#so mostly i just move my canvas between the two and if the colors look fine on both then its good enough

[wwraithsart]

Happy Mar1na day!

[nr1chaedickrider]

'Universe.'

got this idea long ago from @allfortzu 's satzu story and i just need to write something about the universe theory <3

cw: (mostly) fluff, some angst, some smut

_______________________________________

It's quiet. A half-empty bottle of beer in each of your hands. Both of you are leaning against the bed while sitting on the floor. Chaeyoung's head on your shoulder. You are both cold, but somehow you warm each other up.

"Do you believe in the multiverse theory?" asks Chaeyoung as she looks at you, sitting upright again.

"Partly?" you reply, taking a sip of the beer.

"Kind of interesting to think about." says Chaeyoung, her head leaning back.

"Do you think... what would you and I be like in different universes?" she asks. It makes you think.

Both of you in other universes?

"Never thought about it that way," you reply.

In this universe, you are good friends. You've known each other for a long time.

But what about in other universes?

In this universe, you don't know each other, or rather, you don't know each other yet.

You have just moved to Paris, Chaeyoung has been living there for years. After weeks you start to notice more and more the flower shop which is in the same street as your apartment.

When you stand in front of it, you realize that it also offers tattoos? A strange but interesting combination.

You open the door and are immideatly greeted by the scent of flowers, as well as soft music in the background coming from a record.

"Hello!!!" says a woman enthusiastically to you, she looks smaller than you, her hair color the same as yours, her arms full of tattoos.

You smile at her and walk to the counter.

"I haven't been here that long, and I wanted to decorate my place a bit... and maybe get a tattoo on the spur of the moment?" you laugh, which she returns. "I have the perfect Flowers for you, and maybe the perfect Tattoo!" she smiles and winks at you.

Maybe it's a beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Maybe more?

In this universe you know each other, but you are probably your worst enemies.

You're both students in an art university, and you're the best students in the class. In competitions, it's always about which one of you wins. But, bad for you, Chaeyoung wins more than you.

"This can't be true," you mutter sourly as it is announced that she has won again. You walk out of the room, you don't need any more 2nd place trophies that just remind you that you can't be better than the Son Chaeyoung.

You walk to the next art classroom - the next competition is already in a month and you want to win. You sit down on a chair in front of a slightly larger canvas, your pens and brushes beside you on a stool. You hear the door open behind you.

"Drawing again? Wouldn't you rather give up? I'm going to win again anyway. Use your talent for other things," Chaeyoung says in her teasing voice. You grit your teeth because honestly, you feel like beating her up right now.

"Leave me alone." you reply. You hear a little giggle from her. "Good luck winning against me then" she says ironically and walks out. You hold the brush so tightly that it breaks in half. You sigh as you put away the two broken halfs.

Here, you hate her more than anything.

In another universe, you have a rather... different relationship.

Chaeyoung's head between your thighs, your hand in her hair while you moan. A breathy "f-fuck-" leaves your mouth. You've met her in a bar, and from the eye-fucking to the quick talking stage onto this perfect moment.

You breath heavily as Chaeyoung eats you out, her tongue in your hole while her nose hits your clit in a unusual pace.

Maybe its the alcohol, or Chaeyoung's perfect skills, but you cum quickly into her mouth, the sound of her drinking your juices makes you even more horny.

She sits upright again, smirking at you while her finger is resting on your clit which makes you grind your hip against her finger, signalising Chaeyoung that you definetly want more.

She leans forward, kissing you while one hand plays with your breast, the other one drawing circles on your clit. You moan into her mouth as she explores it with her tongue. She leaves your lips and her mouth lands on your neck, sucking, biting, kissing every inch of skin, her fingers now burried deep inside of you. Your hands on her shoulder, your nails digging into her skin while your toes curl into the bedsheet.

In this Universe, you dont really know eachother except your name or how you look without clothes, how you moan and taste. And maybe it will stay like that.

Maybe not.

In a universe far away, you are older.

You've been Chaeyoung's girlfriend for years.

Chaeyoung is on a set right now filming her new music video, and you're visiting her for support.

She fulfilled her dream of becoming a singer about a year ago, and it went even better than she thought. Her debut song became a hit, so now the next album almost a year later.

"Hello!!!" you call in happily, Chaeyoung smiles at you as she walks away from the set to hug you.

"I missed you" you say as you both walk to an empty room so you can talk in peace.

"Me too" Chaeyoung replies but in some weird tone.

You sit down on a couch as she takes your hand in hers, a light sigh falling from her lips.

"Are you okay?" you ask worriedly. Chaeyoung is silent, but then-

"My company wants me to break up with you... it's just to start with, they don't want to ruin my reputation, they say after a year or so we can do things together in public too" she says, her voice breaks, but in the end it sounds like she agrees and wants to take a year off??

"Chaeyoung..."

"You know it's my dream..." she says, since this conversation started she hasn't even looked at your face once. You wipe a tear from your cheek.

"You know I've always supported you. Then I'll do it again now," you say, standing up and walking out of the room, you hear Chaeyoung say something but you're too afraid to look back.

You came to support her, but it seems you did in a different way.

"I love you forever," she said as you left.

"I love you too," you say to yourself as you wave to a cab.

Here in this world you can't be together, but that's okay. You love each other.

"Do you think they hate us?" asks Chaeyoung, quietly and fearfully.

"I don't. I honestly don't want to think about it" you answer and sigh.

In this universe, you also love each other, but no one knows but the two of you.

You are sitting on a terrace of a bar, among young adults like you it is known as a safe place for "people like you", the extra exclusive terrace is as good as dark, a few candle lights on the tables from the different people. Half empty drinks on your table. Your view of the sea, the waves as good as silent.

"No matter what they think of us, I will always love you" you say and smile, your hand on hers. Your cell phone rings, a call from your mother.

"Hold on a second" you say and answer it.

"So how's the date going?"

Right. You told her you were out with a male friend. You sigh.

"It's going fine."

"I hope he likes you, you should finally marry someon-"

"I have to go, see you later mom." you hang up and turn off your phone.

"Your mom is bugging you again?" asks Chaeyoung, you nod.

"How about we go for a walk?" she smiles.

"I'd love to" you both put money on the table and walk out of the bar, a walk along the water, your favorite activity, unobtrusive yet somehow beautiful too. You walk hand in hand, Chaeyoung kisses your cheek. She's been doing it for years, but every time you get butterflies in your stomach. You sit down on a bench, your head on her shoulder.

"Chaeyoung?" it's quiet.

"Hm?"

"I want to go to another city..

With you" you say, it's not a question, just a fact. It's a sentence full of love.

"Me too" she says and smiles.

"I want to marry you" Chaeyoung says, it's just like you said, a fact, full of love, like a proposal.

"Then let's get married" you kiss her, slowly and so soft.

In this Universe you're scared to show your love.

"Its funny to think about us in different universes" she says, your beer already empty, your mind slowly coming back after you were thinking about everything.

You and Chaeyoung in different places.

"You know... it's interesting and all... but I'd much rather just be here, in the present universe. With you," you say, while looking at her. It's more of a whisper, but loud enough for Chaeyoung to hear.

She smiles at you and nods.

"You're right" she says, setting the beer in her hand on the floor and turning to you, her hand on your cheek.

In this universe, you are good friends.

She comes closer, her warm breath on your lips, she looks into your eyes, then at your lips, and back into your eyes.

You both come closer, her lips on yours. A slow, pleasant kiss.

Maybe you are more than friends, but it doesn't matter. You have each other, and you would rather be nowhere else but here.

[happilyringingbell]

Painting Those Who are Broken

Thank you to Witchren for asking this! I loved writing it! Also sorry it took me so long, I’ve been busy with writing other things! I have some projects I’m working on!

The scratching of the pencil swiping against the canvas is the most noise Curly has heard in recent days. He has mindlessly blocked out the footsteps, the beeping of the heart monitor, the coughing of patients that move past his room. To him, it was mostly silence.

The kind face of Anya curved around the canvas. Her gentle smile drew Curly’s attention. If he could smile, he would.

“Hey Curls, I’m almost done. Just hang on for another quick second, yeah?” Back around the canvas she went. Curly could only sigh. At least it was easier to breath-

“Hey Anya! I’m back with the colored pencils! How’s the art of Curly- woah! That’s beautiful! Curly! I ain’t ever seen you look better!” Daisuke laughed, eyes bright as he came through the door. The heavy metal shut behind him.

“Thank you, Daisuke! I told you I used to draw back in highschool.” Anya’s fluttery voice, Daisuke’s lovely expression, and the light air between the three brought life to Curly’s body. Something major he’d been missing ever since this happened to him. Ever since Jimmy betrayed him. That jerk.

“Yeah! I knew you did but wow! Curly you have got to see this!” Daisuke’s grin only seemed to grow. And Curly was getting more impatient with the amount of time that seemed to stretch on forever. He really wished he had his legs back so he could walk across the room and look at the drawing.

“Oh Daisuke! Just give me a second! I’m sorry Curly, one moment please.” Anya’s gentle smile switched something in Curly, and he relaxed into the bed, content to watch their movements and faces for the time being.

After what felt like a year, Anya finally pulled away. And Curly couldn’t help staring at her expression. It looked off. Like she was worried, but also confident. Weird.

“Okay! I’m done, ready to see it?” And the canvas was flipped. Curly was blown away.

A realistic picture of a red and white man stared back at Curly. Ruined and bandaged, he still looked beautiful.

It stirred something deep within Curly’s chest. And he couldn’t help the tears and gagging that tore from his throat. And in an instant, two sets of warm arms wrapped around his ruined body. Cradling them tightly as the two cooed and smiled at the broken man.

“Shh, Curly, it's alright. Do you not like the drawing? I can rid of it if you like-“

Curly batted Anya’s mouth with a stump. She paused, amused expression on her face. Her hands kept still on Curly’s body.

“Okay. I’ll leave it. Do you want me to hang it up? I’m sure the doctors would allow that.” Curly limply nodded. And Daisuke beamed, smushing his face against his friend’s shoulder. Curly continued to cry.

He truly had the best friends. Jimmy was a rat. But these two- these two were like angels.

I hope you enjoyed!

Do not steal my work or claim it as your own.

[igglemouse]

Episode 3 ~ Brushstrokes

And so I lead her upstairs to my improve art display which is yes, just a hallway outside of my bedroom.

For a long time she looks. Going between each one somewhat quietly, every now and then going 'hummm' and 'ahhh' as if she's having a deep internal conversation with herself.

Honestly, at one point I wonder if she was like...still alive? I don't know, she went really still and seemed to focus on my largest painting and I expected her to say something but after what had to be four whole minutes she still didn't move.

"Connie?" I ask, worried that maybe she did freeze?

"What is this?" she replies instantly and then turns to me, the look in her eyes were a little intimidating. I could tell she was going to completely rip my work apart. "The first two are okay, to be sure, the smallest one speaks of a woman who is lonely, desperate for support, failing completely to connect with the world."

"Ummm," not sure I agree with that one.

"The second, a child playing with colors and paint. A piece that leaves the mind blank and then-"

"Well-"

"AND THEN you have this!" her eyes flick to the largest picture, the one with the blue and green squiggly lines on a white background. "La artista can be seen here, in all her beauty and form! The wildness of this work, the boldness to put your soul on the canvas so bare to be seen I..."

She left me speechless. Honestly, I don't know why I even put that one up here, I did it mostly as a joke.

"I will have my answer on Saturday,"

"Oh umm, ok?"

Index - Next

[eddiediaaz]

Can you please do a blending/overlay tutorial!?!?!

ohhh i can definitely give you some tips on how i do it!

so, assuming you know how to make gifs and use the timeline/smart object gifs, this is how i usually go about it. I use photoshop cs5, for reference.

i'll use this recent gif from my don’t blame me gifset as an example:

1. Choosing what to blend

It's much easier to blend 2 gifs together when at least one of them has dark areas. Two bright gifs don't usually work as well, but it's still doable with some work. For example these 2 moments are both mostly dark, so it makes things easier:

2. Bringing 2 gifs together

To put 2 gifs on the same canvas, what I usually do is:

In one of the gifs, I select the size I want with the crop tool (540px by 400px in this case). You then drag the resize box how you want it on your gif. This will resize and crop your gif.

Then I go to the other gif and do the same thing. With that resized and cropped layer, I right lick on it, go Duplicate layer... and then choose to send it on my other gif's document. When both gifs are on top of each other you can start moving them around and blending them.

3. Blending options

Photoshop has multiple blending options that will give you many different results. What works best for blending gifs is usually the option Screen. This is what I get when I put these 2 gifs on top of each other, with the top group with the left gif set to Screen. Make sure the Screen layer is always on top.

I like to put the gifs in groups, it makes things easier (and tidier) further down the road, but it will work anyway with the smart object gif layers. For this particular gif, groups were not 100% necessary, but for more complicated gifs with different colorings, it's definitely a must in my book.

4. Layer masks

As you can see, this works, but there are definitely parts I would like if they didn't overlap, especially on the right ride. You can easily remove unwanted parts by painting them out with a Layer mask. In this particular case I want to remove the right side of the left gif, so I selected that group and made a layer mask by clicking on the icon at the bottom of the layers window. You'll get a white window next to your layer name. Select it. You then want to use a very soft brush and paint in black what you want to remove.

These layer masks act as "alphas" to drive the opacity of the layer. What is white will be at 100% opacity, and what is black will be at 0% opacity. You can definitely brush in some gray if you want an in-between look. Here I went full black.

This is the result I get after masking out the unwanted right part. Now I only have that one gif showing on the right side, instead of a blend of the two:

5. Painted layer

So you can see other characters still showing through on the left side of the gif. You can definitely go and paint the parts you want to remove on the right group as well, but if your layer masks overlap, it can create some transparency in your gif and we don't want that. Instead, I create a new empty layer by clicking on the icon, and put it in between the two groups. This layer doesn't need a different blending mode. With a soft brush and the black color, I go paint where I want to mask the right gif, so it doesn't show on the left side.

I played with that layer opacity because I liked to still see some of the right gif's details peeking through. Here's the result:

6. Final touches

At this point I will usually sharpen both gif layers and make the coloring, and then I will adjust the layer masks if I feel like I need to. In this case I thought it was fine as it was so I didn't change anything.

For this one I simply put the coloring on top of both gifs because it worked fine for this example, but you can also have a different coloring for each gif if you want. Just make sure you put the two different colorings in their respective gif groups. Remember that the top folder should always be set to Screen for the blending to work, even with coloring layers/groups inside that "main" gif group.

And that's pretty much it! This one was quite simple, but it's incredible what a screen layer and some layer masks can do :) I hope it helps!

 Also, @usergif has an amazing tutorials directory for more resources if you need! I always find great tutorials there.

[ornii]

La mia musa (My Muse)

Nancy Wheeler X Male Reader

Summary: You had a painting project and Needed a muse for it, Gladly, Nancy took your fumbling offer in exchange for help in her history class

"So why do I have to sit like this all day?"

Nancy Wheeler, the Wheeler Families daughter and occasional friend of few. She sits so elegantly in a chair inside a classroom of Hawkins High, an art room adorned with Odd drawings, used cavas and the smell of paint. She had one leg crossed and was looking forward, her eyes slightly dart to the left to a cavas being painted on. The quiet but abrasive sounds of paint being produced upon the canvas can be heard gently under music being played via a radio.

"Nancy, I've told you before that this stuff takes time." A man peers past the canvas to her, a student of Hawkins high just like her, he has this very flow y and fluent look to him. He frowns a bit at her.

"We can reschedule it if you're not up for it today..." he says, Nancy considers it for a second.

"No, I want to finish it so you can show me, since you've never let me see it." She replies a bit coldly and he agrees.

"Okay, keep your chin a bit high." He replies and she leans her head upward slightly, he looks at her and their eyes meet. He could only just stare at her; watching as Nancy's beauty just beams though the room like the sun rising through the horizon. He looks back down as Nancy smirks just slightly. She had a slight feeling of his intentions when he awkwardly asked her to be his "Muse." Which was mostly just him stumbling on her words, and him convincing her by helping her with History class. To just stand in one spot, just too easy for her to pass up.

"So, what is a Muse anyway?" Nancy asks and (Y/n) continues to paint while explaining.

"Well originally they were Greek Goddesses of Art forms, The Nine Daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, but the term means something that inspires you to paint, to create.. and for me.." he says, (Y/n) makes a power move and peers over, staring at Nancy.

"It's something so perfect you can't take your eyes off of." He says, his words caught Nancy off guard, All her life she somewhat kept her cool but at this moment she was actually caught off guard, speechless. There was an awkward silence between them as the mutual attraction began to fester. Nancy, embarrassed just looks back at her Muse spot. (Y/n), even more embarrassed just keeps painting, now keeping his eyes off of her. He pursues his art for another hour and a half of awkwardly cute silence, the two eye each other for a moment and then go back to their jobs.

