#tried to go for a vintage photo look and I think it worked

[liftfox]

Character sketch of a crazy fortune teller that's maybe gotten a bit too close to the eldritch.

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ after the break up (prt 2)

˚ · . kenma kozume, iwaizumi hajime, tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi & atsumu miya (prt 1.)

KENMA KOZUME — he feels really stupid. kenma does a lot after the breakup in order to distract himself. he buys more games, staying up until it's almost dawn. all of his attention goes into his video games and other devices that he completely stops taking care of himself subconsciously. it's only when he's lost almost 10 pounds is when he realizes how neglected he's become. it happened so fast it confuses him. why didn't you remind him to eat? or shower? oh.. right, it's because you broke up with him in the first place. still, he tries to forget. it's one night playing a game when he's dissociating randomly thinking about you does it all hit.

Super Mario Bro's plays in the background of his room. for once, his fingers are still but his eyes are locked on the pixilated screen in front of him. his eyes are red and dialted due to the bright screen contrasting to the dark dead of night. this game was very expensive, vintage and one of a kind—yet he's subconsciously stuck thinking about you.

did you know he thought about you so frequently? did you think the same of him? he drops the console, fishing his phone out from below him. his fingers tap on the keyboard, searching up your name into his contacts. he notices the last time you texted him was over a month ago. oh–, right. you broke up with him. right. kenma drops his phone back down, laying his face down into the same giant kirby plushie you bought him a long time ago.

a soft sniffle escapes through the thick material, mixing in with the almost taunting upbeat cartoon music.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — your breakup was done on good terms. he was moving to the U.S., you were staying in Japan. neither of you knew the relationship wouldn't withstand such a long distance relationship so the relationship came to an end. the two of you still call and text over random things, but it's not like how things were before. time passes, and the two of you have less and less contact. iwaizumi is doing his weekly stalking of your Instagram when he realizes you've posted a photo of yourself.. but you aren't alone.

iwaizumi sighs with content when he's finally allowed to sit down, his legs sore from harsh muscle training. as always, he checks his phone. once he's finished going through his messages, ignoring almost everyone except his mom, he comes across your contact. the last you spoke with him was almost a year ago. he frowns, he wishes the two of you kept in contact, but you both were just so busy.

curiously, he indulges in his guilty pleasure and opens up instagram. as if on autopilot, he searches for your online handle. you both follow each other, but of course, never speak. he mindlessly scrolls through your highlights and posts, ending up on your most recent one. it's you. his heart flutters at the sight of you once more. even through a screen, you're still as beautiful as always. you're glowing and radiant as always.

his childish smile soon disappears when he realizes someone has their arm wrapped around you. a guy. a guy who is looking at you with the same loving look iwaizumi would give you long, long, ago. iwaizumi uninstalls the app shortly afterwards.

TSUKISHIMA KEI — he avoids you. he pretends you don't exist altogether. his heart cringes whenever he hears you around, regretting immensely when the two of you arranged your classes together in the previous year. it's childish. no, he's childish. especially because the breakup was more of his fault. still, he hides the fact that his heart is broken. he treats you like everybody else with such hate and bitterness, and only realizes how stupid he's being when it's too late.

"hey kei." you say, walking along aside the tall blonde. "do you want to work on the project together? sensei said that–," "i don't want to work with you." he says coldly. tsukishima doesn't even look to acknowledge you, staring straight forward as he walks. "o-oh, well i just y'know—" you stutter embarrassingly, "i just thought that because—" tsukishima finally stops in his tracks, swiftly turning to you, looking at you through clouded lenses.

"why do you keep on pestering me." his tone leaves you shocked. you can't even think of words to say, only able to let out incoherent stutters and mumbles. "all you do is stutter, it's annoying." tsukishima says nonchalantly, still looking at you with distain.

that seems to shut you up for now. tsukishima is relived when you do, if you talked to him anymore he probably would've accidentally spilled how he missed you. his relief is short lived when he sees the tears roll down your face and out of embarrassment, you quickly walk away from him. he's left standing still, gazing down at the floor. heart heavy and regretting.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he thinks he's alright but he doesn't realize he's distraught. he continues on with his life like normal, seemingly at peace and happy with whatever he's doing. but, he does have to admit, he's been feeling a bit more.. confused? more like agitated. outside of his calm demeanor to untrained eyes, he seems perfectly normal. but, to those who are close with them, they can see what's actually going on in that seemingly perfect head of his.

hazel eyes watch closely as you walk past. ushijima awaits for you to come up to him like normal, talk to him and pester him with a million questions once more. he hated when you pestered him, he wished you were more quiet and reserved... or did he? he's not sure. because now you are walking away from him, not saying a single word. hell, you barely acknowledge his presence. how do you not? he's everything you said catches your eye, tall and muscular build, with a handsome perfect face.

"y/l/n." he rumbles out. the boom of his voice finally catches your attention, finally spinning around to acknowledge him. you seem defensive, like a cornered cat, a single eyebrow quirking up at his call. "..ushijima-san?" his heart, for some reason, sinks into his gut with the formality use of his name. what happened to toshi? for once, his words are stuck in his throat and he struggles to come up with something to say.

seeing that he's yet to say anything, you hurry out of his presence, trying to be released from the gaze of the man you are forbidden to love. meanwhile, ushijima is realizing for the first time, that maybe he lost someone who he isn't fine with leaving.

MIYA ATSUMU — he's like a pitiful dog. he plays off the break up like it's nothing, even to your face, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath and walked away. despite the two of you dating for a year, going through so many things together, hell, he even lost his virginity to you, but he still acts like it was nothing.. but everyone can tell it's not. much to his annoyance, even his twin brother tells him to take it easy following the break up. but he's fine. it was nothing. he definitely doesn't search for you in the crowd during his games, nor does he get the random pang of forgetfullness after school as if he should be waiting for you. he's fine.

a girl comes up to atsumu after his game, batting her long eyelashes and pouting her lips. "can i get your number?" she asks, making her voice as smooth as possible. atsumu blinks at her with a blank face before turning his back to her, ignoring her entirely. he ignores her whines and curses of embarrassment, his eyes scanning the emptying crowd.

"shes not here, 'tsumu." he hears a familiar voice say. atsumu snaps his head back to the direction of the voice, seeing osamu standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes low and unamused. atsumu scoffs at his brother, "yah i know." the two of them wait in silence, but for what? what is he waiting for? suddenly, his ears perk up at a familar body frame, eyes darting to the source only to be severally disappointed with the sight of a person who looks like you, but isn't you.

"let's go home, 'tsumu." osamu says, walking past the blonde haired man. atsumu waits a couple more seconds, taking another quick scan of the crowd before he's hestiantly following his brother, shoulders low and eyes to the ground.

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[pix-writes]

Catalogues

Stanley Pines x F!Reader (one shot)

AO3

Tags: mild mentions of sex work, homelessness and implied sexual trauma, angst with comfort, fluff, smutty themes (stan gets a little of the TLC he deserves), newly established relationship, implied age gap (not specified but are both adults)

Rating: Mature | 18+ MDNI

Summary: based on the prompt on this post from lore on thisisnotawebsitedotcom by @razziematazz

Words: <1.6k

Shrugging with the heavy box in your arms to adjust your grip, you called out into the shack. “Hey! Stan! I’ve got a surprise!”

You couldn’t believe your luck when you had found this stack of old-looking comics at the big yard sale, Stan was going to be thrilled.

Now here you were, spreading the contents onto the living room floor. 

“So, did I do good or what?!”

“You did great, toots! How much did this cost?”

“Pff! That’s not important!” You grinned, watching as Stan flicked through one of the comics. “How old do you think they are, anyway?”

“Definitely vintage, some of ‘em are probably older than you!” He said with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Shut up!” You laughed, throwing a mock punch. “I’m not that young, you know.”

Stan caught up your wrist easily, motioning like he was about to bite off your fingers he chuckled at your squeal, before placing a kiss to your palm. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say sweetheart.”

“Don’t know what’s gotten into you.” You muttered reaching into the box to pull out another pile, some of the glossy paper slipped through your hands, landing with a slap on the floor.

Stan snatched up a few just as you registered what you were looking at.

“Oh.” The heat rose to your face.

“"Now this is interesting! Who knew you were the type to buy a load of dirty ol’ mags, huh?”

“I didn’t know they were in there, the guy selling them likely didn’t either.” He was trying to be sly, but you could see he pocketed one of them and you reached to snatch one up. He stretched his arm up, so it was out of your grasp. “Hey! Stan! C’mon, that’s a double standard.”

“Hmm… I’m just gonna take a peek, maybe it’ll give me a few ideas.” He wiggled his eyebrows salaciously.

You both burst into laughter.

“I’m glad the kids aren’t here!”

You dove to reach the ones in your partner’s hand and this time he let you take it.

Sitting on the couch you both glanced at the forbidden material and giggled.

“Oh man, some of this stuff is older than me! And terribly niche!” You were so absorbed in looking at the men in the catalogue, hair and clothing looking so dated now, that you didn’t notice how quiet Stan had gotten. “I mean, hunky drifters, who even buys this stu-”

You had turned the page to an image that was familiar from photos you had seen before, though admittedly, he had more clothes on in those. Swallowing thickly as you realised that the eyes staring back out of the page at you were definitely those of your partner’s.

Stan remembers it clearly, though some of the details are hazy, he remembers the ad, the amount of short-change in his pocket and the duffel bag with the broken strap he kept over his shoulder. The nice lady at the desk had the gift of the gab and reeled off what they wanted, how he fit into it, how much money he could get. The place didn't look too classy, but it was warmer than it was outside.

"That's all part of it, darlin', it's supposed to be real, that's what our customers want!" She'd said with a wink and a squeeze of his arm, after he'd voiced some misgivings about taking off too much. He remembered the beady eyed photographer and his small crew directing him…

The place was a total meat market too, as he glanced around, he’d seen other people there to model all under dismissive eyes or hungry ones. The comments he’d gotten had made him shiver and he’d tried ever since to block them out of his mind. 

He'd only left with a fraction of what they'd promised, but it was better than nothing, even if his ears were burning.  

You couldn’t tear your eyes away for a few long moments. Stan was lying, no leaning, against the hood of a beaten-up looking car, rough jeans unzipped, cock in his grip red at the tip and dribbling precum. His face held a crooked, almost nonchalant smile - if that was a thing. Like he knew he looked good and he didn’t care who was watching. And yet… the camera had managed to pick up the faint blush over his cheeks. It sent a spark of heat straight down to your groin.

You practically dropped the magazine when you saw the second photo, the younger Stan was in the backseat of the car, legs spread, the camera took the shot from a low angle which meant there was little left to the imagination, since the only thing he was wearing was a loose, open hoodie…

“Oh my, Mr Mystery! I never knew you did this, how scandalous!” You said, trying to laugh to break the tension, though your mouth felt dry.

But Stan didn’t say anything, your smile dropped as he turned away.

"Stanley.” That gave him pause. You only said his full first name when you were being serious or affectionate. "Tell me what’s wrong…. Are you embarrassed?”

“No!”

“Then tell me. I’m sorry, I was just joking around, I didn’t mean to poke fun.”

Stan sighed, turning to look at you once again. “It’s not to do with you, baby. I… you know about my driftin’ days?” You nodded. “I needed some quick cash, I saw this ad, talked to a couple people who told me it was some modelling photoshoot. Hah, well, naively it sounded kind of classy to me then, but it turned out to be… not. But it was okay, I guess. Just didn’t think any of it would still be lying around.”

"What did you, um... Think about, when you...?" You couldn’t help but let the words tumble out of your mouth.

"I don't remember thinking much of anything… 'cept wanting money for a warm bed."

You looked as the man shrugged like it was nothing whilst you felt like your heart, once again, shattered into a million pieces for him. "Oh, honey..."

He cringed at your tone. You couldn't have that.

You took his hands into your warm ones, stroking your thumbs over them.  "Stanley. Look at me... Do you honestly think I'd judge you for this?"

He squirmed at your directness. “I... You... I dunno, you're so..."

"So?"

"So... Uhm... Fine! I thought you might, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly a pinnacle of virtue, baby.”

“Yeah, but, you deserve better than me, ya know?” He smiled weakly.

“I don’t pity you and I’m certainly not going to judge you for surviving. Hell, I wouldn’t judge you if you’d done it for fun, either…In fact, I, uh…”

Stan registered the way you ducked your head, hands clasped together, like you had done on your first date. “You what?”

“Never mind.” You said, getting up to gather some of the magazines together. “L-let’s just-”  

"-Hey! Hands off the merchandise, toots." He swiped the damn magazine still open to the pages he featured in from underneath you.

“I’ve told you, now you’ve gotta tell me.” He crooked a finger underneath your chin, so you had to look up at him.

You bit your lip. "I found it, um, attractive."  

"Oh yeah?” He leaned in close, that same crooked smile forming, though you could see that the light of it reached his eyes this time. “How attractive?”

“Very.” Stan hummed in response waiting for you to continue. “I-I liked the way you looked, confident and also flustered. You looked good.”

“And what about now, does the real thing live up to it?”

Your hands had started to roam his body, pulling at his shirt, grabbing at his stomach, knowing he was self-conscious about it, despite your insistence that you loved it. You felt almost breathless and he hadn’t even touched you yet. “Let me show you.”

Finally, you were pushed back into the cushions as he kissed you. Feeling the heat of his body on top of yours as you deepened your next kiss. “Touch me.”

He pushed a hand up your shirt teasing and pinching your nipples with his hand. You whined.

“Stanley.”

“I know, doll, I know. So needy.” He rearranged your positions so he could properly grind against you, pulling off your sweater in the process. He moaned into your open mouthed kisses, tongue stroking over his own.

Just when you were starting to unbutton your pants, you heard as someone pulled up onto the gravel outside and a bunch of different voices.

“Shit!”

You don’t know how you managed to untangle yourselves, but soon you ware hastily gathering up the salacious material.

“Sixer's finished his trip with 'em early!”

Taking stairs two at a time, you managed to dump the box in a hidden spot in your room by the time you heard your names being called by Ford.

“Wait a second.” You took the copy of ‘hunky drifters’ out of Stan’s pocket and tucked it under the mattress. “For later.”

A blush creeped up his neck. "You'll be the death of me, doll."

[sirfrogsworth]

When I got to this photo in Katrina's collection of vintage family imagery, I was pretty stumped as to how to approach it.

There is a major problem when you zoom in to 100%.

The paper it was developed on has little micro bumps. When it was scanned, the light from the scanner caused a highlight on one side of the bump and a shadow on the other. This causes a pattern which is nearly impossible to eliminate using traditional techniques.

The easiest way to fix this is actually quite clever. You scan it once, then turn it upside down and scan it again. The second pass reverses the side the highlight and shadow appear on, so you can combine the images in Photoshop and blend them together, essentially canceling out the bumps. It's weirdly analogous to noise canceling headphones.

But I don't have access to the physical copy of this image.

So... now what?

Enter Fast Fourier Transform or FFT.

This is a filter that uses extra fancy math to recognize patterns in the image and eliminate them. There is a pretty good filter for Photoshop, but it does not work easily with newer Macs with Apple Silicon. I really did not want to figure that out, and I also was too tired to go downstairs to my PC. However, I learned that a Photoshop competitor, Affinity Photo, has this filter built in. So, I downloaded a trial copy and started the process of trying to figure out how to fix this image.

It was amazingly simple. It brings up these star patterns and you just paint black circles over every one but the center. It literally felt like magic. (Full screen with sound recommended)

So once I did this process I ended up with this...

The paper still had a rough texture but it was much easier to work with using traditional techniques. I started with a black and white conversion and meticulously went through the photo zapping scratches and flaws and balancing tones and sharpening facial features. All of my photo restoration tricks were needed.

I eventually landed here...

I then thought maybe I should match the sepia tone of the original print, so I got to here...

I think the black and white looks nicer in this instance, but I always like having options and this is the most faithful representation of how the photo originally looked.

But there is something else I have been playing around with lately. Photoshop has these experimental neural filters that use cloud processing to do various tricky enhancements. Most of them are in beta and they can be very quirky. But they have a colorizer that tries to detect people and things and adds color to them. Not every black and white photo is a good candidate. I have found these professional portrait photos work decently, but the filter is very hit-and-miss. And there are tools within the filter to help you make a miss more of a hit, but often I have to accept the photo isn't going to work.

But I decided to give it a shot with this one and surprisingly, the colorizer got me most of the way there.

I can work with that.

The one thing it does well is skin. Manually painting color onto skin is tricky and requires more skill and knowledge of traditional painting techniques than I have. But if a filter can do that part for me, I can do the rest.

So after my touchups, I got the image to here.

All I have left to do is my standard color enhancements to make them a little less ghostly and a little more human.

And I present to you where I started and the finished product. I encourage you to flip back and forth.

I'm not sure how, but I was able to go from an image I thought was impossible to edit to a beautiful colorized memory for my best friend's mom. I cannot wait to show her.

[summerchlds]

I KNOW YOU

Neil Perry x gn! reader

Synopsis: In which you and Neil end up in a vintage photobooth.

An: Hello!! This is my first post on this account so I apologize if this sounds like shit😭 Also!! English is not my first language and I’ve never stepped foot into a Photo Booth so if I wrote something wrong then that’s on me🫡🫡

💌

When you two entered through the curtain and into the booth, You found it to be particularly small, barely big enough for the two of you to fit inside. It was kind of dark, the walls were maroon colored and the only thing there was in there was a built-in camera in the wall and a bench to sit down on so it was kind of empty (besides the scribbles and notes people had written down on the walls that the owners were too lazy to remove). You’ve both never seen or been in a Photo Booth before, not having a single clue on how it exactly worked, fearing that you’d accidentally break something.

“It’s quite cramped in here, isn’t it?” He teased softly, being fully aware of the amount of space you two had. You nodded, breathing out a faint ‘yeah’ under your breath. You tried to make yourself sit comfortably, but it was kind of hard when the side of your body was stuck glued beside his as your other half was against the wall.

Neil leaned down slightly.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked softly, his voice husky as he looked you up and down with a small smile. You once again nodded, not wanting to burden him. It was fine. Afterall, you couldn’t do anything about it. Neil turned his head back to the camera, looking clueless.

“Does it even work?” Neil asked as his brows furrowed.

“I hope so.” You responded, feeling hopeful. There was a button sticking out underneath the camera lens.

“I think this button starts the camera and countdown.” He said, unsure.

Neil reached slightly up to press it, unsure if it was the right thing to do. Thankfully, the lightbulb that hung above us, slowly lit up, triggering the timer countdown for the first picture. As the countdown went, You both realized that you had to act fast if you wanted the pictures to turn out good. You had no idea how many seconds you were given, could’ve been ten seconds or thirty if this machine was nice enough.

“What should we do?” You asked, a little panicky.

“Just smile!” He said quickly, leaning back a little against the wall. You took this opportunity to lean a little closer to the camera as you smiled nervously. You didn’t have that many high hopes for the first picture, just wanting the first picture to show you two smiling as a start. You posed awkwardly for a few seconds before the camera’s flash unexpectedly came on.

The bright flash blinded both of you, causing Neil and you to let out a small groan of discomfort as you both rubbed your eyes. Neil leaned back up beside you as he tried to blink away the spots in his vision, adjusting to the sudden change of light.

Now it was time to think of a new pose to do. Without thinking, you shifted yourself to lean your head towards him as you, again, smiled at the camera. You weren’t expecting for him to do the same though, but he did. Your heads linked together as you both smiled sweetly and the camera clicked once again.

You two pulled apart, feeling the warmthness of his cheek leave yours as you tried to figure out what pose you were going to do next. Neil seemed to have no problem with this whole thing, just freestyling everything. Maybe it was because you knew he would look good in any pose he chose to do.

You suggested to him that you two could make funny faces, just to humorize the photos. He didn’t say anything, let alone move as you got into your position, scrunching up your nose as you smiled mischievously. You awkwardly waited for the photo to be taken as you watched Neil from your peripheral vision. He turned his head towards you and just stayed there, watching you. His gaze seemed to burn a path through you.

You wanted to turn your head to face him but you’d have to wait until the picture would get taken.

When the flash finally covered the whole booth for just a split second before disappearing again, the light above you dimmed, signaling for you two to exit the booth, but you didn't, you stayed there as if you were expecting something more to happen. You turned your head immediately to see what was the problem. You were planning to ask him ‘why didn’t you pose?’ or ‘is there something on my face?’ but when you turned to him, you realized how close your faces were. And suddenly, your mind became blank. He stared down at you with a feeling of undeniable adoration in his brown eyes as he watched you almost hungrily. There was a tender, fond adoration flickering in his eyes, the way it often did in private moments like this. The warmth and affection in his expression made you feel vulnerable and cherized at the same time. His eyes seemed to take in every little detail, capturing it and piercing it into his mind, afraid to lose the memory of how you looked like, in case you two would in the future pull apart and never see each other again. His expression was soft and full of warmth, as if he found every little thing about you utterly mesmerizing.

“What?” You muttered quietly, already feeling yourself getting lost in his eyes. Oh how you could stare into them for hours on end.

“What?” Neil asked in return, his voice low and warm, tinged with a hint of amusement. In the midst of darkness, you could see a speck of light reflecting on his eyes from outside the curtain where the streetlight resided. You felt his breath from his open mouth hit your face as it made you realize how close your faces have gotten.

“May I kiss you?” He softly whispered against your lips, glancing down at them for a split second before returning his gaze up at you.

You opened your mouth, again and again to try and get something out but your voice had given up on you so you just nodded eagerly instead. He leaned down and closed his eyes, pressing his lips gently against yours. His hand travelled to your face, placing it on the back of your head to deepen the kiss. You reciprocated and held his cheek, your thumb grazing his sharp cheekbone. The kiss was short but sweet, only lasting a couple of seconds before he pulled away, exhaling ever so slightly as he looked breathlessly at you. You couldn’t help but let out a cheeky grin that spread over your red face, which caused Neil to laugh at you.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

You walked out of the booth as you watched Neil pick up the pictures that were printed out and examined them. He had a cheeky smile on his face as he looked down on them, making you curious.

“Let me see.” You said and he handed you the strip. Without saying anything, you took it from him and looked at it closely. There were four black & white photos of you two stacked on top of each other, doing various poses for each one. The first photo though, caught your eye. It looked fine at first, you saw yourself smiling and narrowed your eyes to Neil.

His mouth was pulled into a wide smile which showed off his gleaming teeth and dimples. He looked adorable. Though unbeknownst to you, you saw his hand positioned behind your head, creating a bunny ears gesture, making you look like a fool.

When you realized this, you playfully hit his arm as a form of payback. He pulled up his hand to caress the spot where you hit him at, pretending to look hurt as he couldn’t help holding in his laugh.

“I just couldn’t help myself, I had to!” He said between laughs.

You didn’t want to give in but eventually did, giggling along with him.

Besides, you knew you were going to keep these photos in your dorm as a memory, even if they didn’t turn out perfect, they were special.

(After all, no one but you and Neil would fully know what happened after the fourth photo was taken.)

[bogkeep]

"hi haiz how's your watchmaker placement going"

it's going very well thank you, except for the fact that im currently stuck in a comedy of errors but it's fine it's fine i'll fix it ,

so i've been looking at a couple old chronographs, right. basically they're mechanical watches but with a stopwatch mechanism on top, so they're pretty complicated with a lot of moving parts and adjustments. i'm learning a lot from working on them!!

first i look at chronograph #1 which is the most vintage of the bunch, and it takes me a couple trial and errors to figure out how to put it together with only my own photos for reference -

(that's so many screws to keep track of oh god.) BUT I MANAGE. AND IT SEEMS TO TICK ALONG... until it suddenly doesn't????

i decide to take a break from it and look at chronograph #2, which i have a much easier time with and seem to get going real well!!! until i'm about to put the hands back on and find out. that i managed to break the seconds wheel pinion when i removed the hand it connected to. in the very beginning of the process. soooooo that one is put on hold until we get in a replacement part. fun! fun.

so i go back to chronograph #1 in the meantime. a colleague thinks it's the center wheel that's the problem, so i dissassemble the watch only a little bit to take a look, but it seems fine. when i put it back on the watch starts ticking again! maybe it was just a hiccup of some s- no wait it stopped again. with a sigh, i decide to start over again, put all the parts in the wash again because i've fiddled so much with it the lubrication is probably completely off, and

PROBLEM IDENTIFIED

usually you'd replace the whole spring barrel if you have one. but the problem with vintage watches, especially of more obscure brands, is that you're unlikely to have that at hand. but that's fine, i'm not getting paid to be here nor am i doing work for actual clients so i can absolutely spend a whole day doing This:

GOOD AS NEW!!!!!!

all i need to do now is put everything in the wash and assemble everhthing and definitely not break another part immediately!!!

...

you'll never guess what happened

you probably can't tell but the pinion is supposed to be much longer. it was poking out of the cleaning basket and when i tried to pull it out of the cage i heard a snap. just the worst!!!! why am i breaking everything!!!!!

anyway ive decided to take a shot at making a whole new pinion for the seconds counter wheel

which is scary because it has a VERY LONG THIN PART THAT LOVES TO BREAK. this photo is from my second try because my strategy on the first was not very stable.

i spent my whole day doing just this side of it!!!!!!!

AND WHEN I STARTED WORKING ON THE OTHER SIDE. GUESS WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT. IT BROKE! i should have seen it coming

YOU LIVE AND YOU LEARN thank god tomorrow is a bank holiday i need to lie down

one day i shall conquer the chronographs.

[pjisskullourful]

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

⏰Damiano × reader

part 27 [series masterpost]

NSFW🚨 nasty shit, the word nut makes an appearance in a way that has nothing to do with food

° Damiano David/female reader insert ✨ cameos by Victoria De Angelis, Ethan Torchio & Thomas Raggi

wordcount:: 13,492

° wonderfully requested by the wonderful @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic 💋 i’m imagining stained sheets!damiano backstage at a må show with the reader [...] the point is !!time limit!! and damiano says to the reader “you’ve got about four minutes, kitty. either you cum now or you don’t get to at all later,” whilst fingering her. a delicious idea to spend time on! thankyou!!

° [ITA:] cazzo: fuck

° none of the lyrics included belong to me!

Australia may have been the furthest you had ever been from home. You had some vacation days saved up at work, cashing them in to join this part of the world tour. The flight had felt torturously long, but it had been worth it. You and Damiano had taken the touristy photos with koalas, kangaroos and other native animals. You had even gotten some time at the beach, feeling just how warm it could get here.

But it wasn't just about sightseeing and going to vintage clothing stores. Your boyfriend was busy, there were sell-out concerts he had to deliver at.

You had spent an extra stretch of time in bed at your Sydney hotel room, staying asleep while he left for sound check. At dinner last night, you had enjoyed a few too many cocktails with the distinctive name Porn Star Martini. When you didn't have work to worry about the following day, and you had a tour company paying for everything, you found it nearly impossible to not indulge. There were photos of you ruddy-cheeked and pulling down the V-neck of your dress to attest to this. There had even been a part of the night where you had tried to wear Damiano's shirt with him, your heads poking out of the same hole, bodies smushed together.

You were awake by the time he came back to the hotel to collect you. You were dressed and sitting on the floor, in front of a mirror to apply your makeup. You sipped on an iced coffee, getting yourself ready for all the excitement that (still) came from attending a show.

He had been pacing around the room behind you, talking about nothing in particular for a while. Before he paused and seemed to become focused. “I should shower, but should I have a cigarette before or after?”

You scoffed sarcastically. “There's never just one ‘after shower' cigarette with you. You're gonna have a bunch tonight, regardless of when you take a shower.”

“It's part of my artistic process.” He said and you laughed with more sarcasm. “Certainly you're not questioning my artistic process, are you?”

“Oh, most assuredly not. I was just thinking about my artistic process, this makeup doesn't just apply itself. And part of my process is to be given pet bunnies, so many of them.” You said.

He rolled his eyes. “Right, bunnies.”

“Are you questioning my artistic process?” You asked.

“No, no, no.” He said as he crouched down next to you, your eyes meeting in the reflection. “But I do have a question about your process…”

“Mm-hmm, which is?”

His eyes left the mirror, now looking at the side of your face. “At what stage of your process do you get in the shower with me?”

“Alright, I've just powdered on top of my concealer, so… um, never. There is no space in my process for that.” You said, continuing on with your makeup.

“Babe…”

“I’m already doing my makeup, getting it all washed off in the shower now would be such a waste. And I wanna look good for tonight, for you.” You tried to reason with him.

He rested his head on your shoulder, exaggerating disappointment. “But I'm gonna be naked in there.”

“You'll be naked out here, too.” You said. “I know what I'm giving up, and I'm at peace with it.”

He sighed then dropped the dramatic act. “Okay, I don’t understand your decision, but I’ll respect it.” He raised his head, looking at you as he pouted both lips out. You accepted this silent invitation, turning your head so you could kiss him quickly. After this he stood up and you went back to your makeup.

He seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, which slowed him down in the process of removing his clothes. He picked up his phone, tapping at the screen as he pushed his pants down with one hand. You kept your mouth shut against any teasing or sarcastic comments, trying to not become another distraction.

“... should sing that Jet song in the shower, I still don’t think I’ve got the lyrics one hundred percent.” He said of the cover track that was a region-exclusive of the show’s running order.

“That’s a good idea.”

He nodded decisively and looked up to orientate himself toward the suite’s bathroom. “Yep, sound check just for you.”

With the door shut and the water running, his voice didn’t come through very clearly. As you sculpted your eyebrows into the shape you wanted, you couldn’t pick out any of the words he was singing. And you didn’t know the Australian rock song well enough that you could recognise the tempo - you just assumed that he was singing it correctly.

Until he finished in the shower and opened the door, letting you hear each word as he sang it. It was a song you had heard more than once last night, not because he would be performing it tonight. But because Ethan had gotten it stuck in his head.

“Hey mama, this that shit that make you groove, mama…” He wasn’t singing with all of the power his voice box held. “Get up on the floor and move your booty, mama…”

“Still?” You asked, looking over your shoulder to where he was towelling his naked body off. “It’s still stuck in your head?”

He nodded as he kept his spot in the Black Eyed Peas song. “We the blast mast’as…”

The old track had been brought up during dinner last night. A song in the restaurant’s playlist had reminded Ethan of it, but he hadn’t been able to remember its name. Almost everyone sitting around the large table had tried to help him in the task of recalling the title. The easiest place to begin was with the lyrics, but all he could remember was a moment of Fergie singing ‘la-la la-la-la’.

It hadn’t been a quick process of elimination, but eventually the desired result was reached: Hey Mama, it had been a top ten hit.

But not everyone was sure they had heard it. So Ethan went up to the bar, seeing if it could be played soon. When the staff had confirmed it, he thanked and tipped them.

You hadn’t recognised the party song. Victoria knew it and remembered how short Fergie’s skirt had been in the accompanying music video.

There had been some humorous misunderstandings of lyrics. So Ethan had gone back, asking them to play it again, allowing him and a couple of the others to check what they heard against what the online results said.

“I heard it three times last night, what do you expect?” Damiano asked.

The third play had come as your party were preparing to leave the restaurant, the staff doing this of their own volition. One of the team’s assistants, Gianna, had pointed out that this could have been prompted by the fact that tipping wasn’t commonplace in Australia. Ethan providing money with his request may have been a big deal to the staff, prompting them to be more generous with the amount of plays.

Damiano had been sporadically singing snippets of the song to you in the time since the restaurant. But now it seemed that he planned to sing more than just a few lines. And you couldn’t help getting distracted by it. There was a smile on your face as you lowered the small brush, giving more attention to this impromptu, naked show.

He saw you watching and put some more purpose into his movements. This was only a fraction of the energy he would charm the audience with tonight - but it was more than enough to keep you engaged. He had begun smiling, too.

He jumped to be side-on to you, showing you how he matched the swinging of his hips to the next lyric. “...to shake your bum-bum-ah. Come on now, mama.”

You shook your head a little. “I believe that the lyric was actually bam-bam-a.”

“And what the Hell is that?” He asked. “I’m going to sing it my way, which means I’m singing about bum. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking a corner down to keep it in place for the time being. With his shoulders, he did a little shimmy as he took some measured steps around the end of the bed, getting closer to you.

“We the blast mast’as…” He sang. He held your eye in the reflection as some exaggerated swinging of his hips accompanied the steps that delivered him to the space behind you. “...blastin’ up the jamm’a.”

He pointed one finger directly down at you and luckily you knew what he wanted, not embarrassing yourself. You sang at about half the volume he had been singing at. “La-la la-la-la.”

He wasn’t entirely still, making you think that the song continued to play in his mind. “I definitely did not learn the verses.” You laughed to yourself as you picked up your powder, ready to set the work you had done on your brows. “But there’s another part I do know…”

You were trying to not give him so much encouragement. You couldn’t stand the thought of being part of the reason for him not running on time for the show. As much as you were entertained by him, you wouldn’t let the priorities get muddled up. You dipped your brush into the powder, your eyes beginning to travel away from him for brief moments.

His dramatic pause ended with him raising both arms above his head. “The pre-chorus.”

He put his hands together, reaching over to the right. At the same time he jutted his left hip even further out to this side. As he started to sing again, he alternated from side-to-side, his movements fast and well-coordinated. From what you could recall of the beat, he was matching it.

“Now y’all know, who we are. Y’all know, we the stars…”

His next energetic movement made you forget about pressing more powder over the dark colours of your brow. He performed a smooth body-roll to the right. At the same time he lowered one of his hands, licking the tips of his fingers. This was then swiped down and across his nipple, keeping the smile firmly on your face.

“How we rockin’ it, girl. Without bodyguards…”

Before he could reach the next chorus, you were working more consistently on your makeup. You noticed him gathering up the bottom of the towel, but you didn’t try to anticipate what he would do next, just picking up your eyeshadow primer instead.

You got the applicator out of the component, but you didn’t have the chance to touch it to your skin. Things got suddenly darker and you felt something soft pressing against your face, thanks to him throwing part of the towel (which was still attached to him) over your head.

“...dance to the drummer.”

“Damiano.” You snapped, automatically looking up. When this didn’t give you much, you started reaching for the white towel. “Goddamnit…”

“What?” He asked, acting at being oblivious. “Is this not part of your process?”

You were aware of the back of your hand brushing against his cock. But you didn’t let this distract you from your goal of getting free of the towel. You yanked the soft fabric away from your face, stripping it from him in the process.

“Can’t you hold your chaos in until I've finished my makeup?” You asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror again. “Then I’ll play and we can fool around to your heart’s content.”

He picked the towel up, slinging it over his shoulder without a shred of modesty. “I don’t really know why you’re bothering, you’re just going to sweat all of that off before the end of the night.”

You scoffed. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Okay, I was actually referring to the temperature.” He said.

“When are you going to learn to believe in the magic of setting spray?” You asked.

“We could see about sweating it off another way, if you would like, babe.” He said, beginning to run his fingers through your hair.

“Oh yeah, that song just seduced me so much.” You said sarcastically, dabbing the primer onto your eyelids one at a time.

The change in his smile was only subtle, but you had seen it enough to recognise it.

“Can we have a little play right now?” He asked. “I’ll let you finish your makeup, I promise. But I’m feeling like maybe some special Daddy-kitten time is part of my process tonight.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by this proposal (maybe you should have been expecting it since his request to get you in the shower). You had been too drunk upon returning to the hotel last night, sex hadn’t been any kind of option.

You tilted your phone to check the time, not letting yourself give in very much yet. “Won’t that make us late? I don’t want to delay everyone else’s night. You act like it’s nothing, but I know it stresses you out when you run behind for stuff as important as this.” He listened to you, not waiting to butt in. “I’m just trying to be responsible and help out future-Damiano.”

“You’re a good girl. But we don’t have to be late. If we don’t do a whole production, we can meet everyone as soon as the car arrives.” He said, still playing with your hair.

You noticed how he neglected to mention any further time allocated to you doing your makeup. But his determination was so compelling, how could you stand up to that? And did you even want to?

“Do you promise that we won’t be late for the car?” You asked, picking up the bottle of setting spray, instead of going for the eyeshadow palette you had already selected.

He continued to gently play with your hair. “I promise you.”

“I need you to promise that we will stop when time runs out. No matter what part we’re up to, it will be over straight away.” You said.

“Of course I promise, one hundred percent.” He said. But he would have looked more serious in this vow if he could get that smile properly off of his face.

“I think I’m going to need to hear you swear to it.” You said, considering his expression in the reflection. You briefly shut your eyes, applying some of the preserving mist over your eyebrows, which had maintained their shape through the towel attack. “Swear on not accidentally fucking your leg up again.”

This ripped the smile off of his lips. His jaw fell open at the mention of his injury the previous year, which had not only been painful, but had messed with some of his work responsibilities for a while.

“You would wish something like that on me again? That’s cold, babygirl.” He said. But his put-on surprise didn’t result in him getting turned off, his eyes remained on his prize.

“I’m not wishing it on you.” You defended. “I just need you to swear on something serious.”

“Okay, I swear it. Can you suck my dick now?”

“Is that what you want?” You asked.

“Uh-huh.” He said, his smile getting wider now. “I figure I should take advantage of the fact that you didn’t get up to the putting on lipstick part of your process.”

You began to turn around, keeping your eyes up and on his face, even though your own face was immediately lined up with his hardening cock. “You can’t just destroy the makeup on my face. Please let me look a bit presentable. We can get feral later tonight.”

“Feral? I’m gonna hold you to that.” He said.

Your eyes left his face and you considered something of a mental catalogue before making first contact with his cock.

You could see that he wasn’t fully hard yet. So you worked at changing that, applying your tongue to the side of his length with long strokes. He let out a deep exhale and you positioned yourself comfortably on your knees, a stance that could be maintained as you were prepared to somewhat lose track of time too.

You let your eyes flutter shut and tilted your head, your tongue getting closer to his balls as you kept moving consistently. You put your hands to his thighs and you could feel him getting tenser against your tongue, the skin getting tighter.

You progressed until your mouth could reach his sac. You swirled your tongue around one of his balls, spreading your saliva even further. You swirled your tongue around the other and his hand returned to your head, appreciatively stroking your hair.

You pulled yourself back as an immediately enticing idea came to your mind. “Were you planning to wear shorts for the show, or…?”

It took him a moment to figure out how to respond, his brow furrowed. “Actually I haven’t properly decided yet. I picked a few different options and they’re at the, uh, venue already. But no, I don’t know for sure which I’ll wear. There is an option with shorts, but I really haven’t made my mind up yet. Why?”

“I’m feeling kinda into the idea of scratching your legs a bit.” You said, running your hands up-and-down his thighs. “Nothing too vicious, just something that would feel good for you.” He had started to smile. “And then you and me would have a sexy secret. Under your pants you would have some little kitty claw marks. It seems hot to me, but you-...”

“No, no, it is hot.” He rushed to tell you. “Do it, and I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You began to drag your nails up his bare skin, not trying to leave any marks yet, just wanting him to feel what you were prepared to use on him.

With nothing left to say, you wrapped your lips around his head. You slowly ran your fingernails up-and-down his legs. At the same time you moved your lips further down his length. You didn’t hesitate to take in as much of him as possible, rubbing your tongue on his underside as you took him deeper.

You kept your mouth set in place around him, a firm seal that could certainly get tighter. You heard his nonsense sputtering as you deeply inhaled through your nose.

Then you plunged down further, adrenaline pulsing through you as you took his head into your throat. You sucked your cheeks in, earning eager whines from him.

You had definitely stopped thinking about time, now you were just experiencing his pleasure through him. And you were planning how to unlock more of it. You treasured how his fingers stroked through your hair, to the sounds of his increasing moans.

You challenged your gag reflex for just a second. Then you eased yourself back, your nails truly scraping him in their continuous voyage now. You moved them a little faster up-and-down his thighs, copying the tempo you adopted to suck his cock with.

He twitched where he stood, his whimpers starting to coordinate with how you concluded each stroke with him hitting the back of your throat. You worked your lips back-and-forth, making sure he wasn’t far from your throat for long. His shaft was getting slicker, the movements coming so much easier.

You plunged yourself all the way down, getting him nestled into your throat. It contracted as you held him there. But you didn’t back off and you could feel how he throbbed in response. He was so hot and so heavy against your flattened tongue.

“I hope you don’t think that I’m not noticing how you’re trying to rush me.” He said, his fingers twisting around some of your strands of hair.

It was true that you weren’t giving him the kind of prolonged treatment that he may have been expecting. You didn’t typically take him into your throat so soon. You had bypassed the time you would dedicate to working him up.

“But your throat feels too good for me to care about correcting your behaviour.” He added, giving your pride a boost.

You tried to not move too vigorously, bobbing your head just a little, while keeping him mostly in your throat. You gave him some friction and he whimpered, clearly pleased by this small effort.

You held off from giving in to your need to draw a breath for as long as you could manage. But essentially it had to be done, you pulled back until your mouth was empty.

You let your hands still, holding onto his thighs as you gave all of your energy to refilling your lungs. You started to notice the details around you again. Your heart was racing and you recognised that his legs now bore some thin red lines.

“Oh, you’ve got so much drool on your chin now.” He said and you tilted your head back, giving him a better view of your face. You had been aware of the moisture building up on your chin before his comment. “Truly, it looks like it’s about to drip.”

You could have wiped some of it off with the back of your hand, or there was a box of tissues closeby. Instead you licked your lips.

“Oh, you like getting messy for Daddy, huh? You’ve made me all messy too.” He said. He put his hand to the back of your neck, the other wrapping around his wet cock. “I’m already leaking precum.”

On his tip you could see some thick and milky drops of his essence, begging to be used. And you couldn’t ignore it.

You put your mouth to his pink head, giving it a kiss and you were soon feeling the consistency of his cum on your lips. Then you parted them and took just his tip into your mouth. He held his shaft steady as you rubbed your tongue all over the tip, massaging as you cleaned him. The primal taste filled your mouth as you planned a couple of steps ahead how to draw more from him.

His fingers clasped harder on your neck as you continued to work your tongue.

“Babygirl, that’s so good. Clean me up just like that. Clean me up before we-...”

His explicit thought went unshared. The atmosphere in the room instantly changed in response to an authoritative knock on the door. He froze and you promptly yanked your lips off of him, your eyes looking over to the locked door.

“Hey guys, we’ve been trying to call you.” It was Belle’s voice, a member of the touring team. “The car is leaving for the venue in about five minutes. And we kinda need you to be in it. We could organise a second car, but…”

“We’ll be there.” Damiano called back, adopting the composed tone of voice he needed. “She’s just lacing her shoes up now and I wanna roll a smoke for the ride. We’ll meet you at the parking lot door in a few minutes. We won’t miss it, promise.”

“Okay. See you down there.” She sounded convinced.

His hand was still holding tight to the back of your neck, you thought it might keep you from getting to your feet. You grabbed one of the tissues, wiping your chin as you looked at your surroundings. Your thoughts were rushing as you tried to plan at least five steps ahead, trying to figure out how you could quickly get yourself ready.

“Okay, just put me back in your throat real quick.” He instructed and you could feel the subtle pull on your neck. “I’m super close, it’s only gonna take a couple of minutes.”

“What? Damiano, no.” You said firmly.

He let go of your neck, a slightly hurt look coming onto his face. “Really? ‘Cause I can feel how close I am.” You took the chance to stand up, gathering some of your makeup supplies as you went. “I’m sure that all I need is another minute in your throat, then I can nut and we’ll go.” You moved beyond his grasp, rushing over to where you had already packed your handbag. “I’m one hundred percent sure that it’ll take just one minute.”

You shoved your makeup and phone into the bag, swiftly progressing to snatching up the dress you had pre-selected to wear. “You need that minute to put some fucking clothes on.”

“They’re right here, I…” He collected the clothes he had been wearing when out for sound check. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, yes. I don’t wanna be late.” You said, shoving your feet into a pair of shoes. “I’m not letting that car leave without us.”

“It’s not gonna leave before…” He trailed off with a sigh. As you put a piece of gum in your mouth, you thought you had never been so pleased by the sight of him pulling clothes on. “I can’t believe that you’re really gonna make me put my aching cock and balls into these pants.” He covered his scratched legs with the faded denim. “Rather than just helping your daddy out.”

“You promised.” You said, wiping both your hands, chin, neck and chest with more tissues.

“Yeah, I did, but-”

“And I don’t need to hear your insider's secret about how a five minute warning actually means ten. We will have time later for me to absolutely drain your balls.” You said.

He finished getting dressed, putting shoes on and picking up a jacket. The weather meant that he didn’t need to wear it, instead he carried it in front of himself, disguising the bulge that his boner created in his pants. It was already less noticeable now and you were sure it would be gone by the time you got to the car.

Once in the elevator, you rushed to slather your lips in dark lipstick, hoping this would make you look more put together than you actually were. Then you raked your fingers through your hair, trying to get rid of its dishevelled appearance. You used the mirror mounted on the rear wall to guide you before you caught Damiano watching you in it.

“I’ll make it up to you.” You said.

“I know you will. I’m sorry that I got kinda pushy after your no.” He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You turned around but you weren’t entirely distracted by the doors sliding open now that you were at your destination. “I genuinely didn’t notice.”

You shouldered your bag and accepted his offered hand as you left the elevator. He walked with his head tilted slightly down, but no strangers bothered him as he led to the lesser-used exit.

You didn’t know exactly how long it had been since Belle had knocked on your door. But it had felt like it had taken a long time for you to get out of the room.

You were relieved by the sight of the van, with Belle lingering at its side. With two of the side doors remaining open, it didn’t look like it was on the verge of leaving the garage. You didn’t doubt that Damiano had a ‘told you so’ ready to share with you. But you didn’t look at him to give him the chance to say it, just getting into the van to find a seat.

He paused to provide an excuse to Belle. “She forgot to take her phone off silent after her nap, and I left mine in the bathroom. I’m sorry we missed your calls, we weren’t trying to.”

“It’s totally fine.”

You sat down on the right-hand side, leaving room next to Ethan for Damiano. In the row in front of you were Victoria and her girlfriend. You noticed amongst the other occupied seats that Thomas wasn’t present.

As soon as Damiano had sat down, you pushed your handbag into his lap, on top of the ‘just in case’ jacket. “You hold this while I do my eyeshadow.” You pulled out a palette and a brush.

Victoria turned around with a swish of blonde hair. “Are you still doing your makeup, how much did you oversleep?”

“Are you roasting my girlfriend right now?” He asked, protectively putting a hand on your knee.

But you understood where her words were coming from, and they had little to no effect on you. You were distracted by needing to come up with a cover story for you and your boyfriend. “Only ‘cause I’m always roasting myself. I could easily take four hours to do my makeup, and a professional could do the exact same thing on her in about forty minutes.”

“But you need time to break for cups of tea.” He said.

“I would never diss her, that’s my sister.” She said, it wasn’t the first time she had shared this sentiment.

You had looking into the palette’s mirror as an excuse to not make eye contact with the others as you began to deliver your lie. “I got distracted from finishing. We were watching other Black Eyed Peas music videos.”

“You still have that song stuck in your head?” Ethan asked Damiano.

“Yep, and thanks a million for that.” He said sarcastically.

“They have way more songs than I first realised.” Ethan said and you were pleased by how your cover story had given him a tangent that would distract from you entirely. Using your fingertips, you swiped a pink glitter pigment across each eyelid. “I thought they had that one really big era where they were literally everywhere. But they were everywhere for a long time.”

“Yeah, across multiple albums.” Damiano said as you were using a brush to buff out the sparkly pigment.

You heard Thomas’ pained yell before you saw him. The exaggerated shout got louder as he was running closer to the van. It broke up, becoming the word sorry over-and-over.

“I lost my lighter.” He offered the explanation as Belle shepherded him into the vehicle. “I thought it would take five seconds to find. But nope.”

He all but collapsed into an available seat. Belle and another member of the crew took their seats, then the driver was given the instruction to go.

Nobody brought their attention back to what you and Damiano had been doing in your room. You worked quickly to add a darker colour to the outer corner of your eyelid. You noticed that the jacket had shifted from his lap, but looking at the crotch of his pants you saw there was no hint of a suspicious bulge.

“Can I do Ethan’s makeup?” He asked you as the car navigated through Sydney’s traffic.

“Of course you can, darling.” You said.

*** *** ***

“Maybe you don’t actually need all of that time you give yourself to do your makeup. You had to rush it, but I think that you look very pretty, kitty.” Damiano said, coming over to stand with you now that he was free of the hands of people helping him get ready for the concert. He leaned against the same wall as you, focusing entirely on you, as if the rest of the green room (and the excited fans beyond it) didn’t exist. “You look great. I would even go so far as to say that you look delicious.”

You blushed under the intensity of his gaze. He hadn’t warmed up to it, just coming in with very flattering words straight away. It was more than you had been ready for, but it was exactly what you needed to hear. You hadn’t felt brave enough to try applying eyeliner to your upper lid in a moving car (the pauses from traffic definitely weren’t long enough, or predictable enough) and without it you hadn’t been feeling your prettiest. You felt like the look was incomplete, your makeup not bold enough.

But he thought your appearance was worth complimenting, something he wanted to stare at. Maybe doubting yourself had been a waste of time.

“Thank you.” You said, easily sliding your hand into his as you moved in closer. “And you as well: definitely delicious.”

He struck a playful pose at that - pushing his shoulders back and placing a hand daintily under his upturned chin. He pouted his lips a little, there was no denying that he had started to get into character for the stage. It was the lead-up to that part of the night where you had to share your boyfriend with the audience. It always impressed you how he could select which parts of himself to highlight, only bringing his most entertaining side forward.

And the audience was going to love him for it, because you loved him for it. This exaggerated, extroverted version of the man you lived with every day was still so sexy to you. You could feel the freedom as he left his doubts, insecurities and worries behind. The extra cheekiness was entertaining to you for the brief window of time that it existed.

“Serving delicious.” He said. “Look, somebody has to do it.”

You cupped his freshly-shaven cheek. “It must be such a burden.”

“It is.” He said, indulging in this dramatic display for a moment longer. “I’m not gonna lie to you kitty, it’s a big burden.” You laughed together, going back to normal. “Are you gonna have fun tonight, gonna behave yourself?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Are you going to behave yourself?”

“Of course, I will be working. I am a professional.” He said, seeming to be working to keep himself sounding as serious as possible.

Meanwhile, you had begun to smirk. “Yeah, a professional slut. I’ve seen how you work before.”

His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. This set you off giggling, feeling pleased with yourself.

Then his expression changed - his mouth forming a frown as he narrowed his eyes, going for an intimidating look as he leaned in closer. He stuck his pointer finger into the air between your faces. You had stopped laughing, but you continued to smile.

“You should be careful with what you say to me, babygirl. ‘Cause you’re already due for some of my payback after pulling the plug on that blowjob. Don’t make it worse for yourself.” He said in a lower voice than before.

You didn’t act worried because you didn’t feel it, despite the look in his eyes. You also didn’t feel any need to stop. So you put your lips up to his finger and once they were touching, you blew a raspberry.

You counted it as a victory when he groaned and yanked his finger away. He wore a displeased expression and he chose to wipe the moisture off on your dress.

“A-yo, Damiano.” Thomas called out, putting an instant pause on this stand-off. “You wanna run through the song? Make sure we’ve got it one hundred.”

“Yep.” Damiano yelled back. Before going over to the guitarist, he looked at you, giving you some stern parting words. “This isn’t over.”

He started to walk away and you chipperly sang out after him. “Okay.”

He kept going across the floor of this main room of the backstage area. He went over to the lounges where Thomas was sitting, an acoustic guitar propped in his lap. This was when Damiano started to appear truly professional.

You had no responsibilities to worry about, going over to the table where a generous spread of different foods had been laid out. You picked up a few of the crispy-looking spring rolls before going over to where the duo were practising, sheet music laid out before them. You perched yourself on the armrest of the sofa.

“Brig black boots…” Damiano sang before screwing his face up and Thomas stopped playing for the moment. “Wait, let me do that again.”

He adjusted his hands to their previous hold and played the same notes again. He and Damiano were tapping their toes to the same, unheard tempo - holding the music in their heads better than you could ever hope to.

Damiano waited for the right moment, giving the pre-chorus another try. “Blick black blu-... what?” Thomas patiently stopped playing again and Damiano leaned forward, getting a closer look at the lyrics. “It’s all those buh sounds real close together. I can’t wrap my fucking mouth around it.”

“You’ve got it, man.” Thomas said. “You did it last night, you know you’ll have it tonight.”

Damiano stared at the English words, saying them quietly to himself. “Big black boots, big black boots, big black boots…” He cleared his throat and looked up, trying to sing the words now. “Brick bla-... what?” You eased yourself off of the armrest, scooching in closer to him.

“You could sing that Black Eyed Peas song perfectly the whole drive in here.” Thomas said. “But these are the words that are tripping you up?”

You gently got Damiano’s attention by resting your hand on his knee. “I think the issue is that you’re thinking about the sounds of the original and you’re trying to recreate that when you’re singing. But what you should be singing are each of those words, separately, as their own topic.”

“That sounds right.” He said. “I’ve gotta get the words unmuddled in my mind.”

You picked up the paper. “Let me help. Okay, what are they?”

“Big black boots.” He said, the words not coming naturally as he tried to over enunciate every syllable.

“So, they’re small, right?” You asked, playing dumb.

“No, they’re big.” He corrected.

“Uh-huh, big flip-flop-kinda shoes, aren’t they?” You prompted.

“Boots, it’s a pair of big boots.”

“Oh. What colour were they again?”

“Black.”

“What are they?”

“Big black boots.” He said, he didn’t stumble over any of the words and he was sounding more conversational.

“I was picturing little pink shoes.” Thomas said, his hands poised in position to resume playing the song.

Damiano was smiling as he turned to him. “No, they’re definitely big black boots.”

“Huh, what are they?” You asked and Thomas played a single chord.

“Big black boots.” Damiano said.

Thomas played more chords, it sounded like the part of the song they had been practising earlier. “What are they?”

This time Damiano sang his response. “Big black boots, long brown hair…” He began tapping out the beat on your knee. “She’s so sweet with her-”

“-get-back stare.” Thomas joined in, continuing to play even as he returned to talking. “Keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Damiano said before transitioning faultlessly into the chorus. “Well I could see you home with me…”

As he continued to sing, you followed along on the page. He didn’t stumble nor did he need the page back from you, he was confident in preparing for the stage again. It was a relief to hear and you began to bob your head to the rhythm of Thomas’ guitar. Damiano wasn’t singing with the full power of his voice but you could hear how much more comfortable he sounded.

“Are you gonna be my girl?” He cut the last word off, not giving the note its full moment. “And so on.”

“That sounded great.” You said.

“Yeah, I don’t think we need to run it again.” Thomas said.

“Me either.”

Damiano leaned back against you, his head resting on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, hugging his body to yours as you enjoyed the sight of a smile on his face. You gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you, baby.” He said.

“She knows how your mind works, man. Good luck trying to outsmart her.” Thomas said, taking the guitar out of his lap. “But I wouldn’t exactly hold my breath waiting for the day when you outsmart someone.”

Damiano retaliated by kicking his leg out, striking Thomas’ shin with his foot. Thomas stood up, moving out of the range of possible other attacks. But he didn’t immediately walk away.

“Have you considered quitting your job so you can come with us on the road and be his emotional support person?” He asked, you weren’t sure how much he was kidding. “You know how to calm him down and help him prep for a show. He’s always in a better mood when you’re around, which is definitely none of my business.”

“He needs emotional support with how much you guys bully him.” You joked.

Thomas got distracted, looking around at the reliable backstage staff for guidance. “Do I have time for another Red Bull?”

Gianna was there, nodding after she checked her watch. “Yes and there’s plenty of it left.”

They walked away and you just got to enjoy the fact that this cuddle with your boyfriend wasn’t on the verge of ending.

But you couldn’t totally forget about what this room was so close to. “Do you ever worry when you’re sticking the microphone in people’s faces during Kool Kids that they’re gonna say something nasty?” He repositioned how he laid his head so he could look up at you. “Let’s not downplay that your horny rock attracts a horny audience. I’ve seen the kinds of signs that they bring to shows.”

He smiled as he didn’t disagree with you. “Well what could they say? They don’t get more than two seconds.”

“I don’t know. I just know that I won’t be surprised if one night fuck me gets sang, instead of the lyrics.” You said, making him laugh. “It’s the same amount of syllables.”

He gave your knee a pat. “Just ‘cause you can’t control yourself, babygirl.”

You rolled your eyes, a clever comeback failing to come to mind. “Do you want me to throw my bra at you? It could help you with getting into the right headspace for the gig.” You had never thrown items of clothing when attending any kind of concert. But you couldn’t say for sure that you wouldn’t get pulled into that type of fun, especially if the receiving performer played it up as much as Damiano did.

“Because I’ll do it.” You said, showing him how serious you could be.

He sat up so he could turn around and look at you properly. “I want to know what you would say. I’m on stage, I put the microphone in your face and you get two syllables- what are you gonna say?”

You didn’t already have something in mind. And thinking about it now, the answer didn’t immediately come to you. Because if you tried to picture yourself in his scenario all that you felt was intimidated. The nature of his onstage persona was very intimidating, for the duration of an entire concert. The man he embodied for a profession made you feel even more shy than you had at the start of your relationship.

Even the thought of being faced with that version of him was enough to make you blush and you answered him in a quiet voice. “Meow, meow. I would do the entire song as a kitten.”

He raised his eyebrows and laughed a little. “Oh really? And how might that go?”

You paused to look around, checking how close everyone else was. You were the only two sitting on the sofa, it didn’t seem like anyone was in listening distance.

You began your nonsense meow-singing softly. His smile grew and he rhythmically slapped his palm on his knee, providing you with the beat of his song.

You weren’t trying to sing well, your only goal was to sing quietly because you didn’t want anyone around you to hear. Judging by the look on his face, you thought he would probably enjoy it if you got louder. He loved it when you got proud about the fact that you were a kitten (his kitten). But what he loved even more was when you got embarrassed and started to squirm, showing nerves.

You were relieved when he didn’t try to get you into that state of vulnerability right now. You paused to take a breath and he applauded your effort, giving you the sign to stop - all without any of the other people backstage seeming to notice.

“Incredible.” He said. He put his hands on your cheeks so he could pull you in for a kiss. “That was so fucking great. Do you want to go out and do the whole set for me with those amazing meows?”

You gave his shoulder a playful shove. “No chance in Hell.”

“You’re so great. Well, when you’re behaving.” He said.

You could have tried to defend yourself that you only vexed him as a way to motivate him. It was done to inspire his punishments, which you both enjoyed. But this didn’t seem like the right time or place to get into that discussion.

He spoke to fill your silence. “When I go out on stage, I want you to go into my dressing room and stay there for the entire show.”

“What?” You asked, thinking about all of the socialising you were going to miss out on - the people that he worked with were far more interesting than the majority of your co-workers.

“Yep, you’re gonna keep the door shut and work on being the best behaved girl in the world, for as long as I’m gone.” He said, a stern look in his eyes as he stared you down.

You furrowed your brow, wondering how rude this would make you seem to everyone else. You liked when everything felt united among the band, team and travelling loved ones. You didn’t want to contribute to any form of division, that was important to you.

“Why?” You asked.

He leaned in and produced an invisible muzzle with his next sentence. “‘Cause Daddy says so.”

Your defiance was shattered in an instant because his approval was above and beyond more important for you than anything else.

*** *** ***

It was strange being this close to the concert without getting to experience much of it at all.

You had been looking forward to watching from the side of the stage. There was a lot to be seen from that vantage point and you liked comparing the things you noticed to what Damiano saw and remembered.

Instead you only had four unchanging walls to look at (eight if you counted the attached bathroom). The music was loud and powerful enough to rattle some of the fixtures, but it was a muffled listening experience. You needed the setlist taped to the makeup mirror to help you keep track of which song they were up to. You couldn’t distinguish any of the words when he was singing Are You Gonna Be My Girl. You had to trust the audience’s reaction that it had gone perfectly.

With nothing else to do, you mentally chewed over what he had said. While you didn’t agree that stopping the blowjob early was misbehaving (you still held to your reasoning that you had done it for his benefit). You did agree that your overall behaviour could be improved, you wanted to be the best girl for him, always.

After sharing a few messages with Max (you told her that you were certain her future husband lived on this continent), you sat down and got to a task just for Damiano. From his backpack, you had pulled out his tobacco pouch and supply of rolling papers.

One after another you packed and rolled cigarettes for him. Smoking had never turned into a habit for you - you were sooner to forget a cigarette lit for you than finish it. But you had seen Damiano roll so many that you could easily copy his steps. You knew exactly how he liked them, you could work to get them perfect for him.

Even though he wouldn’t be able to smoke any immediately (Australia’s laws were quite strict), it would save him some time. You thought (and hoped) that your unprompted providing of this convenience to help would win you some of his favour. It certainly seemed like the kind of thing a good girl would do.

It had been a little over an hour since he had left you for the stage, when you noticed a closeby speaking voice that distinguished itself from the murmurs of everyone else that had been going on for most of the show. You sat up straighter on the sofa, trying to pick out what Damiano was saying. Everything was underscored by Ethan and Thomas continuing to play, their instruments were still blasting out the outro of Kool Kids.

“-should be done in the bathroom in plenty of time, but give the door a good pounding when it’s about two minutes to the encore.” You could hear what Damiano was saying now, his voice definitely nearer to the other side of the door. “I can make that run back to the stage in less than two minutes, don’t you think?” He laughed and you saw the door-handle begin to move. “Thanks Belle.” 

You were starting to get up as he opened the door, coming into the room unaccompanied. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect.” He said, giving you no reason to doubt him. “I just need you to stand here with your back against the door.”

You completed the action without thinking to question it. You were too distracted by taking in the sight of him - alive with unpredictable energy, sweaty and without the shirt he had been wearing to begin the concert. You were expecting him to promptly disappear into the bathroom, taking some seconds of privacy before going back to give his all for the last two songs. You couldn’t think of any other reason why he would have needed to come in here.

But he wasn’t going for that door. He picked up one of the provided towels to dab himself down as he faced you, not grabbing for a drink or anything else laid out for his convenience.

“Everyone sang the right words for Kool Kids?” You asked, eyebrows raising as he brought his knees down to the floor. “Nobody got cheeky?”

“The only cheeky one is you.” He said and he flicked up the skirt of your dress, keeping it raised with one hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, surprised but not about to resist something so enticing.

“I’m going to see how good you can be at keeping to a time limit when it’s your pleasure at risk of interruption.” He said and he moved the crotch of your underwear to the side, just exposing your cunt instead of going to the bother of taking the lingerie down.

Your heart was racing now and you had forgotten to keep track of whether Thomas’ guitar solo was still going or not. “What?”

He dragged his fingers up your labia, his eyes switching between looking at your face and your cunt. “Yep, you’ve got about six minutes, kitty.” You moved your thighs apart as he continued to rub you, his hand delivering more pressure than you were used to in this early stage of teasing. “So, either you come right now, before Belle knocks on that door because they need me for the encore. Or you don’t get to come at all later.”

“Cazzo…” It was all that you could manage to say, because you knew that you didn’t want to tell him no. You didn’t know much else, your mind was in such a scramble as you struggled to catch up to him on this completely unexpected page.

He knew how to interpret your lack of no. And he adjusted his hand, poising his fingers then swiftly ramming them inside of you. Two at once - you couldn’t help squeezing your eyes shut, surrendering before you had been prepared to. He didn’t wait to start working his fingers within you and you tensely bit into your bottom lip, determined that no one would hear.

He attached his mouth to your clitoris and the pleasure rushed you like a wave, infusing adrenaline into your system. You grabbed for his short blonde hair, trying to help brace yourself. You may not have been ready for this, but there was no denying how spectacular it felt.

He was rushing you, as you had been accused of doing. But maybe it wasn’t rushing for him. It was sexy to think that he may have had this on his mind for some of the show. Had he been building this up as he sang for the audience? The way he had been acting since coming into the room seemed to support this theory, he simply couldn’t hold it back any longer.

You started to experience powerful twitches through your body as he curled his fingers between your walls. He was aiming for your sweet spot while his tongue tirelessly lapped at your clitoris, playing with all of the sensitivities here.

“Daddy…” You choked out, ready to lose yourself completely. “This can’t be payback. Because payback is a bitch, but this feels too damn good.”

His strong and confident thrusting came in at a relentless page. Your heart was thundering in your ears, making it next to impossible to notice anything else.

You hadn’t been trying to keep track of the time. But you were sure that you would hit that climax before he was whisked away. You weren’t worried about it not happening. With this aggressive campaign against your composure, your worry lie in disappointing him by coming too fast.

His lips left your clitoral hood in the interest of speaking, but there were still some strokes from his tongue to savour. “Did you get all worked up when you were sucking me off, toy? Did it make you wet? Did servicing me make you want to come?”

He wasn’t projecting his voice very much, willing to keep the secret the same as you. Underscoring his words were the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet excitement from your pussy as it accepted his fingers deep with each stroke.

He pushed his tongue against your clit before posing his next question. “Maybe you had been wishing that we were sixty-nine-ing so that you could enjoy my mouth as I was enjoying yours?”

The obvious answer that he wanted wasn’t clear in your dizzyingly aroused mind. So you just tried your best to please him. “We can, we can sixty-nine all fuckin’ night. I would love to do that for you, Master.”

“Mm-hmm.” He hummed against the hood of your clit, making your throat momentarily clench. “I bet you fuckin’ would.”

He plunged his fingers all the way into you and your knees felt like they were turning to useless jelly. This feeling only accelerated when he placed his other index finger to your clit. You fought back the cry that wanted to erupt out of your chest in response.

The way he manipulated the hood was driving you wild. It was bordering on more than you could handle as he sought out a new way to tease you with his lips on your thighs. He kissed and sucked both of your inner-thighs, alternating between them with unfailing vigour. 

His fingers pressing into your g-spot again-and-again was bringing the pleasure to a brilliant height. With it so ready to overwhelm you, it was easily blocking out your awareness of time passing. It felt like your entire body was reeling, keeping you from thinking or caring about anything. Maintaining the schedule of the gig wasn’t your responsibility right now, anyway.

He grabbed some of your thigh fat with his teeth then clenched his jaw. This made you squeak - he still had exciting surprises in store for you. You clasped a hand over your lips, now that you were so close to falling apart you truly didn’t trust yourself to keep quiet.

“Are you gonna come, babygirl?” He asked before he nipped and bit at your other thigh. “I don’t know if you’ve got much time left.”

“Mm-hmm.” You whined into the palm of your hand. “Close.”

“Aw, keen little kitten can’t wait to come, huh?”

You nodded, helplessly breathless as he kept biting all over your thigh.

Your excitement for the release drove you to start moving your hips. It was wonderful the way that every needy pump intensified his massage of your clitoris.

“You’re gonna write lines for me once I go.” He said. “You’ve got a pad and paper in your bag, right?” You nodded. “Good, that’s going to help you learn this lesson. You’re going to write it is my job to make Daddy cum. And you’re going to write it as many times as you can while I’m finishing the show. I will decide when we get back to the hotel if you’ve written enough or if you need to do more, okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” You whined, unwilling to open your mouth for even a second. You feared all of the loud noises that could escape if you did.

Your muscles all clenched and you gave an unintentional jerk into him. To the feeling of him dragging his teeth down your inner-thigh, you felt your orgasm dawning on you. You gave yourself over to the release at once.

He continued to stroke his fingers between your spasming walls, keeping you at this incredible height. The relief flooded through you as you grabbed his shoulder.

“Yes, that’s a good girl. You came nice and fast for me. I guess I won’t just be edging you until the sun comes up, huh?” He said, making you smile. He took his fingers out of you and ceased playing with your throbbing clit. “I think you’ve left me with enough time to give my hands a proper wash. Wow, great work.”

Not needing any time to recover like you, he immediately got up and went to the bathroom. You remained pressed to the door, not because he had told you to, but because you needed it to support you. You lowered yourself a little, your knees still unsteady.

“Holy fuck, Damiano.” You gasped, struggling to know how you would come down from this. You would need the two songs of the encore to remember how to act normally. “That was so much.”

He was wearing a smug smile as he came out of the bathroom. “But was it too much?”

“A bit.” You said, willing strength back into your legs.

“Do you remember what lines I want you to write?” He asked.

You readjusted your underwear and skirt. “Uh-huh. It is my-”

“Two minutes.” Belle’s voice accompanied her powerful knocks on the door. “Time to start running, my friend.”

He was immediately alerted, striding over and grabbing you by the biceps. He gave you a kiss as he moved you out of the way of the door. “See you in a second, love you.”

“I love you too.” You responded at once.

But you couldn’t be sure that he had heard it. Because as you spoke he had opened the door, letting the impatient roar of the audience come through louder. He disappeared in a flash, the door swinging shut behind him.

You loved the idea of lying down on the sofa and feeling the effects of your orgasm fade out to the sounds of I Wanna Be Your Slave.

But you resisted and kept yourself upright once you were on the lounge. You collected your handbag, unzipping it as you finally caught your breath. The little notebook that you kept on hand was in its usual pocket and you found a pen amongst the other items inside.

You started to write, feeling less frazzled with each line. You listened to this muffled version of The Loneliest, keeping your pen constantly moving.

*** *** ***

You were alone inside the hotel room for the moment. You covered more of the white pages in the sentence you had been told, without distraction while Damiano was out on the balcony. He was further winding down after the show with one of the cigarettes you had made for him.

But it wasn’t time to fade out of this day. This night was just starting and you didn’t know what he had planned for these free hours, just that it wasn’t going to include sleep for a while.

You set your intention for the hours ahead with every word that you wrote. It is my job to make Daddy cum. He had sent you straight to the desk as soon as you had gotten back to the suite, not giving you any time to change your clothes. While he had promptly stripped out of the sweaty outfit he had been wearing for hours, you were still in your dress, still in the underwear that he had made very wet.

You didn’t look up when you heard the door sliding open, you remained facing the wall. You gained the scent of his cigarette as he walked nearer. You heard the thud of him dropping his phone onto the sofa.

“It is still so warm out there. It’s the middle of the night and not even a single goosebump. It’s so great.” He said. “If we lived here I could just be naked all of the time.”

“Well that’s all the convincing I need.” You said, making him laugh.

He stood behind you, his hands going to the chair’s backrest as he leaned down. The temptation to look at him was strong, but you obediently kept writing. Rather than simply reading over your shoulder, he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“How are those lines coming along?” He asked.

-my job to make Daddy cum, you finished off another sentence. “I’ve done lots for you, would you like to see?”

“Yeah, let me see if you need to write more or not.” He said.

You flicked back to the page you had started on, then passed it over. He thanked you as he straightened up. It seemed like a good sign that this exercise was over when he asked you to sit with him at the bed.

But you weren’t to sit on the mattress with him. You sat on the floor by his feet, silently watching as he checked over your work. It wasn’t as simple as him flicking through the quantity of pages, he looked at every single one. You wondered if he was looking for errors, words scribbled over.

As he seemingly read, you let your eyes wander, checking his legs for signs of your scratches. You could pick out a couple of long lines that were red, it didn’t look like you had broken through any deeper than the top layer of skin. There were some shorter red lines that you had managed to leave behind too, scattered across the expanse of his thighs. They weren’t placed in a uniform way, testifying to the frenetic energy he brought out of you.

You compared these to the revenge he had inflicted on your thighs. The inside of each thigh was splotchy, not as bright as it had been in the immediate aftermath. But the random pink patches (each of them about half the size of your fist) that could be seen hinted that you could be wearing this damage for a while longer. His bites might leave you with bruising and you looked forward to repeatedly viewing them.

“It looks like you’ve learnt your lesson.” He said as his eyes moved down the final page, which you had gotten about three-quarters full.

You looked up at him, nodding, no longer feeling the need to express your conditions to challenge his rule. “I have.”

“I know that you were just trying to be responsible, and that’s a really great trait to have.” He said. “I don’t need you to change. But for right now I think you should make something else your responsibility…”

“Cock?”

“Cock, that’s right.” He said.

You changed how you were sitting, coming up a little higher as you moved onto your knees. “Do you want my mouth again? I can finish what I started.”

He caressed your cheek, the notebook now placed aside so all of his attention could go to you. “I’m sure that would be really fun, but what I feel like is fucking.”

“How would you like me, Master?” You asked.

“First things first: get naked for me.” He said and instantly you grabbed for the hem of your dress. “Then how about you take a seat on the edge of the bed?”

He stood up, keeping his eyes on you as you made quick work of finally getting out of your clothes. You left them on the floor, then sat in the same spot he had been occupying.

You parted your knees as he placed himself directly in front of you. In the light cast by the lamp, his eyes moved all over your body, paying attention to some features more than others. With your heart-rate keenly picking up speed, you realised that the only enraptured crowd you needed was right before you. His honest admiration didn’t leave you wanting more and it made you feel as special as if he was a stadium of cheering fans.

He leaned down, one of his hands going into your hair at the same time. His fingers dragged across your scalp as his lips got so close to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, and the next second, that very-welcome first kiss happened. There was no hint of haste, you could melt into this as there was a lovely absence of needing to be anywhere else, or to do anything else.

With no orders to keep your hands to yourself, you placed your arms around his neck. As you sought to deepen the embrace in this way, he started to ease his tongue into your mouth. Seeking synergy, it felt like you could leave the rest of the world behind.

He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, but he didn’t let this become his entire focus, drawing his tongue back towards himself before too long. He sucked on your lower lip before moving on from your lips.

You kept your eyes closed as he kissed his way down, his lips treating your chin and then neck. Your thoughts were getting quieter, less significant, until the only thing you cared about was submitting.

His hands were firm on your back as he pressed one kiss after another down the length of your neck. He wasn’t seeking to leave marks this time, appreciating across your bare skin without a hint of teeth. You ran your fingers through his hair, which was back to being soft to the touch.

The lower that he kissed, the more he eased his body weight into you and you started to recline. But you kept your arms around his neck, refusing to allow too much distance to come between your bodies - you were getting to be too needy to let that happen.

His hands discovered your sides next, stroking up-and-down with his fingers following your natural curves. Your eagerness had seen your nipples getting firmer, extremely ready for his mouth as he kept kissing his way lower. He used the tip of his tongue to draw a circle around your nipple before closing his mouth around it. Your gut clenched and you dragged your nails across his scalp.

When he transferred his mouth to the other nipple, he treated it to a suck. You couldn’t help whining, that irresistible heat spreading further under your skin.

“I don’t get to have you as an after-work treat often enough.” He said, keeping the pressure on your nipple with his fingers as he spoke. “Have I mentioned how much I love having you come on the tour?”

“I think you have said it, but you could show me how much you love it.” You said, keeping any bossiness out of your tone.

“Oh, I’m going to.” He said.

His mouth got occupied with your nipple again. More of his body weight eased into you, guiding you down until your back reached the mattress. He was on top of you partially, but you wanted more, the desires building higher as his tongue manipulated the stiff peak of your nipple.

He put his hands under your elevated knees and your thighs were spread even further apart. He moved in to fill this space, his hip bones pressing into the cushioning of your upper-thighs. He got close enough that you could feel how hard his cock had become as it rested against you. But he didn’t make any moves toward penetration, just rubbing himself on you as his lips kept playing with your nipple.

You grinded against him, unable to conjure any patience within yourself. He sucked hard on the nipple and you felt the excited aching in your cunt, so eager to be acted on.

“If you have any doubts about how much I love it- this kind of obsessed with it love…” He said, his shaft getting wetter on your labia majora. “I’m gonna fuck those doubts right out of your head.”

“Right now?” You asked, gripping the back of his neck hard enough for the nails to press in.

“Uh-huh.”

You tilted your hips, expecting penetration. But this continued to not happen, just more grinding that you knew could not get you the relief that you needed. Inside you, the tension coiled and it was impossible to think of anything but this need. There was nothing you could mentally reach for that could help you calm down.

You knew that he would disapprove of you trying to fill your cunt of your own accord. And you were trying to prove to him that you didn’t need any further punishing tonight. So you just moaned through the continuing of this activity that was starting to feel as taunting as it was pleasurable.

He transferred his mouth to your other nipple and you felt the nerve-endings giddy response to his manipulations. It earned a louder wordless plea from you.

This sound extended out when you felt your pussy lips finally being pushed apart by the head of his cock. Your heart leapt into your throat, you were so thrilled to be progressing to the point of feeling your cunt filled.

His mouth remained on your nipple as he started to settle inside of you. He kept massaging his tongue against it, providing a distraction as you adjusted to the new way he was lying on top of you.

He parted from the sensitive bud when the need for air got too great. He gasped and straightened up, his concentration going to fitting more of himself into you. Your cunt had started to throb, all of the pressure in your body needing somewhere to go.

“What’s your job?” He asked, measured rocking of his hips allowing him to gently move in deeper.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, steadying yourself so you could meet his gaze. “Making Daddy come.”

“And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, right?” He asked.

“Fuck yes.” You immediately replied.

He got about three-quarters of his length into you, but didn’t instantly follow through with the remaining inches. Instead he started to experiment with the current depth, stroking his bare cock inside of you.

He moved himself back-and-forth, establishing a maintainable tempo. You joined him as soon as you could, matching him without trying to rush ahead of him. Your excitement being acted upon was an improvement that you thought could help with your patience. It was enough to just feel yourself building towards the orgasm.

His consistency led him into moving quicker and you stuck with him, unbothered by your recovery time lessening. You were rewarded with accelerating sensitivities, tingles carried out through more of your body.

The increase of his pacing had you gripping the bed-sheets, a tremble in your hands as your breath got quicker. His eyes rushed up-and-down your body, gaining inspiration for his hips swinging - while unable to land on one definite point of interest.

He plunged in the deepest yet, with his next pound forward accompanied by him leaning down. His lips met yours as you rubbed your body against him, celebrating this proximity. You wrapped your arms around him, your hands grasping in a greedy manner.

He worked at this new angle and the pressure it brought to your clitoris made you want to melt. Waves of pleasure surged through the sensitive hood, reaching down into your receptive core. This made your walls respond to his stroking more, the fluttering getting to be constant, and more powerful.

“Squeeze it just like that.” He coached. “Squeeze it on me like you were squeezing my fingers earlier.”

You drew in a breath and made a conscious effort to clench. At the same time your legs gripped his hips tighter. You tensed around him, feeling something truly big still swelling in the deepest part of you.

“Yes.” He told you in a strained voice as he began to jackhammer faster into you. “Yes. Does that make you feel like coming?”

“Yes.” You said with a choked sob, as sticking with his pacing started to take more effort.

“Not yet.” He warned. “Daddy gets to come first, okay? That’s what’s fair.”

“Uh-huh.”

He surged that final amount of his shaft into you, his hips crashing against your body. He barely pulled back before pounding forward again.

This signalled him moving into a faster and more reckless tempo. No time was given to recovering and you could feel the tension inside you starting to fray. How much longer could you fight back getting totally overwhelmed?

He was powering through to his climax, the textured walls of your cunt starting to get coated. He was ready to unload into you. He rested his face in the curve of your neck, kissing between gasps for air.

It was a challenge to keep up with his jackhammering, your body writhing in response to his recklessness.

“Fuck, kitty.” He whined, his hips stuttering to keep him buried the whole way in.

As you were poised on that edge, he plummeted off of it. He was shivering through his climax, pressed into you as his cum unleashed. You held him, not expecting much activity right now.

As his energy stalled momentarily, you stopped the conscious effort of clenching your pussy to him. But that didn’t mean your inner-walls stopped fluttering or otherwise reacting to his continuing penetration. There were still so many sensitivities housed in this area, so you bided your time until they could return to centre stage.

You held your arms around him. Even though you desired nothing more than to make use of the electricity pumping through your system, you bullied yourself into not moving. He was to set the lead, so you just listened to the way he was steadily catching his breath.

“That’s how a good girl does her job.” He said, allowing you to see his face again as he lifted his head.

You licked your lips, expecting an imminent kiss. But he moved too far away, suddenly deciding to stand up again.

His cock remained hugged by your pussy, sliding in deeper as he planted his feet on the ground. You watched him resuming this position as your whole body ached for release. You wondered how he would give it to you, the need sat on your chest like an almost-real weight.

He picked up one of your legs again, his other hand going to your hip. It was a measured and steady plunge that he made into your pussy. He didn’t rush into any kind of pace, instead concentrating on long strokes that could deliver him to your sweet spot.

“I gotta make sure that cum is in nice and deep.” He said. His movements were coming in more consistently now, establishing a thorough but unhurried tempo.

“Uh-huh.” You were still mostly breathless as you responded. Your heart racing and your nerves remaining so tense because that dominating hunger kept you from settling.

He started to raise your leg up higher, lifting until it could be draped over his shoulder. This provided him with an extra ease of movement, his cock gliding to new angles in your slicked cunt. But it didn’t inspire him to go faster, instead he remained fixated on stroking his entire length back-and-forth.

His slow motions were giving you time to recover, which wasn’t what you had been hoping for. The cooling down of intensity was leading you to thinking, coherent thoughts starting to form, even though you deemed them to be unnecessary.

It occurred to you that the orgasm was further away than it had felt before (reality would start to creep back in, demanding acknowledgement soon). You kept moving with him, even though these swings of your hips didn’t seem to be getting you closer to your orgasm, you were still enjoying the sensations allowed to you. This felt better than lying still would - you were certain of this.

Not wanting the fire to be dulled any further, you tried to increase your own speed. You didn’t care to match him as you pulled your hips back. Regardless of how he was moving, you quickly jolted yourself forward, claiming a brief glimpse of the friction you desired.

He maintained control over his movements - either he didn’t notice your rhythm, or he was entirely uninterested in it. He stayed at his own speed, enjoying the thorough follow-through of each stroke.

You worked yourself up to a tempo that felt better than what he was currently providing you with. You arched your back as your needy pumps came in consistently.

You didn’t need him to match you to get you back up to that energising peak of sensitivities. But you couldn’t ignore how the collisions weren’t hitting as deep as you needed. Even as you worked in promising motions, you knew that something essential was missing.

“Daddy.” You whined, letting him hear how desperate you were. “You said that you wouldn’t have to edge me all fucking night. Wasn’t that the deal?”

He paused, going entirely motionless as if he needed a moment to consider this. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to edge you. I was just taking a little extra time to enjoy your pussy.” You could have cussed him out, slapping a hand over your eyes. “Are you ready to come? I didn’t know, you’re actually being so subtle.”

You let the frustration dominate you for a moment. More swears came to mind as you curled your hands into fists around sections of the bed-sheet.

You tried to decipher what he wanted from what he had said. You put your last ounces of logic into the effort.

“Please. Please let me come.” You said, locking eyes with him as you resumed your earlier speed. “Please Master, please, please!”

It got more exciting when he began to match your rhythm. As he met each of your energetic fucks, you were finally treated to those sensations that rocked you down to the core of your being. You strengthened your actions as you tightly wrapped a leg around his waist. This may have been more control than what he wanted to hand over, so you made sure to keep begging.

You didn’t have to hold anything back as you recklessly chased that climax. You went totally wild, rocking with all of your power because you were unbothered by the possibility of being exhausted in the aftermath of this.

“Yes, give it to me just like that, please. Please.” Your voice got louder as you could feel the orgasm coming back within reach. “Please give it to me.”

Your leg slipped from his shoulder as he rocked forward, more of his body covering yours. He grabbed fistfuls of the bed-sheet to help brace himself through the last moments of frenzied pounding.

When your climax finally arrived, it was so vastly different to what you had experienced in the dressing room. Immediately you handed your entire body over to it, crying out as your cunt spasmed through the accomplishment.

Suddenly it got even hotter between your receptive walls. To the sounds of his moans competing with yours, his cock unloaded into you for the second time.

“Oh, my perfect toy…” He gasped, releasing the sheet so he could caress your sides.

You fell out of the tempo quickly, making a fast transition from dazzled to devastated. With absolutely nothing else to give, you started to lower your body down to the mattress. It felt like sleep wasn’t too far off.

After pulling out, he gave you some more kisses, none of them lingering as they had earlier tonight. Then he climbed off of you, seeking his own comfortable spot on the mattress.

“There’s another continent we’ve stained some sheets in. We can tick it off the list.” He joked.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[ctrldoll]

Memories, POOF! (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

Geto Suguru / F! Reader

TW: Obsession (Implications) -Geto Suguru- -Gojo Satoru-, Dementia & Suggestiveness.

This work is a part of the [✮𖦹] PINK BOMB! series!

Can anyone tell that I've been going through a writing block? This was in the writing process on August! ( ��△｀)

PEACE AND BLESSINGS TO YOU, MY LOVE! <3

THE cold wind hit you, relieving your body as you walked underneath the scorching sun. Your eyes shut for a moment, causing a chuckle sideways from you. You turned to find plum eyes gazing into your own, gleaming at yours, looking into them.

“What’s so funny, Suguru?” You asked, fanning yourself, and tilted your sunhat to look at him. “This sun’s terrible right now, isn't it?” He asked, tucking his hands into his blue hibiscus-printed shorts. He wore a light matching shirt with a vest and white sports shoes. 

“Yeah, it is. Although I can’t help but be grateful that it lets me see you like this.” You flirt with a chuckle, walking further to hide your fluster. Geto brightened red, smiling as he watched your white sundress with small pink flowers flow in the wind. “Geto, don’t keep me waiting! I’ve got goods to buy!”

You held the shimmering top of the gloss as you scanned through it, deciding if it was a worthy purchase or not. The object shone underneath the light, alluring you to it as its inner glow brightened underneath your warm fingertips. “Hmm…you win.” You whispered cheerfully and placed it in the pink basket you held. 

“Doll, you’re trying something new. I’m proud of you.” Geto teased, and you rolled your eyes. “This lip gloss just came out. It’s even cuter in person compared to the YouTube ads!” You gushed, slightly shaking the basket as you giggled against the warm body of your lover. He wrapped his arm around you, steadying you in front of him.

“I love seeing you like this. You’re so cheerful.” Geto says, smiling softly as he explores your face with sight as though searching. “You make me like this. I love being around you, Suguru.” You responded, admiring the way the pink fluorescent lights tainted his warm cheek as you held it.

“Come on, Doll. There's a doll I know you'd like nearby.”

౨ৎ

Geto seemed different ever since Riko. He seemed low, his gaze staring into the distance as though lost. Whenever you caught his gaze on you, you couldn't decipher what he was thinking. 

He'd shrug off whatever questions you posed towards his new behaviour with a mere ‘I’m alright' or ‘It’s fine’. His laughs seemed robotic now, as though pre-planned and short, lacking his authenticity.

His arm in the night wrapped around your waist, his hold tighter than you remember. His eyes were shut, although you knew at the slightest shuffling they'd wake up alerted and searching.

“Bye, Suguru. Please arrive back safe.” You embraced him tightly at the train station that day. Alarms blared in your head that day, and an onslaught of nerves occupied you throughout. Something was oncoming.

౨ৎ

“What?” Your eyes shut tight at the light that hit your eyes through the thin crack of the window of the room. You looked around, noticing how different everything looked, and shot out of the bed, alert.

You tried activating your technique only for flashes of pain to run down your body. Your eyes shut tight as a painful groan emitted from your lips. 

Your eyes then moved towards the cursed silver chains occupying your hands, preventing you from moving to the white door in the corner. Looking around, you found remnants of you around it. 

The walls were painted white, pink bows, and stars added to the wall in the area, highlighting the achievements and photos you kept in your home. A net was placed in a hammock position on the wall, plushies of yours comfy among each other. 

The shelves weren't any different, as the vintage design blended in with your dolls. You swore that some of the designs only resided on your Amazon wishlist, but there they were.

Click. Your heartbeat thumped fast, and your head snapped to the door. You recognised his studs and silky hair the moment he walked in. 

“[Name], you're finally awake.” Geto smiled, walking up to you, unbothered by your situation.

“What am I doing here?” You asked, puzzled at his normality. Your eyes crinkled into a glare when you realised that he must have had something to do with it. 

“This is your new home, [Name]. With me.” Suguru remained undisturbed, moving near your dishevelled form. 

“Ack!” You yelled under the torment of the chains as you pushed forward to him, your curse broken when activated. “You don't need to be frightened, [Name]. You're safe with me.” 

His gaze offered no comfort. A shadow of his former self flickered as he gazed at you, but you could tell that your lover was no more. 

“Why?” You asked, tears at the edge of your eyes as you knew that you were cornered. No more would you see your loved ones, embrace the outside, or the simple moments provided in your previous life.

“My values don't align with those of the Jujutsu world anymore. Why should we have to defend such ungrateful things? We face the turmoil for filth, which will never appreciate it. For mere monkeys? We deserve much better, [Name]. Geto sighed at your compliance with the system, your tears aching him. 

 He kneeled down to your level, and you felt the chains reel back your hands as his hand drew to your face. “Oh, don't cry. This is for your own good. You’ll see, my doll.” Drops of your tears pour onto his soft, pale fingers as he caresses you, his touch cold and calculated. He loved you no more but was obsessed.

౨ৎ

The time went by slowly; little by little, your sanity seeped into nothingness. After a frantic stab on Geto’s hip with a broken piece of a white vase you knocked to the ground after you toppled away from him, he snapped. 

The trickle of blood staining his gold kāṣāya and blending with the black of the yukata was all but what you could pay attention to as his hands roughly held your lips open as you remained still, helpless against the bounds that held you. You had no reminder of the vile taste of the murky, grey curse as it was forcefully shoved into your throat, demanding it be consumed. 

“You've left me with no choice. You shouldn't have been so stubborn.” The ball struggled not to clog up in your throat as Suguru’s thick fingers shoved it in. You swallowed it in a desperate attempt for relief; it lasted a second before you despaired as your vision blurred. You toppled over, feeling the cold white tile on your cheek as the room darkened. 

Guilt flashed for a moment in Geto’s conscience while he watched your withering form, face crinkled in pain as the filth began to consume you. He lifted your body into his arms and walked to your bed. He felt the remnants of the curse in you and swore to himself, wishing that there was a better way to get you to comply with his will. 

౨ৎ

“Who are you?” Your voice whispered in the dark of night as you sipped on a cup of tea, looking at the dark-haired man across you. Your head felt empty, remnants of something lingering but blocked. You couldn’t identify why you felt so—just that it was there. “I’m your lover. I’ll help you regain your memories, doll.” Your heart buzzed at his voice when he said, ‘Doll.’ It filled you with warmth yet dread lingered in the air.

౨ৎ

Geto, after a while, even if he was reluctant to let you out, he led you to the garden of his small escape, where you met Mimiko and Nanaba, the twins. You shuffled in the grass as you observed them beside Suguru. Nanaba seemed shy when you sat down next to them, while Mimiko was excited to finally meet you. “You seem nice.” Nanaba whispered, admiring your embroidered attire. “Suguru has told us much about you.” Mimiko held in her joy, aware of your sensitive state as Geto informed them both of it beforehand. “I hope we’ll be good friends.” You said, pleased at their smiles. 

You looked at Suguru, laying your head on his shoulders as you held his hand, seeing what made him so proud of the girls while they played underneath the hot summer sun. “It's great that you took them in.” You smiled at the sight of them as they chased each other.

“They're amazing, aren't they? I love them.” He whispered in your ear with wistful eyes on them. You shivered slightly at the warmth of his breath and hoped he didn't notice it. He shot a sly smile, having seen, and tightened his hold on your waist. “Surely you aren't so easy to fluster? It was a bad idea to show me that; it'll be too tempting not to take advantage of it.”

౨ৎ

“Ugh.” Geto's injuries flared all over his body while his brain kept sending constant warnings for him to do something, anything. A cacophony of miseries as he grasped his final moments, looking up at the striking blue eyes and white hair of the man who struggled to break down in front of him despite his demeanour. 

“This must thrill you, Satoru.” He teased with the smirk he could barely afford as his head began to spin, the process of being unable to distinguish anything beginning.

“I knew how you looked at her. Her smiles, her laughter, her grace—you wished you were the one close enough to experience them all, weren’t you? How desperate you were to touch her. Satoru, you’re not the slick bastard you think you are. I’m not surprised that you’re perverted. She has that affect on us.” Suguru chuckled at the shame that contoured Satoru’s face as his breathing heightened and his eyes widened while his face flushed red.

“I wrote notes of every single curse I had. You have to know what you’re eating.” A poor attempt at a chuckle slipped from his lips as his eyes rolled back before he forced himself to stay awake. “The memory loss one, too. It’s a favourite of mine for obvious reasons.” Suguru rolled his eyes at the guilt that clouded his mind for a slight moment. “I wrote everything I could on it. How to activate it, how to deactivate it, how to reset it... and so on and so forth.” Suguru could have let out a hearty laugh as realisation crossed Satoru, then the anger that crinkled his face if he wasn't so weak. “You think I’d do that to her?! I’m not like you!” Satoru barked at the exhausted being, who rolled his eyes and sighed. “There’s no need to compare, Satoru. I know you will.” 

“By the way, be sure to buy her a Sonny Angel. She’s building a collection.”

౨ৎ

Satoru loved to think he was a man much stronger than his desires, that all the training he had done made him above all in a sense. It was true that he was the strongest of all sorcerers, that all the hits taken on him as opponents tried to reach his level brought him to this point aside from his biological advantages.

But, to him, in this moment, he was the weakest of all as he watched your pretty eyes look right back at him, your strawberry plush in your arms and favourite drink on hand as you adjusted to the large living room in his home. 

“Who are you?” 

Satoru hoped the blur of Suguru’s form reflecting on the floor-to-roof windows was a mere figment of his imagination. The smirk it made burned his iris alongside your lost eyes. He blinked, and it disappeared.

“I’m your lover, darling. I’ll help you regain your memories.”

[rubiatinctorum]

whenever i see 2020s-style '2000s' VHS tape aesthetics i feel like i'm not quite the right age to be nostalgic or especially anemoic for them. i grew up with them and then stopped using them when the VCR broke, so it was easier to use DVDs because the DVD player worked. They never ever felt vaporwave to me. They never felt Y2K. They were a thing that I used until I didn't anymore. I feel nostalgic when I see VHS tapes being used through the visual signifiers of reality, and when I see the ones that I personally used. But, as prevalent online as the simulacrum of VHS and early 2000s nostalgia/anemoia as represented by a pink wash and TV lines and vaporwave 2 and chromatic aberration is, I kind of just find it annoying, because the 2000s didn't look like that to me. The thing about 2000s technology I encountered in real life was that it either looked bright and futuristic in that vivid plastic way (think something you'd see in a Future Shop flyer or a TV ad, or like the pink CRT television I had), or it looked beige and crusty and old as hell (the computers, speakers, keyboards, and mice your school and family members had. there were still balls in the mice for god's sake). Sometimes i can't tell if the people making things themed with the simulacrum version are old enough to remember but know their young market will eat this shit up, or if they genuinely weren't alive in the early 2000s or maybe any of the 2000s at all to know that it didn't look like a few glitchy tiktok filters. Personally, for 2000s technology aesthetics, I'd like to see people lean more into that 'futuristic' brightness or the older more neutral-toned and boxy tech models, or if we want to try something different, the aesthetics of early digital camera photography. in another timeline flash-induced high contrast and red eyes in photographs became the symbol of soooo vintage and popular. but as long as people condense the early 2000s into this far off distant liminal space where the world exists only in cool-toned pastels and everyone's every VHS has bad degradation, i just really don't think that's going to happen :P

(as a slight digression on that photography note, but at least the vintage-themed insta filters of the 2010s sometimes tried to replicate the lighting and saturation or lack-thereof of vintage photography, a medium that actually would have looked somewhat like that at the time because of how photos were developed. on the other hand, if your VHS tape in the 2000s looked like these faux-VHS rental aesthetic filters do, there was probably something wrong with it. The difference between approaching the past with the quirks of the mediums of the past as they'd usually occur — red eyes in early digital cameras, for example, which would be on the photo from the moment it was taken and was extremely common — and approaching the past with the defects of the same technology 20 years on — like VHS tape degradation that shouldn't be on a tape fresh out of the case in the 2000s — is the difference between approaching the past as it was and approaching the past as The Past.)

i think aesthetically approaching most decades from the lens of it being in the past is going to create an aesthetic that operates with the assumption that it always was the past. what most faux-nostalgic aesthetics that don't replicate the mediums of the time but instead dial them up to 11 and then slap a bunch of filters on miss is that each new decade is the present leaning into the future, in the time that decade is current. if you approach the new millennium aesthetically by taking an image and adding generic instagram or tiktok digital-vintage filters over it to show how vintage it was and always has been, you miss a lot of what made much of the decade, especially the early part, what it was.

[chris-continues]

College AU Vash headcanon’s

Vash Saverem <3

-he can swallow multiple pills at once. Wolfwood thinks it’s freaky (it’s the result of Vash having to have multiple medications due to his health conditions). He used to be super freaked out about it but went “fuck it we ball” and tried it. Nai was worried he’d choke.

-Vash hugs a pillow to sleep (soon to be you heheh)

-He has StarWars posters in his room

-he’s been saving up for a Lego Death Star but ends up blowing his savings on smth like donuts (AUDHD impulsiveness). Nai has been wanting to get it for him but doesn’t have the money and figures him learning more financial literacy doesn’t hurt. But he still doesn’t want Vash to go without :( (he loves his brother very much. They’re happy.)

-He has Nai shave his hair like once a month because it grows fast and too long for his liking, so Nai fixes up his undercut while Vash rants about something that’s caught his eye, like how his DND campaign with Wolfwood is going or how a professor has been. (Or.. you).

-He likes the feel of fingerless gloves and owns a few fun pairs. And he has kandi bracelets he likes to fidget with. He lowk wants to be scene but doesn’t really know where to start, so he just has a few small little things he adds onto outfits that give a scene vibe

-Whenever having neutrals, I believe Vash would flock to denim or khaki for a base, giving his clothes more life. The darker clothes he has are sweaters Nai thrifted for him that uphold well in winter. I do believe he’d flock towards a more “vintage” style and would like a 70’s vibe w/ cuffed jeans, but would like more contemporary things added in, like chunky sneakers. He likes a fun silhouette with baggy pants. Also he enjoys patterned button ups + colorful 90’s typa windbreakers and bomber jackets and loves thrifting them even tho Nai says he has plenty (it’s never enough)

(Photos for reference)

-He loves taking craft paint and doing cool little doodles or patterns onto his clothes (when he has time of course) he got Nai into painting/bleaching clothes (since Nai is secretly goth)

-Vash likes movies like Back to the Future, something comforting and easy to watch.

-He loves fun patterned socks- whenever he goes to like a museum gift shop he gets cute socks. Like Coca Cola labeled socks or something with a fun pattern. Speaking of which, he sometimes mismatch’s socks and it drives Nai insane

-He likes street food a lot. Like corn dogs, pretzels; etc. I think he avidly enjoys going to food trucks and eating at a picnic table with friends.

-His vocal stims consist of quotes from StarWars and listening to documentaries on something like: “How 3D printers work”

-He likes video essays on random stuff on YouTube (look at last HC)

[bloodybabytee]

Night was warm but cold 

While I was writing some stupid think-piece about my issues again I took a break to sit in the unresolved tension, it’s crazy how exhausted one can feel writing and talking about the bad parts. I think the silence of the podcast I was listening to being unceremoniously paused by TikTok got to me, so I needed to write, which made it worse. This time, I'll talk about one of my favorite nights this semester. Less about myself, more about the people around me.  

This night I tried foundation and concealer for the first time, I was trying to emulate goth makeup in my own funny way, and I will say I looked great that night (it was also the first night with my new eyebrow and navel piercings, though my navel was covered and had a plaster on it to avoid the risk). The pres was in a new place this time, some drama caused some changes in plans, so this pres was quite small and I think it worked better that way. The massive walls (one of my friends seriously lucked out on the amount of space, not so much on the price though) temporarily housed people there was no ambiguity with, it was simple emotionally and physically. Two of my close friends were there to keep me company through smoke breaks and gab sessions about makeup and clothes, two topics, and people, I love dearly. Complimenting each other's outfits, one of my friends played dress-up with the other, they looked cute, the method of madness was charming. Along with being totally jealous of the piece they got at a vintage thrift event. Two drinks in and I'm spinning, literally, I find it just to take up the left space in the large room, it makes it feel less empty. 

At some point another one of my friends, my new housemate, offered to make me a playlist, trying to kickstart my riot grrrl era, as an alternative person I personally struggle to comfort myself with a clear label without just landing on ‘poser’ since I don’t listen to much of the music, that’s the toxic parts of alternative culture getting to me. It makes me happy I met a group of people who are the real deal, they don’t give a shit about the label, and it makes them even cooler, at least in my opinion. The playlist was short, but I found I was already friends with my housemate on Spotify, so I found it quickly, it reminded me that I can exist in people’s mind even without being there, it’s grounding in a way, the sort of thing that strengthens the bond along with reinforcing my will to leave a lasting impression, like I'm burned into the wall behind me. As I started writing this, one of the songs I saved from the playlist ‘Let’s Make Out – Dream Wife’ started playing, serendipitous I suppose? Riot grrrl music is kind of a good way to describe me, I felt seen with the observation, of course it’s not all-encompassing, but I'll take it. I’ve never been afraid to properly experiment with my style, and it changes every minute, I go full force - I think that’s why I succeed stylistically, my visual polish is what makes me stand out. 

At some point, I'm not sure if it was my idea or my friends, we decided to take pictures of our pretty outfits and makeup, I'm best known by how many pictures I take of myself so I was trusted to find the lighting and angle. After a quick test shot, we found the lighting and the pictures were exquisite, if I do say so myself. Eventually everyone present got in on the photos and they’re some of my favourite photos ever, my friends are around me and we look amazing. We looked like a coven of witches and I love the idea of it, cackling and plotting the next major outing with a group of people I could call family. 5-minute color grading and some live photo adjusting later, they were ready to be sent, posted, plastered on the wall, the way I look my best.  

After the pres we of course left for the event itself, I would describe the chain of events there but they’re not all that memorable, though I did talk to some other friends I don’t have many conversations, we talked about piercings, taking photos, and other fun things (I promise I do think about other, non-vein, things) and met some chill people who were new to the uni, but other than that there wasn’t anything that stuck out . . . ok, fine, I'll talk about another small event during the night I enjoyed. 

During one of my long stints outside, talking, smoking, drinking, whatever, there was a playfight in the group and I was the designated meat shield, it doesn’t sound very fun, but I appreciated the inclusion during the whole thing, plus it wasn’t like I was going to get hurt anyways- there was one point where someone fake-swung an umbrella and I squealed, hey, I've never been a violent person, I like to think I wasn’t raised by wolves. I think it was funny. 

Thanks for reading this small recap of one of the best nights this semester, this hasn’t been proofread or edited that much, only me this time. It was cold outside, sure, but the warmth of being in someone’s thoughts like that was all I needed, plus a hoe never gets cold. 

[exoluxionlove]

230622 Seoul Subway & Travels As Seen Through the Eyes of SUHO

Many cities around the world have their own metro systems, but the one in Seoul is exceptional. The subway system in Seoul is the most tourist-friendly means of transportation. The Seoul Metropolitan Subway system, which helps tourists save time and energy, will be explored in the company of SUHO, the leader of boy band favorite, EXO.

SUHO, known for his meticulous planning, has curated a special travel course called the SUHO Line for those exploring Seoul. The SUHO Line encompasses various popular destinations in Seoul that SUHO frequents or aspires to visit, all easily accessible via the subway system. Before revealing the SUHO Line, let’s learn more about his typical day in Seoul and what he loves to do in this city.

Q. Where have you traveled to lately?

A. I went to the States for work a few days last year. I was there for about five days after shooting a TV show. I also went to Australia to shoot Besties in Wonderland.

* SUHO gave a presentation at the Korean Studies conference at Stanford University.

Q. Before we get started, what’s your MBTI personality type?

A. I'm ENFJ. I'm extroverted, and I like meeting people. And I love planning (laughter). I like talking to strangers, too. I’m a typical ENFJ.

Q. What are your latest hobbies or interests?

A. I really got into wines about two years ago. I don’t drink wine to get drunk. I guess I'm more of an avid learner. I try to write tasting notes whenever I drink wine, and I like to find new wines that I have never tried before. I'm still learning a lot about wines and enjoy drinking at places with a great atmosphere.

Q. It seems you like to experience new things.

A. I love discovering and learning new things. That’s why I got into wine. Oh, the weather has warmed up now. So, I promised Kai I’d go on a bike ride at Hangang Park soon.

Q. Do you like being active?

A. Yes, I like to stay active. But I'm not really into vigorous sports. I like roaming around to experience things myself.

Q. If you’re into wine, do you sometimes drink alone?

A. I rarely drink by myself. Instead, I watch YouTube videos on wine. Sometimes, I find some wines that look interesting in some of the videos. Then, I try to find places where I can taste those wines. I don’t tend to drink alone, so I call my friends to come and drink with me.

Q. You’re particularly known for the "J" of your MBTI type. To what extent do you plan ahead?

A. I mostly use Instagram to communicate with my fans and post images to become my photo diary later. I pick a few places I’d like to visit whenever I travel. Then, I search hashtags related to those places and see so many pictures uploaded by others. I capture some images that I think have good composition, and I pick the outfit I will wear when I go there. That’s how much I plan ahead (laughter).

Q. Is there a favorite shop of yours?

A. I usually shop online, or I go to select shops in Cheongdam-dong. I want to try out some of the vintage shops as well. I want to visit the vintage shop, Opal, that Chan-hyuk visited on the show, I Live Alone. I’ll pay a visit one day.

Q. Which one do you prefer more, dining or street bar?

A. It depends on my mood, but I prefer street bars when I’m in Korea.

Q. Would you visit street bars when you’re traveling?

A. Definitely. But it isn’t easy to be in public when I’m in Korea.

Q. You will be in public with us though (laughter).

A. It’s certainly easier if I’m shooting.

Q. When was the last time you took the subway?

A. I ride buses sometimes, but the last time I took the subway was three or four years ago in Japan. In Korea, the winter of 2012 was the last time I took the subway.

Q. Is there a part of Seoul you visit often or particularly like?

A. I often go to Cheongdam-dong or Sinsa-dong. I’ve been going to Seongsu-dong a lot lately. Samcheong-dong is a place I’d go for exhibitions and cafes.

Q. What is your favorite food?

A. Burgers. Specially handcrafted burgers. A burger can actually be a healthy food. There are carbs, protein, and veggies. You can ask them to custom make your burger to be less salty and whatnot. I really like this place called Zesty Saloon in Seongsu-dong.

Q. Do you enjoy taking pictures?

A. I can guarantee I’ll take the best picture of someone in less than a minute. Some people take good pictures of you without you actually posing or noticing. And I'm certainly that person. I wish my friends would take good pictures of me when I'm sitting at a bus stop or something, but they don’t (laughter). I have to ask them to take pictures for me, and I pretend I don’t notice them. When I share the pictures I took with my friends, most of them get surprised because they like how they look.

Q. How about you taking pictures of other tourists this time?

A. That’s actually a good idea. I really do take good pictures. I took pictures of Jiyeon Lim when we were in Australia shooting Besties in Wonderland, and she loved them. She posted a lot of them on her social media. Everyone likes pictures where they look good in them (laughter). I can quickly fill anyone’s Instagram feed with my pictures.

Q. Are there any parts of Seoul you’d like to discover?

A. Oh! I was always curious about those people who ride skateboards at Hangang Park. It looks really interesting. I'm quite good at inline skating, but I’ve never tried skateboarding. I want to try those outdoor rock-climbing walls, too.

Q. So, the keywords of SUHO Line will be “pictures, Hangang, shopping, and must-eat places.”

A. I guess so. I can’t wait to find out (laughter).

Everyone has different tastes when traveling, but we all like encountering something new. Starting from June 22 until July 13, the Seoul Tourism Organization's official YouTube channel, VisitSeoul TV. will release a new episode every Thursday of the SUHO Line series that features a special travel course curated by SUHO, with the theme focused on unveiling hidden gems. Spot the undiscovered charms of Seoul through the SUHO Line series.

[myungodlyhour]

MET GALA 2023

As of now, My top 3 of the night were (in no particular order):

Halle Bailey

Lily James

Cardi (both looks, but the pink was fabulous)

Honorable mention:

Viola Davis (me and my momma almost cried, she looked like a Barbie)

Elle Fanning - literally the more I keep staring at her photos the more obsessed I become wit her outfit. She might become a favorite in two days honestly

Janelle Monae - the thome brown coat was fantastic and interesting take on the theme to me. And just points alone for the Chanel swimsuit, I wasn’t expecting that

Rihanna - (I actually preferred her look with the vintage fendi fur coat leaving the hotel than the white dress, but I still loved the “headpiece”)

Jenna Ortega - like Janelle’s coat, very interesting interpretation of theme

Special mention:

Doja Cat - the face prosthetic was so cool (I wish they did a better job of blending it in though with her makeup, and her dress was too big)

My mom’s favorite:

Dua Lipa, she said Dua was really pretty and looked like Snow White

Worst Dressed

Irina Shayk - girl please

Kylie Jenner - ……..

Jack Harlow - why was he even there

Ice Spice - I honestly think she was just there bc she’s popular right now, I’m not mad, get your exposure, but it didn’t even seem like she tried. Maybe she proves me wrong one day, but I don’t see her becoming someone we get excited for fashion wise

Mary J blidge - sorry auntie, but you’ve got to let those thigh high boots go. You can’t wear them everywhere

Margot Robbie - mainly just disappointed. You were literally a Chanel ambassador and they put you in that?! YOU ARE LITERALLY PLAYING BARBIE IN THEY PUT YOU IN THAT??????!!!!!! Her team hates her, I swear they do

Cara Delevingne - Honoring his shirt? Really? And those leggings I think they were, really? YOU WERE HIS MUSE!!! Come on

WTF Moment:

Lil Naz X - he’s so unserious

The Cat aka “Jared Leto” - I can’t

Overall :

This year’s MET was really good honestly, and I think the reason people stayed on theme is because most of the people there worked with Karl , and they could easily pull vintage or current looks from Fendi, Chloe, and especially Chanel. But I really liked that a lot of people actually were dressed in other designers instead of just wearing one of those three brands cus that could have been TOO easy (though I think they needed an easy one cus they’ve been struggling)

I still hate that she decided to honor that man

The carpet was horrible and looked like toothpaste was spread across the carpet

And horrible was Anna’s outfit too

[eldritchmochi]

Have you got any plans for haloween costumes?

I'm going as a burlesque interpretation of Frankenstein so it was nice(?) to see some staple inspo the other day.

I'll just be doing cheesy drawn on stitches though becuase I don't have the skill or patience for real special effects makeup anymore

i ammm actually noodling this now!!!

FOR CONTEXT because i dont think a lot of current followers are familiar with my job pre porn mines, but i did costuming consults for like 6 years (at value village lmao, so both lamer and much much harder than you think). i thusly have a fukken CRATE of costume pieces so i can throw together things willy nilly out of there if i want

however my REAL FORTE (especially given the premise i worked with at that job) is slapping together closet costumes out of my real clothes. everything i wear in my two pumkin head sets are just... normal ass clothes for me (okay the dress under the orange apron was not mine so not "normal" clothes per se but)

n e wai this month, depending on a) if i actually do anything (unlikely) and b) how much stamina i have after surgery AND covid booster, i have a couple of plans for some self shot photos. one is a proof of concept make up wise and the others are just me fucking around like a hoe because i think its funny, but since i ordered some grey paint to tone down my purple for essek ahead of dying gloves and im gonna experiment anyway.....

option one: something something saint imagery with some vibes from pulled from a couple of fanarts i dont have easy links to and Refuse to repost

i have

this halo crown by voodoodolly in black that we tried to mess around with when my cosbuddies were up the other year to take my first round of essek photos but just could not get to stay on my wig; combine it with a lot of like, glitter/pearl/rhinestone tears and sum ANGUISH : fun

pros: avante guard or whatever, makes me wanna get a sword for proper photos

cons: make up will take forever to put on AND take off (hence dry runs), i am not sure anything i'd want to wear for it currently fits??? apart from the corset but i curRENTLY HAVE A BUILT IN BUSK NO THANK YOU

option two: vampire essek lmao, which is realistically what i'd go with if i did end up doing something in a low plague risk environment with like, my sib or something. this might be what i throw on just to vibe check the paint tint adjustments, especially since bottoms would be just leggings (comf. also fuck i desperately need riding boots dont i)

consists of

the beloved blouse by haenuli (in black obviously), likely with my probably edwardian era wool mourning capelet (provided i wanna sew in a dirt/paint catch into the collar). nothing special make up wise beyond fangs, just testing paint colors and eyebrow pomade so i'd do everything else roughly the same as i have before

option three, the hoe option, which i am probably gonna attempt post dying the arm socks to experiment with some OTHER things, is boudoir photos essek. the pearl of rhosohna or something idk all i know is i have a bunch of vintage night gowns and peignoirs and i think it'd be funny. not sure what i would wear specifically i'd have to see what all in my stash fits but would incorporate this necklace (also by haenuli, based off one marie antoinette had)

(i do not own it but my sibling is down to let me borrow theirs. i tentatively want to spoof it to incorporate into an essek mantle anyway so this will be a good opportunity for me to fondle it

wrt stitches!!! you dont have to get extra! they definitely make stitch jewelry that you can buy for a couple of bucks and generally look better than drawn on. the trouble with drawn on stitches, especially around the neck, is they tend to smear (: so ive had a set of jewelry like this for years (mine were also tnbc sally themed, but from hot topic lol)

also obviously i want to go take Ominious Pumpkin Head Photos In The Woods but i need a spotter AND for it to not be raining for like five minutes when i'm not dying :(

[hansoheeglobal]

Han Sohee's Bra Top Shows Off Her Charm by Wearing Red Tights and High Jewelry.

Han Sohee's bra top shows off her charm by wearing red tights and high jewelry.

Q. You've had a lot of overseas schedules lately and been staying in Paris for a week. What do you do when you go to a city other than Seoul?

A. I'm a total lodging person, so I spend most of my time in the room or taking a walk around the neighborhood. When I look at the night view of the city through the window before falling asleep, I feel like I am realizing that I am overseas. I try to get a good night’s sleep because I tend to recover my condition easily as long as I get a good night’s sleep.

Q. This time, you witnessed the presentation of the ‘Carte Blanche’ collection at Maison Boucheron located in Place Vendôme.

A. I couldn't believe it was designed during a time when I was depressed due to Corona, so the color and shape felt experimental. Not only silver or gold, but I was able to see jewelry in a variety of colors. There were designs that naturally melted in everyday life, but the jewelry with bold designs that became a point are especially memorable.

Q. After several photo shoots with〈Bazaar〉, Han Sohee's bright and radiant face was published on the paper. It was your first photoshoot after becoming an ambassador for Boucheron. What was the experience like?

A. Each cut has a different concept, so it's one shot, but I feel like I've been together for many moments. It was a very impressive experience as it seemed that I tried an active and bold production suitable for jewelry in the photo shoot.

Q. Jewelry makes you feel great the moment you wear it. What would be your favorite piece of jewelry?

A. Since I enjoy wearing dresses, I often wear necklaces that can be layered. I especially like vintage earrings. Even if you wear the same clothes and are in the same place, you can change your mood with just one piece of jewelry. Actually, I don't think my hands are pretty, so I usually wear earrings or necklaces depending on my mood that day. I also use ear cuffs when wearing casual clothes.

Q. Youfinished filming seasons 1 and 2 of the Netflix series <Gyeongseong Creature> not too long ago from last year. You took on the role of Yoon Chaeok, a todukun (a person who searches for missing people) who is in danger of survival while crossing Manchuria and Shanghai. What did you prepare for by playing this role for a long time?

A. Although I was attracted to the background of Gyeongseong, I think I was greatly attracted to the character Yoon Chaeok, who lived in that era more fiercely than anyone else. While acting, the most difficult thing is to find an intersection with her while living a whole day or two as the character. It's my biggest homework. This time again, I was absorbed in finding that point.

Q. In works such as Nabi in <Nevertheless> and Jiwoo in <My Name>, you also revealed that you've been playing characters who are far from a flat life, but this work must not have been easy either. Is there anything new you realize as you work? Do you think you are getting better?

A. I constantly doubt myself. Rather than the concept of progress and retreat, I think more about whether I can make myself not ashamed of the word "acting"

Q. Many people who have met Han Sohee often refer to expressions such as ‘unintelligible facial expressions’ or ‘cool aura’. Have you ever wondered why?

A. It wasn't my own intention, but it seems like people appreciate my unique appearance. (Laughs)

Q. What do you do when you want to get out of the way people want to see Han Sohee?

A. In fact, fans know many different sides of me, but I want to show a lot of comfortable sides to those who don't know.

Q. Blogs are the places where those human aspects are shown the best. In an interview with <Bazaar> 3 years ago, I remember saying that when life is tiring, it is more comforting to calmly tell about everyday life that is no different from you rather than baseless optimism which “everything will be fine.” How's the pretty tricky rule climbing club you revealed in your October post last year maintained?

A. Me and my friends seem to have no sense of time. I didn't see her, just talking and leaving.

Q. Looking at a recent post with a 220 size foot picture, I guess you have your own way of getting close to people. When I read the blog post, I thought I could understand what kind of person you are.

A. There's no other way, but when I feel like I want to get closer, I act first. Most of the time, I tend to approach people who can share my honest thoughts and attitudes.

Q. You also upload drawings of plants and bodies. What do you think about when you are painting?

A. I don't draw with intent or purpose. When I wake up without thinking, I tend to draw anything with an oil paste.

Q. There was a time when you said that you wanted to shoot a movie yourself. In a recent advertisement video, it became a hot topic by showing a scene paying homage to director Park Chanwook's film.

A. I like movies with primary colors and mise-en-scène. I really like director Park Chanwook's films, so while filming, I paid homage to numerous works and thought a lot about whether I would fit in well.

Q. What kind of story will the movie Han Sohee make someday be?

A. The story of a weak character who is not good at sports.

Q. What are some guidelines or truths in life that you engrave now or always?

A. ‘Life is fleeting. However, we are living in the present and are only beings that will disappear later. I think that it is enough to be grateful for what is given, not greedy, and just live.”

Q. You entered 30s by accepting changes more actively than anyone else. What does 30 mean to you?

A. I only think that the first digit has changed.

Q. How would you like to spend this time?

A. Although the image of myself that I hoped for is becoming vague, I always want to throw myself into the given work and spend it without regret.

Note: it's a rough trans so expect a lot of translation error.

[jellimac-sims-stories]

Simfluencer

Jellimac

---

Chapter 2

I love that I live in the city now. Each day brings a new influence. The people, the food, the art, and the architecture. Everything is so different from Oasis Springs. It's exactly what I was hoping for. Every day is so inspiring! Or it could be that there are a lot of things around with an inspiring emotional aura. Either way, I’ve been nonstop painting since I got here. 

What I don'tWhat I don't love is that my pieces don't seem to sell. I tried selling a few of my older pieces to make room for new ones at the flea market outside my building my first weekend here. