and into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.  His cock was nestled in between you and you could feel it pulsing, wanting to release and fill you with his warmth. “I wanna watch my cum leak out of your gaping, stretched out hole so I can push it back into it.” You shuddered at his words. Steve chuckled.  You like that, hmm? He throws you on the bed and reaches for your sleep shorts.  Not even fighting me. Horny bitch. He rips the rest of your clothes away and you squeak at the force.  

He latches on to a nipple and your back arches as he bites and tugs on the peak. “St-st-steve,” you wail as he continues to lavish attention. 

“Beg for it, slut. Beg me to fuck you hard. Beg for my cock to fill you up and leave my seed I your womb, fucking cock drunk whore.” You cry as he sinks down as pulls your clit between his teeth. “Knew you were cock drunk when you can’t even beg.  Beg, dammit! Beg or I won’t give you want you want! God damn slut! Bet you just prance around like a goddam tease for all of the other guys in the neighborhood.  Bet you have a line so they can just use you.” His big hand covered your throat.  

This snaps you out of your daze, grabbing onto his wrist.  “No! No I don’t. I’m not a whore!” 

“Yes, you are, slut. Wasted no time letting me in here. Am I the first?” He scoffed.  “I doubt it.”  

“No! No! Just you, only you, Stevie, just you!” You cried as Steve held your throat tighter. “Only want you,” you whispered as the air flow began to dwindle.  

Steve felt your hand begin to loosen from his wrist and he let go of the pressure.  You gasped and he pushed hard into your tight heat. “Fuuuuuck,” he moaned, feeling you wrapped around him.  

You tried to make a noise at the intrusion, pain screaming through your body.  But your brain, well your brain enjoyed the pain. It wanted to Steve’s cock to wreck your body but had no idea why. You just needed him and the pain was worth the pleasure you were feeling now.  Steve withdrew and you whimpered at the slight loss.  He chuckled. “Needy cock slut.” He slammed back into you, and you found your voice, screaming.  

He kept the pace, pounding into you as his filthy words penetrating the air. His cock was so deep, you swore it was in your stomach at this point. His pubic hair was brushing along your clit, sending zings through your core, causing you to clench around him.  

“Oh fuck, this pussy is gripping me so tight. Wanna cum, slut? Use your words.”  

“Pl-please!” 

“Words, fucking cunt. Use. Your. WORDS!” He punctuated each word with a thrust into you.  

“Please let me cum!” You screamed as the pleasure was reaching its point.  

“CUM!” 

He roared as he pinched your clit.  

It was like lighting through you.  You pulsed and exploded, squeezing his cock so hard, he couldn’t move. “That’s it, fuck, Such a good little whore.” The tension in your body eased and you were pliant under Steve.  He continued to move, thrusting to meet his end. You cried out from oversensitivity.  

“Can’t,” you cried.  

“Oh yes you can.” Steve kissed you hard until you were bubbling underneath him, your body climbing again. “I need to fill this body with my cum. Fuck, gonna make you a mommy, little whore.”  

Why would he say that? You thanked God that you were on birth control but still his words, shit, his words were bringing your body to the brink again. “Steve,” you moaned.  

“Ready for another? Wanna be my cum drop, hmm? Let me fuck my baby into you?” Steve thrusted harder and harder. You cried out, his hips slamming into you. “That’s it, cum again. Let me fill this slutty pussy up.” One, two and you were gone, eyes rolling back as your body arched from the third explosive orgasm of the day.  “Fuck! Yes!” And with a thrust, Steve flooded your womb with his warmth.  He slowed his hips, dumping everything he had into you.  

He lay on top, his head in the crook of your neck, catching his breath.  You didn’t move and when he lifted his head, he smirked as he realized you were passed out under him. He pulled out and saw his cum starting to seep out. “Whoops, gotta keep the good stuff in there.”  He pushed his cum back into you.  

After grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you up, he went back to the living room and saw a couple of things had fallen from his jacket.  He saw the packet of pills, snorting at the thought of him switching out your birth control for the last few weeks. “A necessary evil,” he said to himself. Honestly, he wanted a family as soon as possible with you and hopefully this session took.  

The second item was more unusual, but it was the catalysis to start his dreams. The saying was that you just need a spark to start something wonderful. But really, you just needed a spark plug to get our engine going. Not that you were going to be going anywhere other than to his apartment to start your new life.  

He tsk at the thought. If only she knew to check under the hood more often. 

Ah well. Lesson learned. Future planned. Girl secured.   

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@jennmurawski13-writes

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@amiquette

[littleeyesofpallas]

So I've mentioned before that Hisagi Shuuhei's given name Shuuhei[修兵]: "disciplined soldier" is a homonym with shuuhei[州兵]: lit. "state+soldier" but refers to both the organization and individuals of a "National Guard" and contextually the US National Guard specifically. And I've mentioned how it kinda plays into his characterization in relation to his zanpakutou. But something that maybe isn't as apparent is how he shares a very loose theme with Kensei.

Kensei's got a weird mix of things going on and it always felt to me like part of it kind of pivoted half way thru the series, and really the Visored in general, where he started with a sort of US military theme but got shifted into being more of a Japanese style biker gang leader instead(and how that plays into Mashiro's toku hero gimmick)

Among other things he's got the retroactively named move, BakudanTsuki[爆弾突き]: "bomb thrust" that has a subtle militaristic connotation to it. But then in context it's the same root word for "bomb" used in Bambietta's Schrift The Explode[爆撃]: "bombing(raid)" like in an aerial bombing from a plane.

(The other attack there is just SANDBAG BEAT[サンドバッグ・ビート] which doesn't feel especially thematic, but I guess does kind of evoke him being in something like a more western boxing gym, rather than any kind of japanese or samurai specific aesthetics like you'd expect from Soul Society. And his given name is written as "West(ern) Fist")

And then his zanpakutou, Tachikaze appears to be, at least in my mind, evocative of the Tachikaze class destroyer ship. Although I admit that's largely on the back of my own kind of wild/broad speculation about the Visored more as a group than anything supported by just him specifically.

Shuuhei ka tsuyosou na namae janee ka! Nakuna![修兵が強そうな名前じゃねえか! 泣くな!]: "Shuuhei is a strong looking name isn't it? Don't cry!"

It feels too obvious to need spelling out, but he's not just giving the generic pep talk, he's very specifically pointing out the Shuuhei's name means "Disciplined Soldier" so he should act like one.

I wish I could find it again but I swear there was some transcript of an interview where Kubo more or less reiterated stuff he'd been asked in other similar Q&A but mentioned that he doesn't really design characters with a background in mind, he just draws what feels cool and comes up with a story and personality to match the look. And mroe over that he similarly doesn't design characters with their relationships in mind, he just takes the characters he's already made and imagines which ones look like they'd get along in some way or another. (Among other things this explains why the same women keep showing up in 8th division, not because Nanao and Risa, or even Risa and Kyoraku were ever meant to be meaningfully related but because Kubo just keeps making these women who look the same and ends up pigeonholing them into the same basic network of characters.) Again i can't seem to find this specific Q&A though so take that "factoid" with a grain of salt.

Still it's with that in mind that it feels like Shuuhei and Kensei ended up together. Not because Kensei was ever actually meant to be Shuuhei's childhood hero but because they both had a soldier gimmick and so Kubo's brain filed them into the same general corner together. And it's from that link that he specifically made their meeting in the TBtP arc punctuated with this line about Shuuhei's name.

Also Shuuhei's got his whole motorcycle thing which is weirdly never actually brought up in the context of Kensei's biker thing and his hollow form made to look like car parts; although it's Shuuhei who's only briefly nodded to as the orbital factoid around Jackie's whole gay leather biker daddy themed Dirty Boots. (Very funny that between that and Mashiro's Kamen Rider homage that we have two implicitly motorcycle riding kicky ladies in Bleach. "...two nickles..." and all that...)

[exorcqism]

﹆₊ 画家‧₊˚ THE BLOOD PAINTER, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ art; it comes in many forms. even clothing. wc, 4.39K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. i’m backkk. i got so caught up in writing one-shots that i almost forgot to do the series. so i’m here. hope ya enjoyyy. reblog to support meeee.

␥ tags. artist!choso, college AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, reader has a motorcycle, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3 PART FIVE

finally, the much-anticipated friday had arrived, as the clock struck 12:15, choso let out a heavy sigh and pushed away from his cluttered desk. the familiar sound of the bell signaling the end of class echoed through the room, soon followed by the lively chatter of students as they filed out into the hallway. as he stepped out, the distinct smell of freshly cleaned carpets mixed with the mouth-watering aroma of takoyaki and ramen wafted towards him. his stomach grumbled in response, and he rolled his eyes at his hunger pangs.

as the male strolled gracefully down the hall, his footsteps echoing against the tiled floor, kashimo slung his arm over choso's broad shoulders. his face was lit up with a beaming grin that seemed to radiate energy. choso couldn't help but suppress a groan at the touch.

"what's with the frown?" kashimo asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity. "aren't you excited for tonight?" he continued; excitement evident in his tone as they made their way towards the bustling cafeteria.

"what day is it again?" choso rubbed his bleary eyes, his tiredness evident in the way he slumped in his chair. he had spent all night tending to his digital artwork and finishing up homework. kashimo nearly choked on his drink when he heard choso's question. the bags under his friend's eyes were deep and dark, a clear sign of exhaustion.

kashimo leaned in close, speaking in hushed tones. "you know it's friday, right?" he reminded choso with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "your date with you-know-who is tonight." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing choso's eyes to widen with shock and surprise. suddenly, all traces of exhaustion seemed to vanish from choso's expression.

choso let out a frustrated sigh, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "damn it, i almost forgot," he muttered to himself. "i need to find something nice to wear and freshen myself up. i probably look like death right now." his thoughts drifted to his upcoming date and he suddenly felt self-conscious about his appearance. kashimo waved a dismissive hand, trying to calm choso’s nerves.

"relax, you have plenty of time. your date isn't until seven and its only noon now. take a nap, get dressed, and do whatever else you gotta to do. maybe even pick up some flowers for the lovely lady." choso only rolled his eyes at kashimo's teasing words but was grateful for his reassurance.

after a satisfying lunch, the two boys retreated to choso's dorm room, where they spent their time sifting through an impressive collection of clothing. like pages in a newspaper, choso pulled each hanger from the rack and tossed the garments onto his bed.

"wow, you must come from money," remarked kashimo, studying the designer labels and high-end fabrics of the clothing strewn across the bed. the beige sweater with a brown collar and sleeves underneath that caught his eye looked like it belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. it was clear that choso had an eye for style and a wallet to match.

"i wouldn't say i'm wealthy in the traditional sense," choso replied with a hint of modesty, as he effortlessly pulled out a few pairs of designer boots. kashimo's expression shifted to one of disbelief as his eyes took in the luxurious footwear. he couldn't tell if choso was being humble or simply showcasing his affluent lifestyle.

"what’re you talking about? you have the largest room on campus, your wardrobe is filled with high-end fashion that could pay for my textbooks ten times over, you're top of the class, and you have an incredible talent for painting," kashimo exclaimed.

"you have everything. you don’t have to want for anything." the words tumbled out with a mix of admiration and envy, as kashimo couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy towards the male beside him.

choso chuckled humbly as he moved the pairs of boots closer to the bed, each one a work of art in its own right. they were made by the most prestigious fashion house in the world, a symbol of his wealth and status.

"the biggest room in the school? that's just because i got lucky with housing arrangements," choso replied nonchalantly, brushing off kashimo's words. "and these clothes and shoes? it's all just material possessions. it’s not like they define who i am." but even as he said this, a part of him couldn't help but feel proud of what he had achieved and acquired through hard work and determination.

a thoughtful look crossed kashimo's face as he sized up his friend. "you've got it all, man, i’m telling you. looks, brains, talent…what don't you have?" he couldn't help but feel envious of choso's seemingly perfect life. little did he know, beneath the surface, there were struggles and insecurities that even wealth and success couldn't erase.

choso simply shrugged, a slight smile playing on his lips. "my wealth is of no concern to me, and it shouldn't be to you either. you are just as worthy as i am, if not more so. i refuse to be lumped in with those spoiled assholes who strut around this place as if they own it." he gestured towards the crowd of students milling about the school grounds outside his window.

“i’d rather not be labeled as an entitled individual that kicks another down because of their casual way of life." choso's eyes glinted with determination and a hint of defiance. he refused to let his family's fortune define him or dictate how he treated others.

kashimo let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. but then, as if on cue, a smile lit up his face. "let's forget all that," he chirped. "we have more important things to focus on, like finding the perfect outfit for you." his gaze fell upon a rack of clothes. he strode towards it with purpose.

"i think i already have an idea," he added, gesturing towards a sleek and stylish collared shirt on display. it caught the light just right, highlighting its delicate details and flattering cut. kashimo's keen sense of fashion was always reliable, and he knew this would be the ideal choice for his new friend.

choso inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "you have an idea?" he repeated dryly, his dark eyes following kashimo's outstretched finger as it pointed towards the shirt.

with a flick of his wrist and a wide, toothy grin that always made choso roll his eyes and groan, kashimo declared confidently, "yeah, yeah, we'll have you looking like a vogue model by the time we're done." his hands moved deftly, as if conducting an orchestra, as he waved them around in front of choso's face.

the sunlight glinted off the sharp planes of his cheekbones and highlighted the smattering of his blood mark across his nose. choso couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance mixed with fondness for his friend's over-the-top antics. but he knew deep down that kashimo was just trying to help him look his best for his upcoming date.

after a few moments, choso found himself meticulously adjusting the crisp collar and sleeves of his tailored top, the fabric hugging his figure perfectly. he paired it with formal pants in a deep coffee shade, complementing the beige sweater he wore underneath. the overall effect created a polished and put-together appearance.

kashimo's lips curled into a mischievous smirk as he lightly nudged choso. "well, you could pass for a model," he teased, his eyes flickering over choso's outfit. the male blushed, not expecting to be dressed in such a fashion so soon. "you're quite the handsome devil, choso." his words were laced with admiration and playfulness. choso's cheeks flushed deeply at the compliment.

"please don't say things like that," he murmured, trying to hide his bashful smile. "but thank you…i think." the soft breeze flowing through the window tousled his hair, adding an extra touch of dishevelment to his already dashing appearance.

placing his hands behind his head, kashimo's snicker broke through the quiet of the bedroom. choso shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest as he felt the tips of his ears grow warm with embarrassment. fidgeting with his fingers, he tried to push away the teasing.

"aw come on, choso. your lady friend would definitely approve," kashimo taunted, his laughter now booming in the open space around them.

choso's cheeks grew even redder as he found himself growing more uncomfortable. "can we please stop talking about this?" he pleaded, desperately wishing he could escape this conversation and the teasing that came with it. "and shouldn’t you be saving these comments for hakari, not me?"

kashimo's smirk faltered slightly at choso's words, hints of embarrassment creeping into his expression. "hey, it’s not like he's not my boyfriend or anything," he muttered, trying to brush off the earlier comment.

choso couldn't help but roll his eyes at kashimo's attempt to downplay their relationship. as much as kashimo denied it, everyone knew there was something more between them than just friends. but for now, choso was content with keeping their dynamic as it was - friends who teased each other mercilessly.

"right," choso muttered, his dark eyes flickering with curiosity. "so, what happened the other night with you and hakari, if i may ask? did you two have fun?"

kashimo exhaled slowly, his cheeks flushing as he thought back to that unforgettable evening. "i mean…yes, we did have fun, but a couple things happened that i didn't expect."

choso could see the telltale sign of embarrassment in kashimo's blush. He could only imagine what had transpired between the two of them, causing such a reaction in kashimo. a small smile curled at the corners of his lips, wondering just how wild their night together must have been.

kashimo shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the words to explain his feelings about that night. but they eluded him, leaving him with a tangle of emotions that he couldn't quite put into words. nevertheless, one thing was for sure - it was a night he would never forget.

choso raised a skeptical brow at kashimo's wistful expression. "well, aren't you gonna tell me what happened?" he prodded with curiosity. "you seem like you're reminiscing about it."

kashimo was abruptly pulled from his reverie, caught off guard by choso's inquisitive tone. his lips pursed as he carefully considered how to explain the night's events. "i guess i could tell you," he began slowly. "it was a pretty nice night all around. we ate and drank a little, but then out of the blue, he asked me to give him my hand." a faint smile tugged at the corners of kashimo's mouth at the memory.

"i was confused as to why he wanted my hand, but i gave in anyway. we held hands for a while, just enjoying each other's company. and he had this silly grin on his face…" kashimo trailed off with a fond chuckle.

choso couldn't help but tease, "you didn't kiss, did you?" though his words were nonchalant, there was a hint of playful curiosity in his tone.

"stop," kashimo protested, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "it's not like that. we just held hands and…okay, we almost did but i got nervous." his words tumbled out in a rush, his eyes darting away from his teasing gaze. "but we're going to hang out again tonight," he continued, determined to prove that there was nothing more than friendship between them. "and i was thinking of having a double date soon since our situations are pretty similar."

choso chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "damn, you're really soiling my plans," he joked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"well excuse me, mr. kamo," kashimo chuckled jovially, his eyes glinting mischievously. "i should've considered that you might've wanted some alone time with the pretty lady… hey, let's head out and get some flowers. that'd be a nice touch, right?"

"i suppose," choso exhaled, rubbing his temples wearily. "would you mind passing me my wallet? it's on the desk." he pointed over to the umber wood desk that held his notebooks and other school supplies. kashimo retrieved the wallet and couldn't resist taking a quick peek inside. among choso's id, dorm room keycard, and a small polaroid of him and his brothers, was a thick wad of cash.

"holy shit, man," kashimo exclaimed before choso could snatch the wallet from his hands. "you could literally buy the whole planet with this amount of money."

"i said give me the wallet, not snoop around," choso narrowed his eyes, an edge of annoyance in his tone. the stack of bills represented years of hard work and sacrifice for him and his siblings. he didn't want anyone else getting their hands on it, let alone stare at it.

as the clock struck seven, you carefully chose your outfit - a sleek black leather jacket and fitted jeans paired with a simple yet elegant blouse. your trusted harley davidson roared as you rode into the parking lot of the upscale restaurant that choso had chosen for your meeting. you removed your helmet and placed it on the bike seat before walking confidently into the building.

inside, the restaurant was bathed in a warm, dim light that enhanced the romantic atmosphere. the scent of scented candles and sizzling food filled the air as you made your way to the table that had been reserved for you and choso. when you spotted him, your heart skipped a beat at his appearance.

instead of his usual intimidating demeanor, choso looked more like a regular academia student with metal adorning his face. he wore a cozy-looking sweater and a purple scarf wrapped around his neck, giving off a sense of vulnerability. a bandage on the corner of his lip suggested that he may have been injured recently. an expensive-looking watch around his wrist. and instead of his signature ponytails, his hair fell freely around his face, some strands neatly tied into a ponytail.

you sat down on the opposite side of the table, unable to contain the soft smile that spread across your face. "hey, choso," you greeted him warmly. the sound of your voice made him look up at you, seemingly surprised that you had actually shown up regardless of whether it was planned or not.

choso's voice was gentle and hesitant as he spoke, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. "um…hi," he said, returning your smile with one of his own. he held something behind his back, and as he brought it forward, you saw that it was a bouquet of flowers. your heart skipped a beat at the sight of them.

"i brought you something," choso said, presenting the bouquet to you. each stem was carefully chosen and arranged, bursting with vibrant colors and delicate petals. you were not typically one to accept flowers as a gift, but these were too beautiful to resist.

you took the bouquet into your arms, feeling the softness of the petals against your skin. "wow," you chuckled in disbelief, admiring the intricate details of each flower. "these are really pretty…thank you." your eyes met choso's and you could see the sincerity and thoughtfulness in his expression. it made your heart swell with appreciation for this unexpected gesture of kindness.

choso nodded, a delicate pink hue blooming across his cheeks. "i'm…glad you like them," he stammered, his hand unconsciously smoothing out the creases in his scarf. "i was seriously struggling to decide which flowers would be best for you. i wasn't sure if i made the right choice."

you smiled warmly at him, taking the bouquet from his hands and inhaling the sweet scent of the blossoms. "no, it's okay," you reassured softly. "i love these flowers. no one has ever given me a bouquet before - let alone such beautiful ones like these. i can tell you put a lot of thought into this."

as always, your kind words had choso's heart fluttering and his chest feeling light as air. "well, i'm happy to be the first to give you such a gift," he replied, unable to contain the shy smile that spread across his face. "though now I'm starting to wonder if i should have just given you one of my paintings instead."

you shook your head gently. "whatever gift you came up with, i would’ve loved it," you assured him. "as long as it came from your heart and had some thought put into it, that's all that matters to me."

choso smiled softly, feeling a sense of confidence wash over him. after your simple conversation, the two of you finally sat down to order some delicious food and refreshing drinks. your conversations ranged from how your days had been to school-related topics like class projects and even delved into personal matters.

as the waiter placed your plates in front of you, choso couldn't resist taking a quick photo with his camera, capturing not only the mouth-watering food but also the charming interior of the restaurant.

"smile," choso said with a slight twitch at the corners of his lips. your eyebrows raised in surprise, but you quickly posed for the photo, revealing a flawless smile that made choso's heart skip a beat as he gazed at you through his camera lens.

the vibrant colors and warm atmosphere of the restaurant seemed to enhance your beauty, and choso couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment shared between the two of you.

with a contented smile on your face, you playfully plunged your fork into the steaming bowl of ramen, eagerly slurping up the tender noodles. across from you, choso calmly ate from his plate of shrimp tempura, occasionally watching you with an amused glint in his eyes.

"hey, let's do that thing they always do in the movies with the noodles," you suggested, holding up your fork and wiggling it playfully. a faint blush colored choso's cheeks as he caught on to what you were referring to, and he couldn't help but internally sigh at the thought. it wasn't that he didn't want to do anything romantic with you, but he was wary of how things might change between the two of you afterward.

"i suppose there's no harm in trying," choso said with a small smile, taking the other end of the noodle between his lips. you mirrored his actions, using the thin noodle as a playful tool to bring each other closer. as your lips were only a breath away from touching, you both paused for a moment, your hearts racing in anticipation.

finally, unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance between your lips and shared a brief but sweet kiss. the remaining noodle was quickly swallowed as your lips met, causing choso's eyes to widen in shock and surprise. his cheeks flushed a deep red, almost matching the crimson liquid slowly seeping out from his blood mark and onto the table.

feeling slightly embarrassed by his unusual reaction, choso hastily pulled away and chuckled nervously. "that's part of why i always keep it covered up," he admitted, trying to make light of the situation. but before he could apologize or explain further, he felt your gentle touch as you began wiping away the traces of blood on his cheeks with a napkin.

"it's okay," you reassured him softly, carefully folding the napkin to a cleaner side and continuing to clean his face. "does this happen often?" you asked, genuinely curious about choso's sudden bleeding.

choso nodded, his expression slightly sheepish. "usually when i'm….overstimulated," he admitted with a small smile. it wasn't a common occurrence, but it did happen from time to time, especially in moments like this when he was caught off guard by unexpected yet welcomed intimacy with someone he cared for deeply. "but i can also make it bleed at will."

the sound of your laughter filled the room as choso's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your observation. "that explains why there isn't any red paint in your room. you use your own blood for art…i think that's so cool. but doesn't it hurt?" you asked, genuinely curious about his unique artistic process.

choso shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "no, not in the slightest." his mind seemed to go momentarily blank before he quickly changed the subject. "um…we should finish eating before the food gets cold."

you nodded, returning to your meal but unable to shake off your curiosity about choso's blood mark and how it worked. after dinner, the two of you left the restaurant and made your way back to your motorcycle. you eagerly held onto the bouquet of flowers as you mounted the vehicle and placed your helmet in your lap.

"well, i guess this is where we part ways for the night," choso said, his hand nervously fiddling with his scarf. you looked up at him and checked the time on his watch. despite the sun having set and the moon beginning to rise, the night was still young.

"come on, it's too early to call it a night. let's take a bike ride around shibuya for a bit," you pleaded, hoping to spend more time with choso. just as he was about to politely decline and suggest rescheduling for another day, he felt something stopping him from saying no.

"alright, but please don't drive too fast…i've never been on a motorcycle before," choso reluctantly agreed, surprising himself with his sudden change of heart.

you squealed in excitement and patted the padded seat before putting on your helmet. "you'll have to hold onto me unless you want to fly off," you advised quickly as choso settled himself onto the seat behind you.

"fly off?" choso repeated before you unexpectedly accelerated out of the parking lot, your harley roaring into the night. he inhaled sharply, feeling slightly scared as he instinctively wrapped his strong arms around your body and buried his face into your back. you couldn't help but smirk at your daring actions.

"please…slow down," choso's muffled and shaken voice pleaded from behind you, making you giggle mischievously.

·.⌇ bonus..

under the moonlit sky, you and choso sat on a wooden bench in front of a serene lake. the gentle breeze caused both of you to shiver, but the beauty of the setting made it worth it. as you watched the ripples of the water sway back and forth, you turned to look at choso beside you.

"i wanted to ask you something," you said softly. choso's head snapped over to face you, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.

"about?" he asked.

"you mentioned that you always keep your mark covered up. you said it was because of people's fear and judgment towards what you really are…but why does it worry you so much?" your question forced choso into a moment of silence as he pondered his response.

"i'm…" he let out a heavy sigh before continuing. "i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i'm not like other sorcerers or curses. i’m half curse, half human. my brother yuji is a sorcerer, while the other two are also curses. normally, humans can’t see curses, but because i am in this body, you can see me."

he glanced at you to confirm that you were still listening before revealing more. "i…um…i keep my blood mark covered because when i get overwhelmed or stressed, my face starts bleeding like i told you before. i'm just embarrassed about it. if people knew what i really was, they would probably be too scared to even look in my direction. people think curses are disgusting and unworthy of life; they are afraid of them. it's better that part of myself hidden and live as a human."

you placed a comforting hand on choso's thigh, gently rubbing it with your thumb. "but choso, i'm not scared of you at all. curse or not, i think you're one of the kindest and most genuine people i've ever met. i honestly thought your unique display of techniques was just your sorcery, but now i know the truth. my opinion of you will never change, i promise."

choso's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "really?" he asked incredulously. "i'm not disgusting or horrible to you?" you shook your head, a small smile quirking at the corners of your lips.

"not even close," you reassured him. "the most people will say about you is how annoyingly smart you are." you playfully teased him, making him chuckle.

"but in all seriousness, you're a genuinely good person, choso." with a tender gesture, you reached up and cupped his cheek, causing his cheeks to flush a light shade of red. as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek, choso couldn't help but place his hand where your lips had just been.

"my face is going to start bleeding again," he muttered with a shy smile, clearly trying to hide his embarrassment.

with excitement bubbling in your chest, you quickly pulled choso's camera out of his bag and slung an arm over his shoulder, positioning the lens perfectly in front of you both. "smile, choso," you chimed with a grin, capturing the moment forever.

choso's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your quick movements, but he obliged and gave the camera his best smile as a bright flash illuminated the area and the sound of the photo printing echoed through the air.

as soon as the picture was fully developed, you eagerly removed it from the slot and examined it with satisfaction. "we look pretty damn good, don't we?" you commented, admiring how the lighting fell perfectly on both of you and the beautiful scenery around you.

"yeah, not bad at all," choso agreed as he gently took the photo from your hands and stowed it away with his camera in his bag. "that was actually the final picture i needed for my project."

"right, your scrapbook thing," you remembered with a smile as you rose from the bench. "shall we head back? i can help you put it together if you'd like."

choso's smile widened at your offer and he nodded eagerly. "i would love that."

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.