"Alright, done." He says, breaking the silence, Nancy stands up and stretches her legs a bit, standing on her tippy toes.

"Great, that took forever." She says and walks over next to him, she then finally gets to stand before the painting.

"I'm glad I'll be able to get to see this.."

Nancy halts her sentence looking at the painting, such colors, the way her hair was drawn with such cautious love and attention. Each stroke of the brush was meticulously made with care and complexity. Nancy was at a loss of words as he stood next to her, He smiles a bit, actually proud of himself.

"It's my best work, I want to call it...

"The Mystery Girl.."

Nancy just couldn't believe the attention to detail, the artistic flow of her hair, the almost heavenly like aura around Her, the perfect brush strokes that represented her eyes were an almost perfect color of hers, she just blinked a few times and turned to him.

"This is, Amazing. I knew you were in art class a lot but this is.. whew." She says slightly combing her hair to the side. It has a certain beauty to it all, and that Beauty was Nancy. She turns to him, so amused by what she's witnessing.

"You really are talented, Steve isn't into stuff like this, I don't know why." She says a bit sad, and (Y/n) felt the compliment in his heart, and wanted to feel like this more. He always thought Nancy was this mystery girl, so intriguing, so beautiful and consummate. Once he saw her in Mrs.Duffers history class, like a modern day Audrey Hepburn or a Lady Elsie. Such beauty should be encapsulated in a way to always be existing.

"Thanks. Uh, sorry for making you stay after school those times, I just wanted it to be, perfect." He says.

"No, you don't have to apologize it's, I can see it was really worth it, what do you plan on doing with it?" She asks, "The Painting." She says and he looks at it.

"Once it dries.. that's up to you." He says, Nancy looks at him confused, and realizes what he means.

"I-I can't take this, it took you days to make this." She says and looks back at it.

"Yeah, but it would be easier to explain to your Boyfriend and Parents that you got this made by a professional, than people asking why I have it." He replies. And Nancy looks at him, she was indecisive but then held her ground on it and grabbed him by the hand, it shocked him a bit and he turns to her.

"You're taking this with you, you made it, put it in an exhibit for aspiring painters or something. You deserve it, your Mystery Girl says so." She says with a hint of authority, it was more than enough for (Y/n) to nod sheepishly. She smiles and lets go of his hand. They were interrupted by a horn from outside. Nancy peeks out the window to see a car.

"That's Steve, gotta go." She says, Nancy turns and walks over, offering a handshake, he takes it and she smiles.

"It was nice being your muse." She says, and walks to grab her backpack and he nods, still staring.

"Yeah, it was nice." (Y/n) says and she gives him one last smile before leaving, (Y/n) stands there by himself before turning to the Painting.

"I guess I'll be seeing you.. Mystery Girl."

[literaila]

a constant state of bursting atoms. 

tasm!peter x fem!reader 

summary: stranger danger, and all that, except, of course when its a superhero. (part two) 

series masterlist.

warnings: the sames ones from part one but now also teenage boy, gwen is my queen in this btw 

a/n: orginally, in my head, this was going to be a lot longer. but then i started acting out aia and making up words and so we moved on. um, not much else, just, you’ve been warned. how many parts, you ask? couldnt tell you. thank you for reading. 

*

there's a slight shake of your head, small, subtle. as if you think that whatever you're seeing is fake. 

peter doesn't have the time to react properly before you're walking forward again, hands clenching by your sides, and he's forced to run forward to catch up with you. 

"you know my name," he says, obviously, stupidly. mostly because he's not willing to let you walk away without knowing what you're doing out so late. 

you turn to look at him again, eyes wider than before. 

"i thought i was dreaming." 

peter takes note of the circles hidden within the hollows of your cheeks, raining down on your face in a steady drip of exhaustion. he recognizes your bag--the one you always carry your books in--so he's assuming you haven't been home yet. 

he wonders, apprehensively, why you aren't there, in bed. 

peter looks down at himself for your benefit. "no," he says, head moving slowly. "no, i'm real," he angles his body opposite of yours, slowing starting to walk backward while facing you. "i think." 

it doesn't get the smile he was chasing, but gradually, you follow his command, beginning to walk forward. he moves a little bit faster as soon as you do. 

he can't help but think that you're very lucky he knows where you're going. 

"what're you doing?" you ask him, not unpolite, but more demanding than you'd intended--peter can tell, just from the way your face contorted after you said it. he almost grins to himself. 

"oh, you know," peter starts. "earlier i stopped a guy from robbing the bank on 50th. huge guy--he had the biggest gun i've ever seen," he makes a tiny gesture between his two hands, "not the brightest." 

you nod along, listening.  

"and now, i'm just..." he watches your eyes, takes a moment to look around for anyone else strolling along the streets. "taking a midnight stroll. and talking to strangers." he clicks his tongue. "speaking of, you doing alright?" 

your brow furrows. "what do you mean?" 

peter turns his body around, slowing his gate and putting a hand under his chin. "i don't know if you're aware of this- i mean you aren't wearing a watch," he makes a show of looking towards your wrists. "but it's very late. and dark." his hand follows his words, fists folding and unfolding. 

peter's thoughts flash, for a very brief moment, to the scolding he'd be giving you if it was weeks ago. if he wasn't a coward. if you knew it was him. 

he winces behind the mask. see, he's been trying not to remind himself of "if." 

your tilt your head up to the sky, looking up at it as if it's the first time you've seen it all day. 

peter wonders if it is. 

"you didn't know?" he asks after your silence fills the night air for a moment too long. 

you shake your head, waking up your eyes again, and looking back at him. you look a bit bewildered. "no, i knew it was late." you say, turning your head so that you can walk side-to-side with him and still keep your eyes attentive. sheepishly, you continue: "i meant to get home earlier but i fell asleep on the subway. it was a longer walk home than i expected." 

peter blinks--then realizes you can't see that. 

"how do you fall asleep on the subway?" he inquires, even though he's done the same thing himself. 

it's just a sentence to fill the words he really wants to say. 

"insomnia?" you answer, questionably. the color in your face is drained, a blank canvas, because of the cold. 

peter knows you're only wearing the one jacket. 

he nods. he's only now just noticed how many blocks far you are from home. a chill goes up his spine, giving him an answer to the thought that had just formed. 

"can i help you get home?" peter tilts the end of his words, trying to make the sentence seem less creepy.

your body is still tense as if you're worried someone is going to jump out from somewhere and yell "boo!" your eyes stay focused on peter, but he can see that it's more to observe him, not because you want to. 

you've never really liked strangers, he knows. 

and you prove that as soon as you start shaking your head. "it's not far," you say, adamantly. you smile though, just to be a graceful rejector. 

"it's cold." 

you shrug, burrowing yourself further into the jacket you're wearing. "not much." 

peter almost smiles, then catches himself, playing his laugh off as a cough. he can feel your goosebumps from a foot away. 

he knows why he's holding onto this--and it's not just because he's worried about you being out too late. 

he won't deny that he's missed your overly polite manner, the curiosity you hold for complete strangers. even ones wearing a costume. 

"okay," he sighs, stepping back in front of you, rubbing his gloves together to create friction. he rubs a gloved hand on the back of his neck. 

you're staring, not unkindly. maybe you're waiting for him to leave. 

"are you sure?" he checks, tilting his head. 

he's relieved when he sees you smile. when he knows that you know he's joking. you've caught on quickly. 

"are you this eager to help every innocent person you pass or are you just shaken up from the huge robber?" 

peter feels a steady feeling emerge from his chest, warming his suit from the inside out. 

he looks away from you, then back again, to see if you're smiling the same as he is, but when he looks over, your eyes have faded, your face shifting into something confused. 

you don't notice when he tilts his head, curious.  

you look at him, eyes still tentative. different from before. your face is blatant, shifting with every new thought you have. 

peter forgot just how intimidating that could be. he forgot that he was speaking to you as someone else. 

forgot that he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 

"yes," he deadpans, speaking too quickly all of the sudden. he nods his head, moving his numb fingers to make sure that his webs are still there. 

he nods again, looking up at the building closest to the two of you, and then back. 

he knows you can't see it, but he hopes you're intuitive enough to know that he's smiling. 

"just shout if you need help," he says. 

and then he's gone. leaving again. 

*

peter listens to the passing conversations as he walks the halls. 

the days have begun to blend together, an array of colors combining to make nothing but the dullest shade of brown. there is nothing to make them stand out; no interesting classes, no curious eyes peeking over his shoulder. he does not listen to the gentle melody of your laugh, he does not make fun of you for tripping down the stairs. 

he curses at himself every time he lets you cross his mind. 

if there was a wall he could make a mark on, he would. a cross-hatch full of guilty thoughts. 

and even when he tells himself not to, he can't bring himself to keep his head down through the halls. his eyes are attracted, attached, to the thought of you. 

so his head stays up, eyes drifting over every other person in the school, listening to conversation with the tiniest hope that he'll hear you say something. 

he's always surprised when he does. 

every time he hears your quiet voice echoing through the hallway, or he catches a glimpse of you--no matter how small, because, really, how can you quantify a burst of relief?--he's taken back. suddenly perishable at the memories he has of your face. 

and today, it's only a little bit worse. 

it's only the smallest bit harder to avert his eyes. he needed to make sure your face was clear of any clouds, of those dark drops, of the confusion and frustration that stuck to your eyes last night. 

he just wanted to ensure you were alright. it's a guilty pleasure, a bittersweet feeling striking his heart as soon as his eyes pass over you. 

it only takes a moment to fully observe your face--he could feel when you were coming. 

but as soon as he does, his emotions swirl into a dull grey, clouded by the way you keep your head down. 

you used to keep your eyes alert, checking to see if he was there yet. 

he checks a mark off of his wall, bangs his metaphorical head against the concrete. 

he's doing fine. 

he keeps his eyes on you, to the backside of your head, tilted down, avoiding any strangers. he watches you until you turn a corner, disappearing again. 

he doesn't need to look at you for the rest of the day. he uses that thought to force the familiar disappointment out of his head. 

peter is about to turn away, probably not to go to his next class, when he feels a hand drift a bit too close to his arm, too distracted to notice sooner. 

his eyes dart towards the hand, a smile forming as he looks at gwen accusingly. 

she just smiles back. 

peter swings his bag to the other arm, following gwen as she begins to walk through the halls. their pace is familiar, and so is the direction gwen leads him down. 

"what's with your face?" she asks, giving him the side-eye. 

"is it bruised?" peter brings an absent hand up to his eye, looking for any sore point he must have missed. 

gwen sighs. "no, that's fine," peter drops his hand. "i meant the puppy-dog eyes." she turns towards him, staring. 

peter blinks, holding her eyes a moment too long and then looking up. 

he didn't think she'd caught that. 

"i don't have puppy dog eyes," peter protests, angling his body away from her and keeping their path towards the bleachers. 

gwen snorts, climbing up the steps and putting her bag down. peter continues walking, pacing back and forth across the stairs. 

"you do for one person," gwen mutters as peter climbs along, pretending not to hear her. 

they've fallen into a routine, the two of them. a relationship born out of secrets and kept out of desperation. 

gwen sits with him most days, listening to whatever words manage to bubble out of his mouth without purpose. he knows that she enjoys his company--slightly, he thinks they could've been friends a lifetime ago--but mostly, he knows that she just feels pity for him.

not that she would say that. her kindness is unrelenting. 

"so," she drawls, running a hand through her hair while she toys through her bag. her eyes meet peters, an expected inquiring there. "are you feeling extra masochistic today or did you just have something in your eye?" 

"i didn't say anything-" peter starts. 

"you didn't have to," her smile is unkind, all-knowing. peter rolls his eyes with her. "did you talk to y/n?" 

peter stops his pacing, his back turned towards her. 

he purses his lips, feeling his fingers dig into his wrist. spider-man didn't ask for a name, and now, just hearing it, he knows that it was a good decision.

his strength is relentless, bruises form on his wrists, filling the piece that's missing. 

he shakes his head, small movement. "no- i told you." his fingers let go, a breath escapes him. "i told you why i cant-" 

"you told me you were being an idiot," peter turns around, faking hurt eyes at her. "and i told you-" 

"gwen-" 

"that you're just putting yourself through pain for no reason." 

peter winces. he runs his eyes over every spare object he can see. breathes in the air just enough to smell nothing at all. he scans the area in every possible way, with every sense he knows how to use. 

and still, it's not enough distraction to keep that feeling away. 

the one he's been avoiding, the one he removed from his dictionary. 

he marks the wall again, feeling the guilt invade his body in a steady pulse of dull colors. 

"it's not for no reason." he's firm on that. already decided. he leaves no room for argument. 

gwen doesn't seem to care. "is it making you feel better?" she asks, voice filled with disbelief. "is it making her feel better?" 

peter goes and sits down next to her, shaking his head while he slides the book in her lap into his own. he plays with the pages, not breaking eye contact with gwen. 

she smirks at his restless hands but refuses to break the staring contest. 

"it will," peter whispers, hesitant. 

he's sure, he promises. 

and he knows the rest of gwen's argument. he's seen the antithesis written on the walls. he's heard the screams from miles away. he's checked his texts for more and more understanding, feeling disappointed when he finds none. 

he knows--really--that this is hurting you. he knows you well enough to know that. 

"in a couple of weeks," he starts but gwen scoffs so peter corrects himself. "months, it will be different. i never thought it would be easy-" 

"why don't you just tell her?" the question repeats itself in his head, an erasable pen with red ink. it's plastered into his brain, a constant repetition of the same words. 

why don't you tell her? he's thought. but only selfishly, only for himself. 

he barely lets himself think the words now. 

he shakes his head, fast, quickly, insistent. "i cant." 

and that's all. he pretends not to hear gwen sigh, pretends not to listen to the irritation in both of their voices. he's not exactly sure why he allowed this conversation to happen in the first place. 

gwen takes her book back, giving peter the chance to stand up again, to resume his energy, his pacing back and forth. 

a constant state of bursting atoms. 

it's a moment before gwen begins speaking again, ignoring the obvious tension. "you're not going to tell me why you were staring?" 

peters mind returns to the present, to the original point. 

he winces, already knowing that this is about to get worse. 

"uh," he turns to face gwen again, expression full of nothing but shame. "a certain-" he clears his throat. "-spider-like hero had an interaction with a certain civilian last night-" 

"you didn't." 

"and, as an attentive person i just wanted to make sure that everything was in order-" peters words begin to slow, hands following his movements. he doesn't need to look at gwen to see her scolding eyes. "this morning." he finishes. 

he turns back around, whistling as he fakes his nonchalance. 

he really is an idiot. 

"you did not put on a costume and go talk to y/n when you won't even-" 

"it was really late," peter says, in his own defense. 

gwen just sighs, throwing her head back and groaning. 

peter's wince feels inadmissible. 

"peter, you know that's not fair." her voice is soft, convincing, as she tells him. peter would honestly prefer a chiding. 

"i know, i know." he mutters, turning back around to go sit next to her. 

"you can't do that. not if you're not going to tell her the truth." 

and peter doesn't even need to answer. 

he knows.

and yet. 

*

he doesn't mean to scare you again. 

and, he promises to himself as soon as he's seen enough to recognize you, it wasn't his intention to talk with you--like this, blurry eyes and all--ever again. 

and yet, how can he blame himself when you're walking the streets alone, eyes facing the ground in an attempt to yield yourself from the streetlights, bag rattling against your leg? 

his body is exhausted, aching from overexertion, and still, his eyes managed to find their way to you. 

he doesn't let himself wonder why you're still up, why you're still outside in the stiff, cold air. that seems unfair. 

he wouldn't be asking those questions if you were anyone else. 

and so, he tries not to note the way you flinch when his feet hit the ground. 

"i'm starting to think you're a bit of a night owl," he says, standing up in front of you, keeping his hands where you can see them. 

it's the unconscious acts that'll kill him. 

your eyes pass down him, blinking rapidly. "that would make you the same." your voice is rough, groggy, hidden beneath the thick air. your shoulders are slouched, caving into yourself. you look more exhausted than he feels. 

or maybe peter's imagining things. 

"don't worry," he laughs, moving, in turn, to walk with you. "i was just waiting for a stranger to show up." 

your brow furrows for a moment, eyes drifting away from the ones you weren't aware you were looking at. 

"are you going to ask me if i'm cold again?" you say, just loud enough for him to hear, somewhat irritated, somewhat amused. "because i can assure you, i'm not. just tired." 

"fall asleep on the subway, again?" his voice is more pleasant than yours, a perfect collection of syllables, a perfectly practiced question. 

he wonders if you don't recognize his voice, or if you've just forgotten how he sounds. 

either way, he's not supposed to care, he reminds himself. the exhaustion is getting to him. 

the smile on his face feels cheap, a knock-off from the actual version. 

"no, unfortunately." your eyes turn back to him, dark circles looking brighter underneath the streetlights. 

"then how come i'm here, making sure you don't get murdered?" his voice, he hopes you don't notice, is tainted with something serious. he's unconsciously reached a hand out towards you, trying to lessen the distance between the two of you. 

he pulls it back, feeling claustrophobic in his suit. 

"do you save a lot of people getting murdered?" peter looks over to you, surprised to see that you're genuinely curious, eyes a bit brighter with the emotion. 

you run a hand over your face, scratching at your jaw while you stare at him, lips pursed in a gentle lull. 

he almost lets himself get distracted by the movement. 

instead, nods and tilts his head, letting his sarcasm be heard in his voice: "no, mostly i just help old ladies crossing the street." 

your head tilts up, small grin playing at your lips. "that's a joke, right?" 

peter nods, actually, this time. 

you nod with him, walking slowly. there's something about your slow pace, the steady rate of your breathing--exact. as if you're counting the seconds it takes--that makes peters eyes follow you, looking down to where your hand is tapping a steady beat against your leg. 

you're biding your time, trying not to walk too fast--he remembers, a conversation, just something you told him a long time ago. about how to waste time. 

you're more than tired, he knows. 

"how far away is your house?" he asks, keeping the apprehension out of his voice. 

your eyes snap up, roaming over his masked face. when it was just the two of you, before, you read him differently than anyone else ever had. you saw a brief twitch in his lips and knew everything he was thinking. 

he's almost thankful you can't do that now. 

"a couple more blocks from here," you say, nodding. "not far." 

peter swings his body, slowly, until he's standing in front of you, hand on his chin in a joking manner. 

he waits for you to stop, and once you do, trying to avoid knocking into his body, he begins to speak. "don't you think a sleep-deprived superhero might be a cause for concern?" 

your brows furrow, staring up at him--a masked stranger with a strange sense of humor. "...i guess so." 

peter hums, turning around so begin walking again, exaggerating his movements so your eyes stay focused on him. 

he hears you take a few hesitant steps forward. 

"if this is you saying that you have to get home..." you leave the end of the sentence off, allowing him a moment to agree or disagree. when peter doesn't, enjoying your curious and awake voice, you continue. "i'm sure i'll be okay for another ten minutes alone." 

peter turns around and bursts out laughing, clapping his hands together while you stare at him confused. 

"what?" you ask, looking strongly concerned for his sanity. 

"where do you live?" he asks, voice returning to normal in an instant. 

or as normal as he's allowed to make it around you. 

immediately, you're walking past him, smile just a bit moronic. "that's a bit personal, don't you think, spider-man?" you're looking at him like he's bizarre. like this is the weirdest conversation you've ever had. 

he's really trying not to notice how your eyes have peeked up, your body holding itself up, the tension in your back disappearing as if it had never been there. he's trying not to observe you the way a friend would. it's just... 

"well, as the only other person out here at this current moment," he pretends to look around and check. "no, i don't." 

you scoff, still staring at him. 

"i'm tired," he says, a bit more pleadingly than intended. "you're tired." he doesn't allow you a moment to argue. 

he moves a little bit closer to you. 

"i'm not tired," you tell him as if it isn't midnight. 

and he can see himself, a desire in front of his eyes, moving in front of you, tracing the darkness under your eyes, moving your face so he can observe, just close enough, for a moment. he sees himself, unafraid of you and the stronghold you have on him. 

and then he shakes his head, banning any more images from showing up. 

"it'll take a minute," peter promises, still a couple of feet away from you. "i'm just going to swing you home, and then i'll leave. i can't let you walk around at night, again." 

"because of... moral obligation?" you ask him, confused eyes not letting go. your voice is shaking, freezing without the motion keeping your body awake. he notes the difference from the other night to now--the curiosity that's spread itself across your face. rather than the frustration, he saw before. 

"it physically hurt me, last time," he tells you, voice monotone. 

you sigh quietly, looking around. 

peter can see the resistance in your face falter. hopefully, you've realized that he's not going to give up. 

"i'll be-" you start, voice drawing off as you notice one of peter's hands fiddling with his wrists. "swing?" you clarify, voice going higher with the word. 

peter nods, tilting his head. "it's not dangerous," he smiles. "i have some experience." 

you stare down at the floor, digging the heel of your shoe into the ground awkwardly. "do you require payment, or will you just put it on my tab?" 

"no tab." he rests his chin on his fist. "my only requirement is that you stop falling asleep on the subway." his voice is amused, his body relaxed as he stares at you. 

you ignore that, he can tell, and grab your bag to hold it closer to your side. "only a minute?" you ask him. 

peter nods. he clears his throat, suddenly feeling the worry hit--your unrelenting trust in him is very motivating. "can i touch you?" he asks softly, holding his hands out in a gesture of innocence.  

you shake your head, eyes wide as you stare at him. and then you look up, all the way, a bit terrified at the height. 

"i'm only doing this because i've seen you on the news," you say, voice a bit like you're trying to threaten him. "and," you look back down. "you seem pretty good at it." you contort your face into something hard, trying to make yourself look less terrified. 

he does not find it intimidating whatsoever, but he nods his head in agreement. his hands are still out, patiently waiting for your permission. 

"okay," you say. 

and in a motion to grab you, peter pretends that there's no weight in the words. 

he pretends he doesn't feel you relax into his arms. 

*

peter shuts your window with a sudden rattle of wind coming over his body. 

he waves gently, keeping his head up as he watches you slip off your shoes. you give him a smile as a final goodbye. 

he feels insane. 

he feels his body, moving, insistent against the night air. he feels his mind beg to go back inside, to tell you the truth, to stop pretending that this is okay. 

the silence alone is enough to convince him. 

peter begs for the guilt to leave. he begs for this not to feel so much like lying when all he's trying to do is keep you safe. 

he feels like a monster, now, with his mask on. running after you in the dark because he was worried that you might've been alone. 

he swings away in an instant, going as far as his arm will allow him before releasing. 

he wasn't supposed to do that. 

any of it. 

he wasn't supposed to find you again, he wasn't supposed to care about the recklessness you had decided on, he wasn't supposed to care that you looked so tired. and he wasn't supposed to care that he just wanted a smile out of you. 

he should scribble all over the wall now. he's just broken every unspoken rule. 

he's let exhaustion cloud his judgment, a foolish mistake he thinks he'll probably make again. 

he thinks of how fast you were to trust him--spider-man--and he wonders if maybe that's supposed to show that he's doing the right thing. you have a good intuition, don't you? 

he thinks of your awake eyes, filled with a color that looked different to him lately. a color different from the night before. 

he feels the guilt drip down his skin in a gentle flood. he feels it touching every point of his skin, something poisonous. 

but still, he can feel the lines of a smile on his face. 

if he concentrates enough, he can ignore the guilt--shove it aside--and he can focus on the steady melody of his heartbeat, sounding a bit like how he felt when he made you laugh. 

it's been weeks. weeks of dull colors, and ruined emotions. 

and then there were two days, singular moments within smaller hours, where new colors appeared. 

and he hates it, he hates that he can't even do the one thing he promised himself he would do.

he hates that he's hurt you so plainly just to go and seek you out like this. 

but then, he feels exhaustion wear on him. 

and as he goes home, heartbeat louder than the wind in his ears, he thinks that maybe he can offer you something else. 

he thinks of the shift in your face tonight, the laughter he's pleaded to himself for. 

he thinks that he could do it, again. 

even from a skintight suit. 

* 

my masterlist here. 

part three. 

[kouomi]

Golden Touches

Summary: Everyone is born with marks that turn gold when your soulmate touches you. How could meeting someone for the first time turn into meeting your soulmate? (F!Reader x Tsukishima Kei)

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 1,558

A/N: sorry for getting this out late! I don’t think this is my best work as it’s the first thing I ever wrote for Haikyuu but here it is!

My Masterlist

Posted: March 26 2020, 6:15 PM EST

(Pic that inspired this)

Everyone was painted with colors. Each individual was their own canvas that had splotches of paint splattered across their skin that almost looked random had you not known what they meant. That’s how your parents explained it to you, at least. When you’re born your marks are black which are how most people’s are, but when a specific person touches them they turn gold; this specific person being your soulmate. The marks were where the hands of your soulmate would touch you for the first time. The most common mark people had was small streaks on their hands or arms where their soulmates hand would graze their skin temporarily, some had their palm painted black along with the shadow of fingers on the back of their hand, and some even had a hand print or knuckles painted on their cheek where they’d inevitably be hit. Everyone’s was unique to them, and they each held their own future story.

You stated at your marks everyday, always wondering if today would be the day they’d go from black splotches to lovely sparkles. Your marks were much less generic than most, a large handprint angled with the tips of the fingers towards your shoulder splayed across the front corner of the base of your neck, your collarbone, and the top of your chest. It was rather unusual and the way it was positioned made it seem like they’d be behind you which confused you even more. You were happy to have a unique mark as it made the moment you’d meet them feel more special, but it constantly left you wondering about the conditions of when you’d meet, what situation you’d be in where that would be the first place someone would touch you.

It was a rather warm day as it was nearing summer so you’d left the top buttons of your uniform unbuttoned and let your jacket slip off of your shoulders and hang loosely around your elbows. Your eyes lazily skimmed over the crowds of your classmates, jealously spiking in you every time you saw someone with gold splashed across their skin instead of black. Very few people met their soulmates in high school and you envied those that were so lucky as to do so.

“Y/n!” You look up and find Yachi waving a hand in front of your face. “Can you come with me to the volleyball practice after school?”

“Hm? Why?”

“So we can work on the project after school,” She reminded you and you inwardly cringe at the mention of it, “We still have to finish it before tomorrow.”

“Sure, I’ll be there.” You answer, watching as a wide smile crosses the blondes face.

“Great, see you there!” She waves before heading down the stairs and getting lost in the crowd.

A heavy sigh leaves you as you pull out your phone and put in your earbuds, clicking on your playlist and letting the noise of your favorite song fill your ears. You did your best to ignore the stares of others as you made your way to the cafeteria, though you always knew they were there. You’d gotten used to being stared at by people who were examining your soulmate mark but it never made it any less annoying. You’d had some of these “admirers” come up from behind you and not so graciously lay their hand on your chest trying to match up to your mark, always landing a slap to the face after they did so. You didn’t know how many times you’d had to tell them off that it couldn’t be justified just by what they claimed was curiosity but it never changed anything.

“Hey Y/n, what’s up?” Hinata asks with a small wave.

“Hi Hinata, Kageyama.” You greet, slowing your pace for a moment so they can catch up to you. “I’m gonna be at your practice today.”

“Why?”

“Yachi and I have a project,” You reply “what, do you not want me there or something?”

“What? No!” Kageyama exclaims making you and Hinata laugh.

“Calm down I was joking.”

The three of you continue to poke fun at each other all the way to the cafeteria, especially you and Hinata making Kageyama mad as it was easy to do so with the quick tempered setter.

“Do you two ever stop fighting?” Another voice says as they approach your table. You turn around and find two boys, one a very tall blond with glasses and an annoyed look on his face and the other a more timid looking boy with green hair and freckles.

“Who’s that?” You ask your friends as the new boys sit down.

“This is Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.” Hinata says, “They’re on the volleyball team.”

“Hi!” Yamaguchi greets with a welcoming smile, “nice to meet you.”

“You too.” You reply with similar smile.

The other boy, Tsukishima, doesn’t say anything, only glances at you before looking back at his food. He seems like to be the quiet type, his silent judging stare would probably warn off anyone else but you found it amusing. Your eyes scanned them for their soulmate marks, finding them after a few moments. Yamaguchis was mostly covered by the sleeve of his shirt but you could slightly make out the edge of a black mark around his wrist and on the back of Tsukishimas hand you could see a smaller black hand print, the mark going around the side of his hand so the thumb was on his palm.

“Do you make a habit of staring?” The blonde asks, making you look up from his hand as he pulls it away, hiding it out of sight under the table.

“Curiosity’s natural.” You shrug in response, smirking when his expression flashes to shock before he covers it with slight disgust. He clicks his tongue, his eyes temporarily flashing down to look at your mark before he looks back to his food.

After lunch your evening classes dragged by, none of your teachers words sticking to your brain as you watched the clocks hands slowly tick by. Finally after what felt like hours the last bell rang and let you out of your final class, filing into the stream of students exiting the school. As everyone else left you stopped at your locker, leaving your books inside before heading towards the gym where volleyball practice was held. You stared down at your phone as you walked so you couldn’t see anything else around you, the world around you practically lost to your senses.

“Watch out!” A voice yells, forcing you to look up and see a volleyball flying towards you.

You freeze up as the ball cuts through the air, your feet planted in the ground though you knew you should move out of the path of the object. You’re suddenly yanked to the side by someone who was behind you, your phone being knocked out of your hand and to the ground by the sudden movement. Their hand was firm on the front of your body as their arm was crossing your body having pulled you into themselves just as the ball slams into where you were standing seconds before. Your hand flies up to grip theirs, your heart pounding at the close encounter.

The person behind you quickly retracts their arm making you turn around, surprise taking on your expression as you see who’d saved you.

“How could you be so stupid as to not move out of the way of the ball flying at your face?” Tsukishima asks with a scoff, leaning down to pick up your phone. You were about to snap back at him, a rebuttal on the tip of your tongue though it’s quickly lost when you see the once black hand that was on his had turned gold.

“Are you just gonna stare at me again?” He scoffs as he reaches out to hand you your phone, his eyes widening when he sees a flash of gold on your chest.

Almost simultaneously you look down at yourself and he looks at his hand before you look back at each other’s marks and finally at each other.

“No fucking way.” You whisper to yourself, seeing the shocked look in his eyes.

It’s dead silent between the two of you for what feels like a lifetime, his hand still holding out your phone as you both try to figure out something to say. How could he be your soulmate when you’d only met this morning? Had the universe somehow made a mistake?

Tsukishimas eyes bare into your from behind his glasses as for once he finds himself at a loss for words, trying to piece together how this was his soulmate. He doesn’t know you. There was nothing forcing him to talk to you or start a relationship solely based off of the marks. Yet,

Yet there was something pulling you towards him. Something in you was drawing closer to him, taking your hand and dragging you along. There was some part of him that had sparked something in you, and whether it was just the surprise of your soulmate marks or it was a genuine feeling, you found yourself giving into it, a smile crossing your face.

“Tsukishima, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” He responds, still processing what had happened, “You’re the weirdo duos friend.”

“It’s Y/n. We’re...”

“Soulmates.”

You both smile.

“Soulmates.”

[red-riding]

Tolkien Elves Clothing Headcannons

Please read: These are only my headcanons, meaning my ideas and interpretations of what Tolkien's elves would have worn based on the text, my clothing knowledge, and imagination. I am in no way claiming this is how it should be. Also I own none of the photos used in this post. 

Also this is obnoxiously long and wordy, so if you skip to a section that interests you, I won't judge. I may have went ( A lot ) over bored ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Also I just want to say thank you so much for all the support I got on the post asking if I should do this, I hope it lives up to everyones expectations. 

Sources

Okay so in going on this journey of research, I ran into an issue. What culture or cultures to base the clothes off of. My first thought was to have each elven group take ideas from different human cultures. Which makes sense to an extent.

I feel elves would all dress more similar than different across Tolkien’s universe. My reason for this is all the elves started out in the same place (the awakening) and were all exposed to the same things. I believe their clothing would be strongly influenced by the Valar due to Orome’s influence in the beginning and since elves are immortal this influence would not die out as generations go on (I talk about this in the trends section of this post).

If you look in human societies throughout history, they are often unified culturally, despite being far apart, by a religion and I'm applying this to elves. They would emulate the Valar’s clothing in my mind.

Okay now that I narrowed down that I want to use one culture mostly, what culture to pick? There honestly is no right answer to this I feel, but i'm going with European influence (Which is super general I know) since that is where the concept of elves originates from and Tolkien was English. Elves started making their way into stories and poetry in around the 1500s, so that gives me a general area and date to start forming my headcanon. I'm also going to take quite a lot of liberties and take influence from the Lord of the rings films, and general fantasy aesthetics as well to form these headcanons.

Fabrics

When talking about clothes the first place to start is what they are made of: the fabric. What kind of fabric would the elves use and have available to them. When coming up with this I considered two main things, One how durable the fabric is and two could elves make it.

I think durability would be extremely important to elves. According to the International textile association, the average regularly worn garment will last two to three years. Imagine how short of a time period that is to elves! This is why I believe durability would be extremely important to elves, they want something to last. especially the less wealthy elves because they can not afford constant new clothing.

I am only going to list clothing I think the elves could realistically make, so no polyester, plastic and chemical based fabrics.

Considering these two things I have come up with this list using this website as reference. 

Canvas

Cashmere 

Chenille 

Chiffon 

Cotton

Georgette (Silk variety) 

jersey (Silk and cotton variety) 

Leather and Animal Skins/furs 

Wool (And all its woven variants) 

Muslin 

Lace

Satin 

Silk (And all its differently woven Variants)

Taffeta 

Velvet 

Silhouette 

Note: We are looking at shape/Silhouette in this section, don't mind the colors or fabrics in my reference photos. 

So if you study fashion history and culture at all you know the silhouette is one of the defining things of a culture and era. This brings on the question of what the Silhouette for elves would be. I think elves would share one general silhouette with similarities between the male and female silhouettes but have differences as well. This also applies to elves of different lands. They may have the same general silhouette with slightly different things.  

For Elleths

For the common elleth silhouette I am going to say one thing SLEEVES. This is taking inspiration from both the LOTR movie and 1500s european paintings and fashion. long graceful sleeves is something I think would be an elven stable on formal/evening gowns. I feel there would be different styles of sleeves however the most common would be something like this. However I will say for casual work wear they would yield unhelpful. 

Another thing I feel most elleth dresses would have is a waist seam. This is one thing I strongly dislike about the LOTR movie dress, a majority of the dresses at their base looks like a modern slip dress or a night gown and im not a fan. I understand this was probably a stylistic choice to represent how refined and ellagent the elves were, but to me it just looks like an ill fitted fast fashion nightgown. Here is a link to a good example photo if you want to look. Almost no dresses until the last hundred years lacked a waist seam like this. Some cultures don't have a waist seam in woman clothing but will almost always have a belt like garnet if there is no seam. And I personally think waist seemed gowns, look far more elegant. Plus 1500s european gowns all had waist seams so we are adding a waist seam. 

Now the skirt, I feel it would be simple and more on the flat flowing side. No hoop skirts or bum roles for the elves. I do think in some gowns they may add some under lawyers to add volume and or warmth. 

For Ellons 

I actually really like the LOTR movies interruption of elven male robes for formal situations, Here is an example. I also think similar styles but shorter would be worn by either younger ellons or ellons wanting to branch out in a different style for a formal occasion. Here is an example. 

For General Elves 

I feel something both genders would share in their formal and non formal clothes is the use of capes in very versatile ways. The cape could have a function like keeping one warm, or just be purely for show and drastic flare as one descends from their throne *cough* Thranduil, Feanor *Cough*. Here are some examples: Example 1, Example 2, Example 3. 

Now onto the talk of practical clothing. No matter how graceful elves are they can not wear gowns and robes when training or horse back riding. I imagine simple slacks and tunics would be a common site among elves who do physical activities. What Legolas wears in the lord of the rings, is perfect I feel. Practical and rather similar to what humans wear. Here is the example. 

Colors

I feel the elves would have clothing of all colors overall. depending on a couple things. Elves' clothing colors would be different depending on the environment and what dyes they have available in it. As well as what colors function best in an environment, so a lot of greens.

I don't think elven royals would enforce any laws that limits what colors an elf can wear depending on class like most royals throughout human history have. I do feel that certain elven houses, or elves would take on certain color themes. For example I believe Feanor and his house would wear a whole lot of reds, and blacks. While Finarfin and his house would be wearing more blues, whites and silver.

I think plant based dyes would be the most common among elves, making their clothing fall more on earthy toned down colors, opposed to bright synthetic ones we are used to (See mood board above). I do think some brighter colors could be achieved by dying a garment multiple times or using a rarer material like minerals. However I feel majorly would be as I said earthy and natural.

Embellishments 

I believe elves would dabble in all forms of embellishments on their clothing, I mean they have so much time on their hands so why not? I think embroidery would probably be the most common, Little swirled designs on hems and such. Bead work probably would be reserved for more formal garments, due to it being done with crystals and gems and taking lots of time.

I think what designs elves created would mostly be inspired by nature. Different flowers, birds, and stars being the most common.

I think some elven royals would have robes glistened with sewed on diamonds and jewels, to draw attention to themselves and show status.

Environments 

(Note: The way I arranged this mood board above is by environment. So Beach/tropical first row, Temperate forest middle, and snowy cold place third row.)

I feel the main thing that will be changing between different environments and temperatures is what materials they use. Fur and wool lined cloaks and robes for cold places. Light breathable fabric, decorated with sea shells for tropical beach environments. And cotton and medium warmth clothing for forests. I also feel for hunting clothing elves in forests would wear green, and in snowy areas would wear white furs.

I believe elves would still maintain the same general silhouette in different areas (Go to the Silhouette section for more details) just adding on layers and warmer fabrics in colder places.

Trends

So this section does not get a mood bored because I could not think of what that would be.

Trends are something extremely prevalent throughout human culture, often decided by those in power: Celebrities nowadays and in the past royalty. I don't think elves would have trends like we do, for two main reasons.

Reason one is as I said, trends in the past were decided by royals and oftentimes when a new royal took throne fashions would change in their image. However elven rulers don't die of old age like humans, they live forever. making the constant change of trends not occur with each new ruler because there is not a new ruler often. When there is a new ruler it is most likely extremely tragic because that means the past ruler died, and the next  (Most likely a child of the old ruler ) would probably not want to cause a drastic change in clothing out of respect.

Reason two being age groups. Trends often times change as new age groups move into the prime of their life and old generations die out. However elves are immortal and don't die out. I have no doubt younger elves would dress somewhat differently but there would be no massive clothing changes, In silhouette or fabrics due to the older elves pushing back against it. As well as the elves wanting to continue emulating the Valar.

Everyone who asked to be tagged and I want to show this too: @psychostatic, @deep-space-elf, @bitter-sweet-farmgirl, @tiefliing, @animallover81, @softnessfrommyheart, @xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx, @hardinginhightowns, @xirinofarvada, @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth, @brannonlasgalen, @most-random-blog-with-stuff, @aduialel, @a-dragon-under-the-stars, @proffyaffle, @estel-means-hope, @eldritch-gilthoniel, @tsuyu-sama, @lady-of-black-roses, @perhaps-iwilltry, @lady-latte, @allinwonderlands , @saviorsong, @entishramblings, @rowandor, @halfwaytheremama, @tran-khuetu​, @tolkien-fantasy​

[reginaphillange08]

Homecoming

(Bokuto Kotarou)

a/n : honestly just a cute msby bokuto one-shot cause I love him 😩 my longing to be loved really showed in this one 😐

summary: being the girlfriend of a professional volleyball player wasn't always easy. Bokuto would have to leave for months at a time. It's your first time seeing him in two months and you planned the perfect evening for him.

warnings: NSFW!! Minors don’t interact this contains smut. Pretty fluffy, almost too much fluff, then some smut at the end because who doesn’t like MSBY bokuto.

word count : 3218 (IM SORRY I GET CARRIED AWAY WITH FLUFF BUT ITS CUTE AND YOU’LL LIKE IT)

-nsfw-

It was the first night you were gonna be able to spend with your boyfriend in about two months. With him being a professional volleyball player, you knew this was a part of the deal. You two had obviously kept in contact over the break with daily texts and video calls whenever time permitted. The distance and time apart had taught you both patience and to value the time you two had together. You missed him so much, his bright presence, his golden eyes that bore into yours, his contagious smile. Bokuto meant the world to you and you were so excited to finally see your lover after so much time.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were wearing a brand new lingerie set you had gotten just for this occasion. You made sure to never wear it whenever you two had a night of sexy pictures or naughty video calls. This one was a dark hunter green and it complimented your (s/c) skin well. It hugged your curves in a delicious way, as it left little to the imagination. You put some makeup on and luckily today was a good hair day. You couldn't lie, you looked so alluring, it was almost sinful. After gawking at yourself in the mirror you put on your dress getting ready for dinner.

You had known he was coming home tonight for a while so you planned the perfect evening. To be completely truthful, you were so needy for him that you just want him to take you on the kitchen table. However this was Bokuto's first night back in a while, and you love him and wanted to make tonight special. The past two months without him have been pretty tough. No matter how many times he had to go away for volleyball, you never quite got used to the lack of his presence. Whether it was in the morning and you weren't greeted with his bright smile to start the day, or in the middle of the day when you walked into the kitchen and he was dancing to your favorite songs while he cooked, or the random kisses on the cheek throughout the day. Things were just a little less colorful without bokuto around in your little shared apartment. That's why you were elated to welcome him back home.

You had prepared his favorite meal for when he came home, and put on his favorite record. You decided to wear a dress he got you a while back on one of your dates. He absolutely adored that dress on you, and it's one of your favorites too. It was your favorite color and it hugged your figure beautifully. It fit like it was tailored specially for you.

You heard a knock and you practically sprinted full speed to the front door. You already knew who it was so you excitedly swung it open and you were met with your beautiful boyfriend and his warm smile. Your smile was from ear to ear as you threw yourself into his arms. You wrapped yours arms tightly around his neck as he buried his face into yours. His arms snaked around your waist as he held you like he hadn't seen you in 10 years. Truthfully that's how it felt. You finally whispered to him while still engulfed in his broad frame, "you're finally home baby, I missed you so much, you have no idea". He holds you a little tighter and says "I know baby, I missed you so so so much. You look so beautiful tonight, I'm really happy to see you (y/n)". You break away from the hug to finally give him a kiss. You stand on your tippy toes to reach him and he bent down a little to meet you. He holds your face in his hands and you rake your hands through his hair. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, a seemingly desperate attempt to make up for missed time. The kiss is one you get lost in, falling into it headfirst. You two quickly closed the distance between you, bodies pressed up against each other destroying any personal space either of you had before. His hands moved from your face down your body and he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you closer to his body. You kept playing with his hair while you two kissed because you knew it was one of his favorite things. What started as one passionate kiss quickly spiraled into a heated makeout session. Lips still connected and bodies still intertwined, he guided you through the door and closed it behind him.

He quickly threw his bags down in a haste and returned to your lips. Taking off his jacket while you two kissed. He was tugging at the hem of your dress and you were so close to just ripping it off but you hesitated. He sensed your pause and he pulled away and had a concerned look on his face. "Is everything okay (y/n)?" he said. You nodded your head and assured him, "yeah baby of course, I just needed a minute. I wanted to show you what I did for you". You giggled shyly and gestured to the food on the table. It was decorated with some candles and flowers. His eyes widened as he gave you a big smile, he looked at you and said "You did this all for me?". You shake your head and say "no it's actually for my other boyfriend, he's actually gonna be here in a few. Do you mind getting a move on?" You laugh and push him lightly. "Of course it's for you Kou"

He gives you a sweet smile and enveloped you into another warm hug. He plants a kiss on your forehead and says "Thank you baby, you make me the luckiest guy in the world". You two sit down and share the meal together. You absolutely loved having meals with Kotaro. Always getting lost in conversation, it was the best time to talk about everything the other had missed. You two exchanged stories of the past two months you spent apart, mostly laughing at his silly encounters with the rest of his team. You told him how work was going and the new books you were reading.

You finished eating and Bokuto helped you clean off the table. You had flipped the record so it wasn't silent as you did the dishes. You then resumed cleaning up and Bokuto took the rag out of your hand and held your smaller hands in his own. He brought them up to his lips and left soft kisses along your knuckles. He said "Thank you for tonight (y/n), I really appreciate all the kind things you do for me. I love you so much". You held his face with one hand and squeezed his hand with the other. You looked into his eyes kindly and said "Of course Kou, I missed you and wanted to make it special for when you came back home. I love you too". He kissed your forehead and you two continued to clean up.

You were at the sink rinsing off the dishes when Bokuto walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you from behind. You put your hair up messily with a clip just to get it out of your face for now, so your neck was exposed. He kissed your neck and took a deep breath and then whispered to you "baby you smell sooo good". You giggle and say thank you and continue rinsing the last few dishes in the sink. He eyed you like you were his next meal. He saw the way your skin looked so soft, and the way your hair still seemed to shine when in the dim kitchen. The soft glow in your eyes when you'd look back to him every so often. The way your dress dipped in the back exposing some of your back. He decided to take advantage of the vast canvas and began placing kisses along your neck and back. Delicate kisses became playful nips at your skin. He then started painting the area with little red bruises that would later turn purple. You put down the dish you were rinsing and cleaned your hands.

While he was attacking your back with hickeys and love bites you held onto the back of his neck as if you would fall if you let go. He sucked the sweet spot on your neck eliciting a quiet moan from your lips. He immediately held you tighter and whispered "you're gonna drive me crazy with that voice of yours baby, don't hold back. I like hearing you".

You turned around and caught yourself in another heated kiss with him. You lifted yourself onto the counter with his hands guiding your hips. You opened your legs to make room for his broad body. You had your arms resting on his neck with fingers twirling around his dual toned locks. His tongue had grazed your bottom lip as if asking for permission. You granted it eagerly and your tongues began to dance in a fit of passion and urgency. Both exploring each other's mouths with care but also immense drive. You two hadn't been able to hold, touch, or kiss one another in what felt like years. The excitement and satisfaction of finally having him here and all over you was setting you on fire. You begin to take off his shirt while still sloppily making out. You pulled back just to admire the art that is Bokuto Kotaro shirtless. Running your fingers along his defined pecs, tracing his abs with your fingertips lightly. You give him a kiss then you hop off the counter.

You take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. The room was all cleaned up and you had twinkling fairy lights turned on. It was pretty dim and the bed had rose petals on it. You might've been a little too excited and went overboard but you look over to Bokuto and it instantly made it all worth it. He had a huge smile on his face and said "(y/n) you're really gonna be the death of me". You laugh and kiss his cheek

Your two lips crashed into each other in a needy kiss. The kiss quickly turns urgent again. You begin stumbling backward while you two kiss, hell bent on getting to the bed as quick as possible. Truthfully, because you two were apart for so long, this heated makeout session already had you wet.

You finally reach the bed and he pushes you onto it. He then follows you and hovers over you. His large frame seems to consume your smaller build. He begins to plant kisses on your jaw and down your neck as he runs his large hands up and down the smooth curves of your body. His touch drove you mad, no matter how delicate or light. His fingertips grazing your soft skin lit a fire in you. You begin to take off his pants with a little help from him. You reach down to pull off his boxers only for him to grab you by your wrists and pinning them to the bed above your head.

He leans down and whispers "have patience baby, I'm gonna take my time with you tonight". He leans back to look at you, he adored the way you looked underneath him. He let go of your wrists and began to slip your dress off you. He gawked at your brand new lingerie set and let out the biggest grin. "You wore this just for me angel?" You grin sheepishly with a light blush dusting the apples of your cheeks. "Mhm" you replied softly. He strokes your hair and looks into your eyes lovingly and says "you're so beautiful (y/n)"

You kiss him passionately and say thank you. He takes off your bra and looks at the soft mounds that were hidden away. He absolutely loved them. He begins to massage them gently and knead them with his hands as he kisses your collarbone. He looked into your eyes as he took one of your hardened nubs into his mouth and rolled the other nipple between his fingers. He starts kissing the swell of your chest and painting it with little bruises. The occasional love bite would make you moan softly. Your moans were the most beautiful symphony to him, spurring him on. Further encouraging him to please you.

He left a trail of kisses from your chest down your stomach to your underwear. He put his fingers in the waistband and looked up at you for permission. You run your finger through his hair and nod lightly with a smile. He pulled off the lacy dark green garment and threw it to the side. He pushed your legs apart and eyed your glistening core.

He started with just a kitten lick. He always liked to start slowly with care. Delicate licks, slow and calculated motions so he can gage your reaction. He flattened his tongue and applied pressure to your clit. He started lapping up your juices with a little more urgency now. You moaned his name breathily and he started picking up the pace. He's always loved eating you out. He held your thighs down with his big arms. He attached his lips to your puffy clit and began to suck while he slipped two fingers into your aching hole. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach begin to build and you couldn't help but buck your hips up onto his face and fingers. He took this time to add a third finger which made you delirious with pleasure.The third finger entered you stretching your fluttering hole, mixing pain and pleasure till they were indistinguishable from each other. He felt you clamping down on his fingers and he stopped sucking and began to vigorously rub circles into your clit, the way he knew you loved. You felt yourself getting close and as you're a whimpering mess you began to mutter "Kou don't stop, please"

He had a dark look in his eye when he spoke "cum for me baby, you can do it. And just like that you allowed yourself to come undone all over his magical hands and face. "Good girl" was what he said as you came. He helped you ride out your orgasm as he whispered sweet praises to you.

You were catching your breath as you came down from your high. By the time you were back, you looked at bokuto and he had already completely undressed and he had his back against the headboard. He was stroking himself as he watched you with half lidded eyes and a devilish grin on his face.

"You didn't think we were done, did you baby?"

"Of course not" You said as you put your nail between your teeth with a grin.

"Come here angel" he said as he gestured for you to join him.

You crawl over and you place yourself on top of him. You knew he loved when you rode him. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. You adored how full you felt with him inside you. You gave yourself some time to adjust to the stretch and then slowly started to move up and down. You began to pick up pace and ride him with more rigor. He watched you in awe with his hands on your hips guiding you up and down on him. He thought you were so beautiful riding him.You desperately chasing your high and using his body for pleasure was a sight he was incredibly fond of. He got off on knowing nobody would see you that way but him. He admired how beautiful you looked doing something so lewd. Tits bouncing around, your face contorted in pleasure, your lips parted as the moans escaped your mouth.

He then took you and flipped you over so you were on your back. It was his turn to take charge and set the pace. He kissed your temple as he slipped into you. Kou wasted no time in picking up his pace. His vicious thrusts leaving you a babbling mess. You felt yourself begin to close your eyes as you whimpered out his name and he grabbed your face and held your cheeks in his hand. He said "open your eyes baby, look at me".

You did as he said and looked into his eyes as he rutted against you. You were moaning his name when he put his hand over your mouth and said "shh shh baby listen"

You were initially confused at what he was talking about but then when you listened you heard the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching and gushing around his length as he fucked into you. Your cheeks redden as you got a little embarrassed. Boktuo looks down at you with a shiteating grin and says "listen to that angel, you're fucking dripping wet for me". You were a muttering mess, all you could say was "yes kou yes, just for you. Only you could fuck me like this". That's one thing about Bokuto, he adored being praised by you. You took advantage of this and you began to whisper into his ear. "You're so good to me baby, you're doing so good. Please don't stop kou please"

He maintained his pace and looked up to you. "You're close baby?". You nod quickly and dug your nails into his back, leaving crescent moons in their wake as you begged for more. He let out a groan and said "me too" as he fucked into you. He started to rub circles into your clit and he picked up his pace. He fucked you into the mattress and he felt your hole spasming around him, it felt like your pussy was sucking him in even more than he thought possible. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you begged him to let you cum. He felt you clench onto him and said "cum with me baby, be a good girl and cum with me angel". You immediately came undone leaving you shaking and panting under him. The view of you destroyed and fucked out was enough to push him over the edge. With the last few sloppy thrusts bokuto moaned your name as he came. Leaving you kisses along your neck as he painted your insides white.

You both were catching your breath as he peppered your face with kisses. He went to the bathroom to get a wet rag to clean you off with. He wiped you down with delicate and sweet touches. You both went under the covers and he held you in his arms. He began to play with your hair as you began to fall asleep.You kissed his hand and said "goodnight kou, i love you". Then he gave you one last kiss to your temple and a tight hug. He whispered into your ear saying "goodnight baby, thank you for the lovely evening. I love you so much."

The both of you falling asleep in eachothers warm embrace. Kou couldn't have asked for a better homecoming.

[taetaespeaches]

“Wait, what did you just ask me?”

taehyung x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.2K

a/n: Hi lovelies!!! Remember, we are not going to talk about how self-indulgent this is, ok? Ok. Tae and Peaches y’all... they’re my babies, what can I say? I hope you all enjoy, and thanks so much for reading! :)) 

As you studied the brushstrokes you had placed upon the canvas, Taehyung was lying on the floor in front of you, wearing a smile, his eyes on you. Sitting cross-legged a couple feet away from him, you looked overtop the painting, sneaking a glance at the man. Your lips curved up as you caught him staring, your gaze quickly returning to the work in progress.

“How is it looking?” He asked you, his voice low, coated in affection as he expressed his fond curiosity.

Cocking your head to the side, you scrunched your nose in disapproval. “You’re prettier in real life,” you smiled, Taehyung ducking his head as his grin widened. Licking his lips, appearing shy, he looked back to you. Sitting back, resting on your hands as your arms supported you, you watched Taehyung carefully. “I’m not sure I’ll ever properly capture your beauty, Dearest.”

“Let me see,” he told you gently, propping himself up on his elbow, resting his cheek on his palm. Giving him a skeptical look, he chuckled lowly. “What’s that look?”

Without answering him, you turned the easel around so he could see the painting. As he stared at your work, you watched him closely, noticing how the smile slowly morphed into a considerate inspection, his face relaxing as his gentle eyes scanned the strokes and colors. When his adoring gaze returned to you, you grinned, Taehyung simply staring at you for a moment, his orbs somehow intense and gentle all at once.

“It’s the most beautiful one yet,” he finally spoke, you sighing as he smiled knowingly.

“You say that every time,” you whined, “that’s why I was hesitant to show you.”

“What’s wrong with saying that? It’s the truth,” he defended through his amused smile.

“You’re just in love with me and everything I do,” you complained mockingly, Taehyung moving his arm out from under his head so he could drop his head to the floor in laughter.

“Of course I am,” he confirmed dramatically before rolling onto his back and turning his head toward you to catch you smiling fondly at him. “But you really do get better with every painting,” he continued. “Every new piece you do is my new favorite.”

Leaning forward, you placed your slightly paint covered hand on the floor of his art studio and slid it toward him, Taehyung quickly bringing his hand forward to clasp overtop yours. “Thank you,” you whispered shyly.

“Remember when you wouldn’t even attempt to paint because you didn’t think you could do it?” He asked you with a smile that matched yours as he intertwined your fingers. Nodding at him, he shook his head at the thought. “So silly. Now look at you,” he nodded to your freshly painted portrait of the man you loved. “You’re incredible.”

“Well, you inspire me,” you pointed out, the man shaking his head as if he was negating your comment, his fingers toying with yours. “No, you do,” you nodded, your tone seeping with sincerity. “In so many ways.”

The both of you stared at each other for a moment before the man sat up on his knees and crawled toward you, your smile growing bigger and bigger the closer he got. Appearing in front of your face, he easily swooped in and stole a kiss, your painted hands grabbing the sides of his face to hold him there as you deepened the action.

“I’m in love with you and everything you do too,” you suddenly mumbled against his mouth, making the man chuckle. “For the record.”

“I know,” he nodded, pressing his soft lips to yours once more, giving you a sweet peck. “Do you want to go for a drive, Peaches?” He asked, you letting out a single breathy laugh.

“Are you driving?” You asked teasingly, Taehyung giggling as he kissed your cheek a few times quickly before nodding, his fluffy hair brushing against your face. “Sure,” you added simply.

Taehyung drove you out of the city to one of his secret spots, the drive relatively quiet as you both simply enjoyed the presence of one another, you turning on old playlists as you relived the memories the songs evoked. There was little traffic at 11 pm on a Thursday night, only a few headlights shining into the car and illuminating your boyfriend’s face every now and then.

During the drive, you admired the way his fingers tapped against the steering wheel to the beat of the music as he lowly sang the songs. Resting your hand on his shoulder, you occasionally toyed with the strands of hair that hung against his neck, tickling his skin and making the man squirm and giggle boyishly.

When he pulled off the road and parked the car, he turned to face you, meeting your smirk. “Wanna get out?” He asked, you nodding as you undid your seatbelt. The man was always prepared for a spontaneous outing, spreading the blanket that he kept in his backseat out across the hood of the car. Within a few moments, you were cuddled up against each other on the hood as you stared up at the sky, appreciating the night time air.

“Do you have your phone?” He asked suddenly, you looking up from his chest to see his features, his eyes on you. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the device, handing it over to him. A few seconds passed by before music started filling the atmosphere, your recognition of the song making you sit up to shoot your boyfriend a look of surprise.

“Is this the playlist?” You asked him, the man smiling fondly. The song was Make Out in My Car, giving away that he had turned on the first playlist he had ever made you since you started seeing each other romantically. The playlist he made you to confess his love for you in the diner you were well acquainted with. “You’re so soft tonight,” you giggled, Taehyung wrapping his arm around you to pull you back down against his frame.

Burying your face in his neck, you kissed his skin softly, the man swallowing as if he was nervous, his adam’s apple bobbing against your lips. However, your own growing nerves made it difficult for you to pay as much attention to his apparent edginess as you normally would.

Because for a few weeks, you had been thinking a lot about your relationship with Taehyung, and your future with the man. There was no doubt between the both of you, and really anyone who came into contact with you both, that you two were devoted to each other. Spending your lives together had been the hope and intention for as long as you’d known the man. Though the terms of the relationship had changed throughout the years, your commitment to each other as friends, and eventually as lovers, was always there.  

And although you never gave marriage much consideration, never really concerning yourself with the tradition and idea behind it, Tae had always wanted marriage for as long as you’d known him. And you wanted to commit yourself to your love for him, the love that existed between the two of you, in the sincerest way you could think of. You didn’t start the night with the intention of asking him the question, but it felt right in the moment. It was time.

Mustering up your courage as Bruno Major’s Easily played into the atmosphere, you kissed his neck one more time before letting out a slow exhale. “Hey, Tae?” You called for his attention quietly, the man tucking his chin into his neck to look down at you. Humming in response to you, you pulled away from him just slightly so you could look at him properly. “I want to preface this by assuring you that I’m not asking you this just for you, but because I’ve been thinking a lot and, I realized I want this too. With you,” you slightly rambled, the man chuckling nervously as he stared at you in confusion.

“What are you on about, Peaches?” He asked, his eyes searching your face, bouncing from feature to feature, as if he studied you enough, he would figure it out for himself.

“Ok, I can see your nervous, and you shouldn’t be,” you smiled, a small chuckle slipping from your lips.

“But you look nervous,” he giggled, his hand finding your waist as he gave you a comforting squeeze. “That makes me nervous.”

“I don’t know how to do this, I’ve been thinking about it for like a month now and I just realized I have no idea what to say,” you mostly spoke to yourself as Taehyung watching you curiously, appearing intrigued and enamored by your vocal thought process.

“Just say it then,” he told you, trying to calm you.

“Just say it?” You repeated, the man nodding. “I feel like it needs some flare though, like-”

“Peaches,” he said slightly sternly as his anxiousness grew, though he wore a small smile. “Just say it, baby.”

“Will you marry me?” You blurted out, his face completely unaffected as you stared at him with wide frightened eyes. “I mean-”

“Wait, what did you just ask me?” He suddenly realized, his eyes popping wide open as he sat up a bit.

“Uh,” you held back a laugh as you watched his features display the way his mind slowly comprehended the words that just entered his ears. “Will you marry me?” You asked again, this time more collected. “I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone, and I still don’t totally understand marriage and like what the point of it is but I know I want to be married to you,” you explained to him, your gaze set on his as he stared at you, nearly unblinking.

“You do?” He questioned, shocked by your sudden confession though his boxy smile finally beamed at you as a shy giggle slipped from his lips.

“I do,” you assured him fondly. “Because it’s you. It just feels right.”

Without another word, your boyfriend was sliding off the hood of the car, leaving you behind as he swung the driver side car door open.

“Tae?” You called out to him, your mind full of confusion, but also amusement. “Tae! What the hell are you doing?” You watched through the windshield as he lunged across the console and flung the glove box open. “You know, if you want to say no, you can just say no,” you joked. “You don’t have to make a break for it while I’m still on the hood of the car,” you giggled teasingly, though your nerves were definitely rising by the second, not because you actually thought he’d say no but rather simply the element of the unknown.  

Tossing the manual onto the seat, he grabbed something and within another moment, he was back outside, holding his hands out in front of him towards you. Your gaze bounced around his face for a moment before your orbs traveled to the item he held between his fingers.

“What the fuck is that?” You asked in shock, your eyes set on the open ring box displaying the most stunning ring you’d ever seen. “Holy shit, Tae.”

“I’ve had this for a few months,” he admitted, your eyes immediately flickering to his face in surprise. “I didn’t want you to marry me just because I want it,” he explained with a small smile. “I wanted you to want it too and so, I just never asked,” he shrugged as you covered your mouth with your hands. “I know we’re spending our lives together with or without this ring or a document.”

“Kim Taehyung,” you muttered into your hands with a small laugh.

“I never expected you to propose to me though,” he chuckled fondly.

“Well I did,” you pointed out, the man nodding as he dropped his head to the side in laughter.

“You did,” he agreed just as you began sliding across the hood toward him. When you reached him, you swung your legs off the edge, opening them so Taehyung could slot himself between them. Leaned toward you, he pushed his forehead against yours as he sighed in content, his breath fanning across your lips.

“You never answered my proposal,” you teased him, Taehyung scoffing in your face as his free hand settled on your cheek. Pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, you scrunched it in response.

“Was the ring not a good enough answer?” He questioned jokingly, you humming in thought.

“Maybe you want your own ring,” you pondered with a smirk, Taehyung’s boxy grin growing as he shook his fringe in your face slightly to tickle you.

“Yes, I will marry you,” he assured you, making you giggle just as he kissed your lips softly. “That is, if you’ll marry me,” he added, mumbling against your mouth.

“I will marry you,” you told him easily, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss, the playlist still humming in the background.

As you both got caught up in each other, as you always did, the ring box ended up closed and discarded on the hood of the car, the token of his love and your commitment not making it to your finger until a bit later that night. After all, you weren’t in it for a ring, or a label, or a document. It was him. It always had been Taehyung. And it would be him forever.

[baijingting]

COMPREHENSIVE GIFFING TUTORIAL (vapoursynth + ps cc 2018) + some tips and tricks on color correction, blending and subtitles

You guys asked for it, so here we are! This is by no means the gold standard to giffing. Rather, this is simply my process and my own preferences. Take it as you will. Additionally since I use a mac some of my controls/panels may look different than what you would see for windows users.

DOWNLOADING YOUR SOURCE

This step is extremely important to the quality of your gifset. If you want high-quality gifs I would recommend giffing sources in 1080p whenever possible (especially if you’re going for larger dimensions). You may get away with 720p for smaller gifs. For kdramas, your go-to source would be dr*maday or torrents. (you can search my faq tag if you’d like to know specifics on finding and downloading torrents).

IMPORTING + PROCESSING YOUR FILES WITH VAPOURSYNTH (VS)

Please note that this tutorial does not cover basic installation and set-up of vs. If you would like to know how to download and set-up vapoursynth (it works for both mac and pc) along with some of it’s basics you can find more information at: https://hackmd.io/@nibreon/vapoursynth-book/%2F%40nibreon%2Fvapoursynth-book

Once you’ve identified what portion of your video you’d like to gif, simply drag your video file into VS. Specify the start time and duration of the clip you’d like to import. Typically you’ll be aiming for ~3-8 second clip depending on how big your gifs will be. I am very lazy when it comes to importing. The less of it I have to do, the better. Therefore, I often import clips that are 10-15 seconds long, sometimes even up to 20 seconds. I wouldn’t recommend going over 15 seconds most of the time though, because this will usually bring you over the 500 frames photoshop allows you to import at once. (when I do go over, I will sometimes import the processed VS file into PS in segments). You can also choose to import the VS output as segments if you want all your gifs on separate canvases. (I'll go into more detail on this later)

Once you’ve imported the clip into VS your screen should roughly look like this once the resizer pops up:

In the top left is where you will be applying your cropping, sharpening and denoising filters. Cropping: Keep in mind the Tumblr dimensions: 540px for full-width gifs and 268px for half size gifs, 177/178/177px for 3 gifs across. The height is completely up to your own preference. Usually I work in 540x300px. Once you edit those parameters you can drag/resize your video file to fit your new canvas. Sharpening + Denoising: You can choose to skip this if you would rather sharpen in ps. I personally do all my cropping, denoising and sharpening in vs. I use finesharp and KNML for sharpening and denoising respectively. Once you select those two filters from their drop down menus, be sure the select the checkbox as well. You should now notice 2 additional lines of code in the top right box. The line that reads: video = core.knlm.KNLMeansCL(video, 0, 6, 4, 1.2, channels="YUV") is where you will adjust your denoising parameters. You will only be adjusting those 4 numbers. I usually use: 0, 1, 0, 1.2. Now find the line that reads: video = hnw.FineSharp(video, sstr=0.22). These are your sharpening parameters. once again we’re only adjusting the number at the end. I typically use somewhere between 0.33-0.55. Depending on the quality of your source and preferences these parameters may change. 

Here is a breakdown of the KNML parameters (source: @/nibreon HackMD):

Once you have finalized your parameters, copy all the code in that top right box and paste it into your vapoursynth editor. Note: you can ‘inactivate’ certain lines of code by adding the # symbol at the start the line. That line of code will then be greyed-out. This is what your code should now look like (the highlighted section is the part I just copy and pasted):

If you would like to preview your filters and see if you need to make any adjustments, simply navigate to the top bar and select script > preview. If you like what you see, great! If not, you can adjust the parameters directly in the editor until you see a result you’re happy with. Once you’re happy you can move onto the final step in vs: processing. 

Processing: Once again, navigate to the top bar and select script > encode video. Another window should pop up. Make sure you set ‘header’ to ‘Y4M’ then click ‘start’. Patiently wait for that to finish processing. The longer your clip is and the more filters you add, the longer it will take. 

IMPORTING YOUR CLIP INTO PHOTOSHOP (PS)

Now you’re done with the vapoursynth section! Not too hard, right? I use the timeline method when I gif. To import your video file into ps navigate to file > import > video frames to layers. Here you can use the sliders to further specify what range you would like to import. Make sure the ‘make frame animation’ box is checked. To optimize smoothness of your gif, avoid checking the ‘limit to every _ frames’ box. Hit ‘OK’ and wait for the frames to import. Depending on the size of your clip, ps may notify you that you are importing a large file and it may take a long time to process, simply say ‘ok’ to this. UNLESS you get a message saying it will limit to 500 frames. This means your clips contained more than 500 frames and you should select a smaller section to avoid cutting out any critical parts. (Note: you can always go back and repeat this process to select a smaller range of frames from the same video clip until you’ve imported all the frames you need).

Timing: You can adjust the timing of your gifs before converting to timeline. Select all the frames (Navigate to the icon with the 4 bars at the bottom right of you screen. Select “select all frames”). Click the drop down next to the timing of any of the frames. Select ‘other’ and input a your preferred timing. I personally use ‘0.04′ but I've seen people use anywhere from 0.4-0.8ms. Also as a note: when you convert your gif to timeline it has a tendency to mess up your timing so even if you input 0.04 or 0.05 it won’t actually be that timing later. If you want the true frame rate you can set your timing right before saving. You can also adjust timing at the end. (see export/saving gif section for more info)

Now the next part can be tedious and for that reason I’ve created numerous actions to speed up this process. But for the sake of this tutorial I will walk you through the steps. At the bottom of your screen is your timeline. As you can see, it defaults to frames, but we want to convert this into a smart object so that all your coloring/edits are made to all of the layers. To do this: 1) Navigate to the icon with the 4 bars at the bottom right of you screen. Select “select all frames” 2) Now select all your layers in your layer panel. On mac you can use cmd + option + A as a shortcut. 3) Back to the icon with the 4 bars, select “convert to video timeline” 4) Right click on all layers (which should still all be selected) and find “convert to smart object”

(Aside: Actions) actions are SUPER helpful to streamlining your giffing process. you can find actions people have made available on resource blogs like itsphotoshop OR you can choose to make your own custom actions. To do this, all you need to do is locate your action panel. Then from the controls at the bottom of the panel select the one that looks like a sheet of paper to “create a new action” Once you’ve named it and hit ‘ok’ the record icon should now be red. PS will now basically ‘record’ whatever you do. To stop recording hit the square icon. Now whenever you want ps to execute the same set of steps you just did, you can locate the action you just made and ‘play’ it by selecting the triangle icon. I highly recommend making an action for the steps I just outlined above to convert your gif into a smart object timeline. It will make your process much faster and more painless. 

COLORING

Now the fun part! I focus on emphasizing the colors already present in the video source or getting rid of some less-than desirable overtones when I color. It gives the gif a natural look, but makes everything pop a little more. We will be working with selective color, curves, levels, and brightness/contrast mostly. This is the original gif I will be using to demonstrate coloring:

Curves: I always start with curves. The first curve layer I use to set a desirable black point. To do this, locate the top dropper icon from the curves panel and select the darkest point of your image. This will set that section to “true black” Feel free to play around with this until you find a desirable outcome. Now add another curves layer. This one we will be using to adjust the brightness/contrast. First, I always start off with ‘auto’ and see where that takes me. If you like the outcome, great! If you don’t play around with the different curve points until you get an outcome you like. 

Selective Color: This adjustment layer will be your best friend. For me, I will typically work with reds, yellows, and black. If the source has a lot of blue/cyan I will use those too. Basically look at your source and determine which base colors you’d like to emphasize/alter. For blacks I usually up the black by +1-5 depending on the source. For reds, it also depends on the source. But I will typically either decrease cyan (to make red stand out more) or increase cyan (to make the red not look so overexposed). You want to be careful here. Overexposing the red can make your skin tones look like red tomatoes! And for my content base, where most of the actors are of asian descent, we should be emphasizing the yellows and NOT the reds (see aside on color correction + skin tones for more info). After altering the reds to my liking, I do the same process for the yellows. To bring back natural skin tones and color, you will likely want to darken the yellows, expose them a bit more and maybe even  up the yellow slider. A common rule of thumb: if you want to make any of the colors less exposed, increase the cyan. If you want to increase exposure on any of the colors, decrease the cyan. If you want a color to appear more strongly or prominently, increase the black. The magentas and yellows I use more to adjust hues. You can add multiple selective color layers to further emphasize your changes. 

Levels: Now we will work on the lighting some more. This creates more contrast and depth to your gif, often making them look ‘crisper’ To emphasize the bright parts, move the right-hand slider to the left. The emphasize the dark parts, move the left-hand slider to the right. You may also choose to move the middle slider to adjust more neutral lighting. Do so until you find a setting to your liking. 

Miscellaneous: Depending on your gif you may need to play with other adjustment layers. Some other ones I often use are the brightness/contrast and exposure to adjust lighting and add more dimension to the gif. For additional color correction I use color balance and to a lesser extent hue/saturation and vibrance. 

(Aside: Color correction + skin tones): We are anti-whitewashing and anti-redwashing when it comes to asian media. Like I mentioned earlier, natural asian skin tones have yellow undertones, not red/pink. Therefore when you’re bringing in color you should be mindful of this delicate balance. Adding more red does NOT equal un-whiteashing. Be VERY careful how you balance the yellows with selective color/hues/color balance.

^^ Here is an example of what I mean by overexposing the reds. Poor seungho is looking as sunburnt as a cherry tomato. Note: if your original source is already overexposed with red, fix it! You can do this by applying the same basic principles I explained earlier. Try upping the cyan on the reds in selective color, or shifting the color balance to favor cyan over red with the color balance adjustment layer. You may also choose to favor the yellow over blue.

^^ Now this is straight-up whitewashing. This is what happens when you are not careful with your correction of yellow. I’m not saying you can’t touch the yellow slider or get rid of some yellow form the overall image (because sometimes it is very much needed), but you should be very mindful how your corrections can affect skin tones. If you decide to decrease saturation of yellows, or decrease yellow in the selective color section of the reds, do so with caution. If your reds are looking too pink, add some yellow in the red selective color, up the yellow and black of the yellow selective color.

^^ If you hit that happy medium, you can emphasize the natural skin tones without overexposure. Here the underlying tones are very much still in the yellow range. 

(Aside: Blending): I will very briefly talk about how to blend two gifs together. First make sure you’ve imported both your gifs into ps and converted them into the timeline format. On one of the gifs, right click the gif layer in the layer panel > duplicate layer > select the canvas of the gif you’d like to blend the gif with. On the canvas you just copied your second gif to, you can now drag the two layers around the on the canvas to get your desired positioning. On the top gif apply a layer mask. This can be found in your layers panel at the bottom, and is indicated by the white rectangle with the circle. Next, make sure you select the mask in the layer panel (it will show up as a white rectangle on the layer you applied the mask). Grab your paintbrush tool and make sure your color is set to black. Now you can effectively ‘erase’ the part of the top gif you don’t want to show anymore. I recommend setting your brush hardness to 0% to get a smoother transition. You can also play with the opacity settings. If you want to add back in a part you erased, just switch to a white paintbrush and you will be able to undo what you had just ‘erased’ with the black. When you merge the gifs, they will play the same number of frames. This means your blended gif length is limited by the gif with the fewer number of frames. You can move around your timeline layer and shorten the included portion by dragging either end of the timeline layer in until you get both gifs to play the parts you want.

CAPTIONS/SUBTITLES

I often get asked about my subtitle font/styling settings. Personally I find the best fonts for subtitles are calibri and arial. I use calibri with the following settings: 12-14px, bold italic plus faux bold, 1px black stroke (optional: drop shadow set to ‘multiply’ at around 85% opacity), and tracking (VA) set to 75. If you would like your subtitles to fade-in or fade-out you can apply the ‘fade effect’. Locate the b/w square icon in your timeline panel. Select fade and drag it onto your text layer in your timeline. You can then right click on the wedge shape to adjust your fade duration. I usually use 0.35s. If you drag and drop the effect towards the beginning of your text you can get the fade-in effect. To get the fade-out, simply drag and drop your fade towards the end of your text layer.

SAVING/EXPORTING YOUR GIF

We’ve reached the final stretch! If you need to adjust your frame rate timing: you will need to revert your timeline to frames. To do this: 1) Navigate to the icon of 4 bars at the right of your timeline panel. Select convert frames > flatten frames into clips. 2) Navigate to the icon of 4 bars at the right of your timeline panel. Select convert frames > convert to frame animation > when promoted hit ’ok’. If at this point you see more than one frame in your timeline panel, delete the frames until only one is left. In the example below I would delete the first frame by hitting the trash icon from the timeline panel.

If there is only one frame, leave it as is. 3) Navigate to the icon of 4 bars at the right of your timeline panel. Select ‘make frames from layers’ You will most likely need to delete the first frame in your timeline panel (it won’t have your coloring). Sometimes ps adds in some ‘blank’ frames as well, delete those too. Now you can adjust your timing. 

Once your timing is set: When you’re saving your gif, just keep in mind it must be under 10mb. Navigate to file > export > save for web. When it comes to your save settings I typically use either selective diffusion or adaptive diffusion. I also also occasionally use adaptive pattern (I find this is best for dark scenes without a lot of contrast). Set colors to 256, quality to bicubic and looping options to forever. If you want to preview your gif, hit the preview button in the bottom left. Otherwise, go ahead a hit ‘save’ and you’re DONE!

ADDITIONAL RESOURCES

Feel free to check out my ‘ps things’ tag for more photoshop stuff/mini tutorials. Additionally @/nibreon and the hackmd site I linked previously are your best resources for vs questions. If you would like to see my giffing process in motion feel free to check out this video. It’s sped up but you can slow down the playback. Additionally be sure to check out resource blogs like itsphotoshop for more helpful tutorials and resources.

If you reached the end of this beast, kudos to you! I hope this helps and never be afraid to reach out with any questions.

[avengerscompound]

Canvas

Canvas: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1844

Warnings:  smut (vaginal sex, messy sex,)

Synopsis:  Steve has been painting you for a while.  In a lot of ways you’ve been his must.  This time, he has decided to use a whole different canvas to practice his art on.

Canvas

The brush was soft and tickled your skin.  Paired with the cool, wet paint, it set off a ripple of goosebumps in its wake.

Steve was an artist.  You hadn’t known that when you’d first started seeing each other.  The serious and stoic Steve Rogers who had devoted his life to protect the world as Captain America didn’t seem to be the soft artistic type.

He had surprised you though.  First with the fact he wasn’t as serious as he made himself seem when he was in uniform.  He was funny and snarky, and he cared deeply about people.

And he liked to paint.

You’d first discovered his artistic side when you’d woken up to find him sitting on the end of the bed sketching a picture of you sleeping.  There was a way about Steve - an open vulnerability - that meant he could get away with doing things like watching you sleep that didn’t feel creepy.  There was something romantic about the way that he wanted to capture the moment.  Not with a camera to show how it was, but with a pencil to show how it made him feel.

Since that day he’d gotten more and more into his art when he was around you.  Your place and his became littered with sketches and drawings, mostly of you, but sometimes just of things that made him feel real.  Not the symbol of America, but a real man who wanted a quiet life with someone he loved.

When the painting started, you would sit for him.  You were his muse and when you would sit for him, you’d find yourself holding all kinds of unlikely positions, in a variety of different states of undress.

It was a strange feeling being his life model.  Sexy.  Uncomfortable.  Flattering.  Safe.  The best part was seeing the finished product.  It was like getting to see yourself through the eyes of the person who loved you most and there was nothing more intimate than that.

Today Steve was interested in a different canvas.

You stood naked in his home office, a drop cloth below you to capture any stray drops of paint.  Steve had his shirt off too, and there were already a few smears of paint on his perfectly sculpted chest.  There was something sexy about the look.  Like the mess made him seem raw and unbridled in a way Steve rarely was outside of sex and battle.

The brush moved down and around the curve of our breast in a long sweeping motion.  You shivered as the cool of the paint sent a tingle up your spine.  Your nipples hardened and you weren’t sure if that was only because of the cold.  Steve’s eyes drifted from the line of his paint to your breasts and his cheeks turned slightly pink.  “Is it very cold?”  He asked.

“It’s cold, but I’m not sure that’s the whole problem,” you coyly answered.

The blush deepened in Steve’s cheeks and his tongue glided over his plump bottom lip.  “Mm… for me too,” he said and leaned down, pressing his mouth to your breast.  Your nipple fit perfectly between his soft lips, and as his tongue swirled over it, you let out a sharp breath.

“Steve…” you sighed, your hand going to his shoulder to steady yourself.  He sucked on your tender flesh, his tongue curling around your hardened nipple, and as he pulled back, his teeth grazed over it, making a buzz spiral out under your skin.

He returned his attention to his art, leaving you trembling slightly from the brief interlude.  You blinked and shook your head as you tried to focus on the art, rather than the heat building between your legs.

You watched as he added some black to the blue he was painting on your skin, darkening the shade as he filled in the color under your stomach.  “What are you painting?”  You asked.

“You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he said.

“It’s not a flag, is it?”  You asked.  “I don’t want you to paint me to look like a flag.”

Steve laughed softly and shook his head.  “No.  It’s not a flag.”

He dipped his thumb into the purple on his pallet and ran it down between the two shades of blue on your stomach.  It tickled and you squirmed away from him a little.

“I need you to try and stay still, sweetheart,” Steve said.

“You try it when someone’s doing this to you,” you teased, and poked him in the abs.  He jumped away with a laugh.

“That’s cheating,” he said, grabbing your wrist.

You giggled and he kissed your hand before letting your wrist go again.  His fingerprints remained on your skin.  Blue spots to mark where he’d held you.  You studied them as he returned to painting.  Admiring the way they marked how easily his large hands wrapped around your wrists.

You took one of Steve’s spare brushes and dipped it into the red paint.

“What are you doing?”  Steve asked, raising his eyebrow though he didn’t look away from his work.

“Thought I’d do a little bit of body painting too,” you said and pressed your red palm against his chest.  When your hand left his body, the perfect impression of your hand was left in scarlet against his pale milk skin.

Steve’s lips quirked at the side and he shook his head.  “Very pretty,” he said.  “Shall I give you one?”

“Won’t it mess up your design?”  You asked.

“I can paint over it,” he said as he began painting his palm with purple paint.  “Where should I put this?”  He teased, waving it in front of you.

You squealed but your body seemed to curve toward him like it was aching for his touch.  He hovered his hand over your breast.  “Here?”  he whispered and watched as you shivered slightly, pushing your chest out toward him.  He licked his lips and moved his hand up to your neck.  “Maybe here?”

You swallowed thickly.  “Please?”

He moved his hand down around your waist and smacked it down on your ass.  It was firm and made a sharp crack as his skin met yours, but it wasn’t painful.  You gasped and he dragged your forward, his fingers digging into your ass.  “Here?”  He said, bringing his lips to yours.

You kissed him hungrily, his other arm curling around your waist.  You moaned into his lips and pressed your body against him.  You could picture the mark on your ass.  His large palm staining your skin purple.  His hands slid around your waist, smearing the paint as he moved them, leaving a wet trail up to your ribs.  His fingers tightened and he pushed you back against the wall.  You submitted to him, melting under his touch.  His hands gripped your chest just under your breasts and he dragged them up, breaking the kiss so he could lean down and suck your breasts.  You let your head fall back against the wall and wrapped a leg around him, pulling your bare cunt against his clothed crotch.  His cock was hard and strained against the thick fabric of his khakis.  You cunt smeared your fluids on his jeans as the friction drew them from you, sending a hot tingle spiraling out through you.

He sucked and bit at your breasts like a hungry man.  Dutifully moving from one to the other and back again, sending a dull ache down to your core.

“Steve,” you moaned.  “I need you.”

He groaned and spun you guiding you back to the tarp and knocking his paints to the floor so they splattered over the drop cloth.  He lay you down, ignoring the paint as it pooled around your body.  You put your hands in the wet mess and watched as he hurriedly unfastened his pants.  As he positioned himself above you, you spread your legs wide and wrapped your arms around him, welcoming him in and marking him as your own.

He was kissing you again, hard and passionately.  You matched him, bringing your tongue to meet his and swirling it around.  He lined himself up and with a hard thrust, he was inside you.  You gasped arching up into him as an eclectic pulse passed through your body.  He didn’t wait for you to adjust, he just began thrusting into you again and again.  The head of his cock hitting your cervix and sending sharp jolts through you again and again.

You cried out and bunched your hands in his hair.  The paint on your hands clung to the strands, sticking them together and making them stick up in clumps.  You could feel your climax building, and you nudged him.  He took the hint flipping you over.

The paint you’d been lying in dripped down your back onto his thighs.  He smeared his hands through it and then used it to finger paint on your body as you rode him.  You started slowly, swirling your hips like you were doing a seated dance, his cock moving inside you and pressing against your walls.  You began to move faster, bouncing on his cock.  Steve groaned as he watched you, his hands caressing his body.  Faster and faster you moved, up and down, up and down.  Sweat mixed with the paint as you chased your orgasm.  Steve began to snap his hips up into you, your bodies slapping together each time you connected.

He pushed you back, first so you were seated face to face, you sitting in his lap, and then pushing you back on the floor again.  He pushed your legs up so they were pressed against your chest.  His cock penetrated you so deeply you thought it was going to split you in two.  You cried out and your orgasm hit, shuddering through you and making all your muscles seize up.  Steve kept thrusting, fucking you through it, and as he reached his own climax, he pulled out pumping his cock in his fist and releasing, spattering your stomach and chest with thick white ropes that stood out against the rainbow of paint.

You lay back panting as you came down from your orgasm high and Steve lay down beside you.  “God, you’re beautiful,” he sighed.

“We ruined your art,” you said, looking down at yourself.

“I think we made it better,” he said.  “I know I’m going to remember you like this for a long time.  My gorgeous artwork.”

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you deeply and tenderly.  You closed your eyes and hummed, relaxing into it.  When he pulled back he smiled at you.  “We really should go shower.”

You giggled and Steve helped you to stand.  He looked down at the drop sheet below him and smiled.  “I think I might frame that,” he said.

You looked down at the colors.  They swirled together, but you could see everywhere the two of you had touched.  You liked the idea of hanging it in the apartment.  A permanent reminder of what you and Steve had.

[winter-fox-queen]

The Gentry’s Gifts: Max Phillips

Hello!  This is sort of a sequel to the Pero story, in that we saw Max and now we know what he was doing there and what choice he needed to make.

Warnings:  Cursing. Angst. I had the trick of having to put both blank canvas characters into one story, lol.  But I think I finessed it.  The “you” character is a blank slate, mostly gender neutral (mentions of wanting to have children could sway your perception one way or the other.). Not betad.  

This is my late #writerwednesday entry, thank you to @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​

Prologue:

Max Phillips slammed the hospital doors open, eager to get outside.  The sound beeping machines seemed to echo in his ears, making them hurt.  The smell of the place stuck to the back of his throat.

He tilted his head back in the afternoon sun, and breathed in, breathed out.  Tried to make himself calm down.  The Autumn are cleared his head as he jogged across the road.  

“Bad day?”  A voice asked.

Between two benches, almost hidden in the orange leaves, was a woman, instead of the ‘Nam veteran he usually passed a few moments talking to.  Her wiry steel colored hair was in a messy bun, covered by a turban.  She wore layers and layers even though it was a warm fall day.  “Where’s Raffi?”  Max asked.

“His daughter found him.  He decided to try living with her again.”

Max nodded.  “I hope it works out.  She wasn’t…apparently he isn’t easy to live with.  Bad dreams.”

“It’ll be better now.”  She said with such serene certainty that Max believed her.  He gave a little wave and walked away.  

He was back, twenty minutes later.  He put a chocolate shake in front of her, and a boxed fried chicken meal.  If he had known his folklore…which, sadly, he would become intimately familiar with, he would have understood her amusement.  Milk, bread…these were the Old offerings.  

Instead he shrugged, uncomfortable.  “What?  I figure everyone likes chocolate.  And I needed to eat, too.”  He sat next to her.

“How old are you?” She asked, though she knew.

He shrugged.  “Seventeen.”  He buttered a biscuit and took a huge bite.  He ate like he was starving.  “Why?”

“You seem to be awfully young to be hanging out with homeless people.  Where are your parents?”  

He shrugged again.  “My mom’s gone.  My father…”. He pointed towards the hospital doors with his chin.  “He’s dying.”  He hunched over the greasy box of chicken, potato strips and biscuits, eating like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

She sighed.

He looked at her, and she shook her head, and ate the food he brought her.  You are going to go off the rails Max Phillips.  You are going to go off the rails so badly and there’s nothing I can do about it.

The Present:

He entered the library through the basement, crept up the stairway.  The first floor was nearly empty…the university library kept late hours so that students could cram late into the night, but it was Thirsty Thursday and most of the students were elsewhere.  

He waited until you were focused on the book cart again, back towards the main floor, and got himself around the corner.  Then he pulled out his cell and dialed the front desk.

You now turned to go to the phone, at least he hoped so, as he disconnected the call and opened the side door to the area behind the circulation desk…

You were there, leaning against the cart, arms folded.  “Nice try, but I know your tricks, Mister Phillips.”

He grinned and advanced on her, step by step.

“No no…”. You point a finger at him.  “Stay back, this is a work place…”. You shoot a look towards the front desk as he backs you into your office.   “You are going to lose me my job.”  You hiss at him, and he bends a little, and kisses you breathless.

“Quit.  I’ll take care of you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders.  He’s cool to the touch.  It’s not disconcerting, not like it used to be.  “I wish I could.”

“Stop wishing...”

“If you say ‘and make your dreams a reality’, I’ll bite you.”  

Max looks offended.  “It’s a great slogan!  Do you know how many units of Losapill those golden words have sold?”

“I don’t understand how I can love someone so much and want to punch them so badly.”

He grins down at you.  “I can name several reasons why you love me.”

You smirk up at him.  “I’m sure you can…let me go, honey.  I’ve got to tell everyone we’re closing in half an hour.”  He listened to your voice on the loudspeaker, buttery and gentle and reassuring, and smiled a little. He could listen to that voice forever.  He could sell holy water to a priest, but so far all his skills had failed to net him the one thing he wanted.

He walks with you, as you check the restrooms (He even does the men’s for you on each floor, turning off the lights and blocking the doors open) and stands behind you, hands in his pockets, looking gloomy as you gently tell students to take their books to the front desk if they needed to check them out, that the library was closing shortly.

He waits, patiently, while you close up and lock the doors and usher the last people out.  

“I really wish you’d let me turn you,” he says when you are both in your car and on the way home.  Max often took the rooftops from his office to the university.  He was fast, and strong, and being fairly indestructible made him long for the thrill of possibly getting hurt, so he parkoured his way through the city once it got dark.  It was disgusting, how he looked so good after running and leaping five miles.

He shifts in his seat as you let the silence grow.  “Are you ignoring me?”

“Yes.”  You stop at a red light.  

“Why?  You said you’d think about it.  You’ve been thinking about it for a month.  Any idea where you are on it?  Like, from the scale of one to ten…”

You’ve been wanting to avoid this.  You’ve really been wanting to avoid this.  “Zero.”

She waits.  She waits for the torrent of salesmanship.  The spiel.  Why becoming a vampire and living forever is what she wants, she just doesn’t know it’s yet.  

For once, words fail him.  No quick comeback, no charming lines. “I can’t believe you don’t want to be with me.”  He says it so softly that you almost aren’t sure you heard it.  

You pull into the apartment parking lot, picks a spot quickly you can park and take his hands in yours.  “Max.  I do.  I really do.  But just…I don’t want to be a vampire.  I don’t want to give up the things I would have to give up?”

“Like what?  Death?  Getting old?  Getting sick?  Being weak?”  He pulls his hands away.  “I am offering you unlimited time.  Think of the things we can do together!  And you don’t have to kill…I haven't killed anyone in ages!”

“Sunlight.”  You say.  “Food.”  He makes a disgusted sound and looks out the window.  “A family.”  You take a deep breath.  “Children.”

He finally looks at you again.  “Then I won’t waste any more of your time.”  He raises his hand, and time goes wonky for a moment, and when things snap back into place, he’s gone.

You stay in your car a long time, hoping he’ll come back. Every step up to your apartment, you look around, hoping.  

It’s dawn, before you give up, dried out from crying, your mouth feels full of ashes and your heart full of regret.

The next day:

Max was not in a good mood the next day.  Usually he has a nice word for, if no one else, his PA, a miracle worker of a woman he’d always been fond of, but he just glared at her and slams his door shut.

Emails.  Reports.  He plowed into work.  

The door opened, and he ignored it, steadfast in the hope that whoever it was would go the fuck away.   I could always eat them.  I don’t have to be good anymore.

A cup thumped down on his desk.  He looked up.  He didn’t recognize the woman — her steel grey hair was neat, her suit elegant.  Her heart beat strangely, and he could tell she was not — quite—human.  Great.  Someone new from corporate?

“I thought you said that everyone loves chocolate?”  She said, pointing at the milkshake.  “You’ve come far, since we last spoke outside the hospital…”

He shook his head.  “I remember you, but…”. How did she come to be here? Why? His brain was still trying to match up the homeless lady with the epitome of corporate flash in front of him.  

“Now, I didn’t say you moved in a good direction.  How did the sweet boy who spent his last twenty on dinner for himself and a homeless woman end up being a bloodsucking asshole selling fake products?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s schedule an appointment, maybe for the next century?”

“Nope.”  She reached across the desk.  “You gonna drink this?”

He shook his head and she took the milkshake, leaned back in her chair, moving the straw back and forth in the lid, making an annoying shriek sound that hurt his ears.  

“Do you think I wanted this?”  He snapped at her.  Vampires didn’t really need much in the way of sleep, but he was tired.  Tired and hurt.  “And who gives you the right to fucking judge me?”

“I’m one of the gentry,” she said.  “That doesn’t give me the right, but it gives me the power.”

“You’re fae.  That explains it.  You don’t seem human.”  

“I thought they taught you the rules.  You never call us out so clearly.  Always call us by some euphemism and hope we don’t take a notion to turn our attention towards you.”

He threw up his hands.  “Why?  Why does it matter?”

“Because if I wanted to, Max Phillips, I could turn you back into the weak, dying, foolish mortal you once were.”

This stopped him.  “You could?”  He said carefully.  

“I could.”

“What’s the catch?”

She smiled.  “Good boy.  Maybe they did teach you something, after all.”  She put the milkshake on the desk.  ”You were…what?  Twenty, twenty one when you got turned?  I could, if I wanted to, make it as if you never got turned.  I could choose for you to age to the age you should be, had you not cheated death…or I could make you start from where you are right now.  If I was feeling so inclined.”

“Why would I want that?”  He scoffed.  “Do you think I want to get old and sick?  Do you think I want to spend the last year of my life in a hospital bed, unable to even piss for myself?  You think this is a fucking gift?  Enticing?  No.”

“So you don’t want a life with the librarian? Probably for the best. She is made out of sunlight and deserves so much better.”

He stopped.  He could feel the slipping…where the darker side of him started clambering up, eager to take control and rend and kill.  

“Hush.”  She said, and the blood stopped rushing in his ears, the fangs stopped aching.  “I shouldn’t needle.  It’s just so frustrating.  You were a sweet boy and you just allowed the bad in your life to make you…well, frankly, a bit of a jackass.”  She shoot him an apologetic look.  “OK, that was a cruddy apology.  But.  Back to the subject at hand.  Once, you were kind to me.  And if you do me a favor — one more favor — I will give you a choice.  A chance to choose a life for yourself instead of being a victim of bad choices and worse luck.  No strings.  No further price.”

He side eyed her a long moment.  He was intrigued, despite himself.  “What’s the favor?”

She took a small painting out of her pocket and slid it over to him.  “Another debt to pay…that woman has a soul mate out there.  I know where he is.  If you get her to my house tomorrow night, I can unite them, give them a chance at well deserved happiness.”

“Yeuch.”  He said, then picked up the painting.  “Wait.  That’s my PA.”

“Is it?  How delightful.  Isn’t just splendid how fate intervenes.”  She put a card on the desk.  “This is the address.  Hope to see you.”  She held up her finger.  “There is one thing.  She can’t know.  You have to get her there without her knowing why.  Alright?”

“Don’t hold your breath.”  He muttered.

“Good.  I am glad you understand.  Ciao!”

He picked up the card.  And cursed a bit.

NIght, in the time middle of nowhere:

“So, Mister Phillips…are you taking me out into the middle of the woods to murder me?”  His PA asked, laughing.  She didn’t know he was a vampire.  Telling people what he was hadn’t worked out very well at his last job, so he’d been much more circumspect this time.

“I promise, you are safe.  From me.  I don’t know what Corporate will do, though,” he said, turning down another road.  

“So, did they tell you what the meeting is about?”

“It’s meant to be a retreat.  All the heads of the various branches and their PA’s.  They want to re-envision the future of the company”. He took one hand off the wheel to put air quotes in the right place.  “Apparently they messed up your email address so we didn’t get the invite in time.  Someone caught it and called me directly.”

“I hope the place they picked is nice…”. She was looking out the window, trying to make out the road ahead.  “Carol in accounting is super jealous.  I think she has a bit of a crush on you…”

“Well, I am irresistible.”

“Mostly.”  She grinned at him.  A square of light grabbed her attention.  “I think we’re here.”

He pulled up to the house.  It looked sketchy at best, and the looks his PA were casting made him wonder if her trust was stretching a little too thin.

He got out and walked up to the porch.  The Fae came out this time wearing a chic, flowery dress.  She ignored Max and called to his PA.  “Don’t be afraid.  You are here so I can talk to you about your dreams…and by that, I mean the Spaniard, with the scar over his eye.”

The PA froze.  “You…you know about him?”  

“Go inside, dear, and I will tell you all about him.  But I need to talk to Max, here, first”

His PA stopped next to him, put her hand on his arm.  “Will you be OK?”

“Absolutely.  You know me.”

She went into the house.  

“Come here, Max.”  The Fae held out her hand, gesturing him to come up to the porch.  He did.  A card table was set up, with one chair.  Two cards lay face down.  “Here is your choice.  Are you ready?”

He stood there, looking at the table, and nodded.  Fear coursed through him, as strong as the day cold hands grabbed him from behind, teeth sinking into his throat…

She reached down and flipped over a card.  The Queen of Spades.  “Darkness ever lasting.  A vampire queen even now is looking for her equal.  She will choose you, and the two of you will know power beyond your wildest dreams…until enough people get angry about it and decide to deal with you both.  You will not love her, but who needs love when you have sex and death and all the power you ever hoped for?”

She reaches again, flips over another card.  The Queen of Hearts.  “And this.  This is life.  Your soul will wake up, and you will be twenty one and full of possibilities again.  Your heart will beat every beat that was stolen from you.  The slate will not be wiped entirely clean, but you will have a chance — a chance with your lovely librarian.  Children.  Be kind when you were once cruel, and live a decent, good life.”  

His lips were numb.  “How…how long?”

“Long enough.  You will not feel cheated.  It will be a plain sort of life, but it will be yours, and you will have the woman you love…some would say that is worth dying for.”

“What do you know about death?  Your kind just fade when they are tired of living.  You will never know the absolute fucking horror of your body betraying you.  The fucking humiliation that waits.  The pain.”

“No.”  She said softly.  “I do not.”  She kissed his temple.  “I am sorry.  If I had met you sooner, perhaps…but, in any case, I consider all debts paid.  When you are ready, pick up the card representing your choice, and rip it in half.  Choose well, Maxwell Phillips.  May we never meet again.”

He didn’t notice her leave.  He sat down, weak, at the table.

Life.  Death.  Life.  Death.  

He’d seen both his parents die terribly.  After he was turned, he’d mourned, then he realized the gift he’d been given.  No hospitals.  No lingering disease.  No pain.

His hand hovered next to the Queen of Spades.  No love, but power and sex.  He’d tried to recover, tried to be good, for you.  And he’d started feeling the guilt.  And with guilt, came all the excuses.  That he was living according to the nature that had been forced upon him.  That he was giving people a gift…they died, or they become something that could never die.

You don’t punish the wolf for being a wolf.

But that was why it had been easy to walk away.  Because you deserved better.  Not a vampire.  Not a wolf.  A man…

He did not hear the car, but he heard the thump of the other man’s steps as he mounted the porch.  

“She’s in there…”  he said, barely paying attention.  

When the other man left, he repeated what he said to him, in his head.  Choosing between life and death.

He picked up the Queen of Hearts.  His hands were shaking.  He ripped the card in half.  Darkness roared around him, pulled him under.

When he woke up, he was on the floor of his apartment.  

No.  His fucking.  College.  Dorm room.

“Dude, you started early.”  Evan’s stupid face appeared as he bent over him.  

Max wondered if he could punch him in the face.  It would feel really, really good to punch the other man in the face,

“OK, well, I’m going to an away game…see you sometime tomorrow.”

He put the palms of his hands in his eyes.  “Yeah…have fun.”

Evan stepped over him.  “See ya…wouldn’t want to be ya!”  The door slammed shut and Max raised both hands in a one finger salute towards it.

He made himself get up and go to the bathroom.  He looked younger but not better, per se.  What is wrong with me?  What’s this feeling?

It wasn’t just that he could feel his body working.  Feel breath (was breathing always so fucking noisy?) and heat beats and aches in his neck and back from laying weird on the floor.

He’d lived for years.  But right now, he was still the same angry, miserable hit mess of a man he’d been at this point of his life.  

A phone was ringing, he went and grabbed it.

“Hey Maxie.  Is Evan gone?”  Evan’s girlfriend.  Great.

Oh.  

“Yeah.  Yeah.  Look…”

“Awesome.  I bought the cutest bra and panties…”

And this is where, he thought, this is where he took the step to becoming the man you deserved him to be.  “That’s great.  But you know…I only want to fuck you because your boyfriend is an annoying twit.”

Shocked silence.  OK still an asshole.  Check.  So much for being a sweet boy when I was younger.  “Look. I meant what I said.  You are beautiful. You are probably far, far too good for Evan. Or maybe not, if you are willing to screw around with an asshole like me. In any case, you deserve better. But you have to decide what better is.”

This treated him to a string of profanity before the woman hung up.

Then, he walked to the infirmary, and asked for aspirin. And if there were any free spots for the therapist.

Sunday, the conversation between roommates went like this:

“So you were going to screw my girlfriend?”

A shrug — Max concentrated on the video game.  “Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

He paused the game.  “Because you deserve better.”

He felt Evan throw himself on the couch next to him.  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re just so fucking happy and peppy and optimistic and everything is going to be awesome but I think the world is shit and misery and maybe if you dialed it back a little I we could have conversations that didn’t end with me wanting to punch your face.”

“Dude.”  It sounded defeated and apologetic at the same time.

Max held a controller out to him. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less of an asshole.”

He took it.  “I’ll try to be less…happy?”

Max sighed.  “Just don’t get me kicked out, ok? I can’t afford anywhere else and I really don’t want to end up in Transylvania.”

Two years later, he decided he could go and find you.

Most people went to nice places on their spring break.

Max got on a bus and headed to a University in the next state.  They’d had their Spring break a week sooner.

There you were. Sitting cross legged on a bench with a man with a streak of blonde in his hair, and a suit coat with elbow patches.  Elbow patches.  Pretentious asshole.

You were tucking hair behind your ear. You liked him. Max wondered if he should leave, come back…in a year?  Three?  When did he have a right to become part of your life?  Did he even?

You look at him and smile and it is sunshine and he can’t leave.

The man on the bench says something about class.  “See you at work,” she tells him, and he lopes off in an easy walk to one of the brick covered class buildings.

Max approaches carefully.  “Hey.  Um.  I’m thinking about transferring here, wondered what it’s like?”

She shifted her bag over, even though there was plenty of room to sit, and he took it as an invite.  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

He gave her his best smile. “Everything. I want to know everything.”

[sango-blep]

Art question: your colors and lighting are always so gorgeous - what’s your process look like for colors in terms of layering/combining colors?

Ok, time for the end boss, this is probably gonna be a long one so I hope this is still gonna be understandable and not too much as a text post.

First up I’m just gonna put a quick and very basic break down of how I often approach coloring before I go more into detail.

I’d definitely recommend to not leave your canvas white while painting, I either rough in my background first or give the canvas a grey-ish blue color if it doesn’t have one. The bright white of the canvas will make it harder for you to judge colors, having a nice midtone will help you make better color decisions and get more accurate colors!

Here’s a little snippet from a previous post about how I pick color! (check out full post for some useful links)

Here is one of the brushes I really like using in paint tool sai2! Other than that I might use the standard marker tool with a square shape. In clipstudio i try to use similar textured brushes.

To blend or to create soft edges, which really helps you to sculpt your drawiing/painting, I often just start painting on a new layer above the one with the base color and then use a soft eraser! I might also use paint tool sai’s water tool, which I find really useful and pretty unique, I sadly haven’t really been able to replicate it in programs like clip studio.

In the two pictures above I already did a lot of defining and painting before I moved to a layer ontop of the lines because the lines were fairly clean already. Sometimes my “underpainting” looks way rougher though and I just put in some blobs of color for hue variation, especially the more red-ish areas and then do most of the painting above the lineart layer! Not sure if there’s much to say to the overpainting stage, as mentioned before this is just where I clean up the whole drawing and define the features more, especially the eyes, eyebrows and lips.

NOW, the real fun begins....

After I’m mostly done with painting, I start to properly establish the lighting, some people find it easier to do it the other way around, and sometimes I do so too. But often I push for the strong lighting at the end so I can focus more on painting. This is where I play around a lot with layer modes, usually I use a combination of overlay and shine to put in some bright warm light from one direction!

The way I do it is I usually put all the layers of the person/object into a folder so it’s separated from the background, then I make a new layer on top of that folder and use clipping group. It works similar to a layer mask, whatever i do in those clipped layers will only affect the layers that are in the folder! Since only my character is in that folder, my background will be left alone.

As mentioned before, I now use gradients to give the entire picture more hue variation and to properly give it strong lighting. Make sure the gradient tool is set to “color to transparency”. I use a warm orange/red color for the top right side where I want the light to hit and put it in overlay mode. And then use a colder purple/blue color on multiply mode and pull it up from the bottom to the middle.

At the end I often adjust the colors a bit, I like to use cool colors in the background to make the warm colors of the skin etc pop! So often I push those reds of the characters a little more! In paint tool sai I just adjust the hue and saturation a bit. In more complex programs like CSP I do it in the color balance option.

You can see how I pushed it a bit more towards red here, to make it stand out more against the blue-ish background. I also pushed the blue’s in the hair color. Giving dark hair blue-ish undertones can make for a really good contrast compared to the warm colors in the skin! I think this last part is really the most important to me,lighting can REALLY change your entire picture, and I think gradients are a super easy and fast way to do it! If I pull up the picture from the beginning again, you can see just HOW MUCH the picture changed again after I was pretty much done painting by adding strong lighting! It’s a good way to pull the attention to a certain spot, in this case the faces/the kiss, where all the strong saturated colors are!

I also think that a good contrast between warm and cool colors is really important! As you can see I often use that to make my characters stand out from the background. If you put everything in cool colors or everything in warm colors it’s easy to make your object get lost in the background. I recently found this guys YT channel, he talks alot about warm vs cold colors, which I think is so helpful! I’ve hardly seen any other artists talk about it that much. If any parts were unclear or I left something out/ someone wants to know more about a certain topic just let me know! Thanks to everyone who’s sent me asks

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous 

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Angst/violence/gore/blood/mentions of prostitution/SMUT(eventual)/veryinaccuratesurgicalprocedure

     Honestly words have been fermenting in my brain for many moons. I am new to this, so please be gentle.  I have written before, however never for a fandom. Special thank you to @yespolkadotkitty and @rzrcst for their support and encouragement, it truly means the world to me.

Summary: You are a nurse on the Green moon contracted to care for a group of prospectors. An act of violence forces you to flee your camp. Ezra finds you.

Words: 2376

 PART ONE

    The first time Ezra fell, it was with the Saters. You’d been hunched in a cordoned-off section of tent, dust motes waxing and waning against the haze of thick, dank air. At least you could breathe, a small mercy it was to remove your helmets and sit unfettered in the musty inner folds of the makeshift barracks.

    The Sater stank. When he sneered at you, his grey lips parted to reveal the jagged tombstones of his teeth. When you had first sat down and dispelled with the perfunctory greetings, choking down the offering of what always reminded you of unsweetened Turkish coffee mixed with engine oil, his eyes made no attempt to hide the way they had raked over you as if you were some shiny toy. Or a bag of meat. You were under no delusions when it came to the fact that you, by nature of being female, were going to be ogled. Still, it left you no less disgusted as you fought to keep your face impassive while his eyes honed in on your chest.

    Ezra sat beside you on the narrow bench, hunched forward with forearms balanced on knees that were spread to allow for his head to clear the sunken canvas ceiling. His expression was equally neutral, the only hint of tension showing in the tight bunch of muscle at his jaw. He knew as well as you that if the sater did not accept the barter, things would turn dark.

    Ezra had been here longer than you. Stranded with no transport after the crew he’d arrived with turned on each other over dig locations and payload disbursement. The pod they’d arrived in had been burned, irreparably damaged and left no more than a husk in the Green due to the short-sighted fury and bullheaded ire of his hired compatriots. In the fracas, he’d sustained an injury to his right arm from a rogue thrower shot. In retrospect it could have been much worse, but the spores of mold that made the air so toxic had worked its way into his flesh the same way selfishness and suspicion had seeded the demise of his partners.

    You were hired as a nurse to tend to your own hired prospecting crew, lured in with promises of adventure and treasures beyond your wildest dreams. You had known there had to be a catch, you were not so naive to believe that consequence could elude you, but you had signed the contract anyway hoping for more than the dreary clinic you’d worked in for the past five years. You were alone, you were lonely, you had no family. Your few friends had steadily drifted away from you as they met their own partners, started their own families. You were left to the ether. So you signed almost without thought when the recruiter came, signed before you had time to think it through, because you were aware that if you thought too much you’d talk yourself out of it. You knew all too well how adept you were at talking yourself out of things.

    So, you’d arrived on the Green and things had proceeded as planned, uneventful for the most part. The others on the crew were respectful, if a bit distant. Nothing untoward had happened until a contractor by the name of Jorin began to take a particular interest in you. At first you’d been able to politely deflect his advances. Showing up in your tent unannounced, he feigned all manner of illness and injury to get your attention. Over time he became more aggressive, invading your space until you had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not welcome. It was not until he’d followed you back to your cot and tried to push you down that you’d snapped. You hadn’t meant to kill him, but the scalpel you had hidden in your fist had found its way to his carotid artery nonetheless. So you left, and you were blank and in shock and covered in someone else’s blood when Ezra found you.

    He’d stood, imposing and straight-backed, hand on hip while his head followed your shambling approach. Your adrenaline was waning, and you shuffled forth on trembling legs, hands held aloft in supplication. When you reached his clearing in the midst of dense vegetation you noted his mouth moving at light-speed, the hand on his hip twitching toward the thrower he had slung across his back. As you got even closer you noticed his eyes were wide. You were not on the same transmission channel so you could not hear him. Your hands gestured as if underwater, left hand tapping your transceiver while your right held up three trembling fingers. When Ezra understood he switched the channel and immediately his animated drawl was filling your helmet.

    “.....cannot fathom how you are standing in my sights looking like you’ve been baptised by Lady Bathory herself, alone? Please do tell this lonely old prospector how in Kevva’s name above you’ve found yourself in such a state of affairs?”

    You noticed immediately that he did not seem at all frightened or wary of your appearance, just confused, and….excited? You gazed up into the visor through a constellation of blood spatter and freed your tongue from its bone-dry cavern, swallowing thickly.

    “I didn’t mean to kill him. He tried to, to…..he came after me.”

    Ezra stepped forward in what seemed a conspiratory move. You froze. Taking note, he’d immediately stepped back, but his dark eyes fastened to yours with an intensity that made you feel as though he could see through you into your very essence, every shameful childhood memory, every flaw and triumph as readable as prose on paper.

    “Intention rarely informs the realities of snuffing out the flame of mortality. Between intention and action there lay an endless array of variables, something I know as well as my own name. In all my time on the Green the one thing that continues to ring true is that people here take. If you have nothing to offer, they will find something to take.” 

    He straightened before continuing, “Given that you are appreciably female I can imagine what it is he believed himself entitled to. You have none of that to fear from me, little stranger. I am but one lost soul amongst this verdant hellscape.”

    You were still processing the events of the past several hours, and it took you some time to accustom your ears to the man’s mellifluous cadence. The people in your previous company had been stilted, blunt, mostly monosyllabic. This man before you spoke as if convinced his words would alight and manifest whatever sacred force or unimagined color the universe deemed fit to spew forth. It was incongruous. You considered your next words carefully before you spoke.

    “Do you have a dwelling? A tent? I hate to impose, but this is my only suit and I’d like to get as much blood out of it as I can.”

    That was how you’d become acquainted with Ezra. You’d exchanged names as you walked to his tent, and all the while Ezra pontificated. The tent was modest, two cots arranged across from one another. Equipment stacked along one canvas wall, while texts and notebooks spread across a folding table toward the front entrance. Ezra explained where the water source was located as you both disconnected your helmets and stripped your suits. The blood splashed across yours had dried to a dull rust. Almost as if it could be something other than blood. Almost. 

    You’d set the suit to soak in cold water and truly noticed the man in front of you for the first time. He was tall and broad-shouldered, thick locks jutting chaotically from the dome of his head and curling around the lobes of his ears. A shock of blond colored the seam of his hairline. His brow was lined with years of tension and unrest. Wide, dark eyes below pronounced brows. A prominent aquiline nose. His mouth, still moving. Always moving, as if he were trying to get every thought he had out of his head before the hourglass ran out on him.

    Your eyes were next drawn to a dirty bandage circling his arm. You’d been so lost in your head over the strange turn of events that you did not notice the barely perceptible wince as he inventoried what appeared to be dried ration packets.

    “What happened? To your arm, I mean?”

    Ezra sighed deeply before answering. “Merely a flesh wound from an errant thrower blast while my crew and I were in the midst of parting ways. It was a most unsavory affair, I’m afraid. I don’t believe the weasel wielding the staff even meant to shoot me.”

    You stepped closer, eyeing the torn, worried cloth. “You have to be careful. The spores in the air will seep into everything, especially an open wound. Your bandage is filthy. Do you mind if I take a look?”

    “You have experience with dressing wounds?”

    “I’m a nurse.”

    You were wholly unprepared for the brilliant smile that split his face. Suddenly you could see the younger, roguish man that he had undoubtedly once been. You were suddenly overwhelmed, you could not understand how the heart in your chest fluttered as desperately as a bird beating its wings against the cage of your ribs. You felt close to panic as you realized that you were reacting this way to a man you did not know. 

    Careful.

    “Kevva above, I must have done something right in a past life as I’ve done nothing in this one to deserve such a fortuitous gift! A nurse! An angel of mercy, a dove of benevolence!”

    You felt heat rush to your face, and you cursed your feeble emotions as you turned quickly away from him. Please, ignore my abject idiocy. 

    “Med kit?”

    “Ah, of course. My apologies, Dove, I forget myself.”

    You pointedly ignored the unprompted endearment as any further contemplation on this new development would lead to literal hysteria. What the fuck is wrong with me?

    Ezra sat at the table near the entrance, sweeping the array of notebooks and papers to the side. You pulled up a crate once taking the med kit and unwrapped the soiled bandaging. You understood how awkward it had to be to dress a wound with one hand, and so you were able to forgive the haphazard application. He hissed and winced again as you revealed a very red, open and angry wound bed assaulting the meat of his right bicep. Black had begun to settle in around the ragged edges. It did not look good. Your gut sank as you noticed the purplish pucker of skin surrounding a crater that oozed and tunneled, purulent drainage saturating the underlying gauze. 

    The mold had done a spectacular job of decaying what would have normally been a straight forward traumatic thrower wound. You were shocked that Ezra was not screaming in pain.

    You kept your face studiously blank as you set out supplies: a vial of Ancef, sterile saline, bandaging, gauze, antimicrobial foam, hydrogen peroxide, a basin, and the scalpel you’d kept clutched in your fist as you’d fled. There was an injectable narcotic preloaded, you offered this to Ezra and he shook his head, his eyes still and worried. He knew it was bad, and he was scared. A wave of melancholy slammed into you and without thinking, you reached out and laid your fingers gently on his wrist.

    “Hey.” He met your eyes, and they were old. Ancient, and filled with what was akin to an existential weariness. You had to dig the toe of your boot into your calf to keep your eyes from filling with tears. You cleared your throat. It did not sound like a noise you’d make. You wondered who you were, really, before speaking.

    “I’m going to do the best that I can. It won’t be pretty. Your wound is badly infected. The black bits are necrotic, and if I don’t debride your wound it will spread. I’m going to try my hardest to save your arm. This is going to hurt, so I really think you should take the injection.”

    Ezra’s solemn gaze swung to fasten on yours. After a pause of internal debate, he simply nodded. You filled the basin with hydrogen peroxide and placed the scalpel in. You picked up the preloaded syringe and sterile gauze and quickly discharged the narcotic serum into Ezra’s left deltoid. His eyes soon took on a haze of detachment, pupils constricting to pinpoints.

    You picked up the scalpel and got to work, and Ezra finally screamed.

    He kept his arm impressively still while sweat cut rivulets down the planes of his face. His jaw clenched so tightly you feared his teeth would crack and splinter- you’d finally and wordlessly paused your work to place a length of spare leather strapping between his teeth, which he clamped onto like a feral dog.

    You worked quickly and wordlessly, cutting ribbons of spoiled flesh from the blessedly granulating bed of tissue and muscle beneath. Your mind worked in circular prayer, asking forgiveness from the universe for killing, for hurting. Ezra’s flesh was a sacred scroll and you were inscribing your texts upon it, begging for deliverance. It was not lost on you that the same scalpel you’d used to snuff one life was carving death out of another.

    When the deed was done, you reconstituted the Ancef and injected it into the meat of his buttock. You did it quickly, too wrung out and disturbed to feel impure. There was nothing prurient about what had just happened, nothing sexy in his agony. For all of its intimacy it was brutal and ugly and traumatic. At that moment you were inextricably bound to one another.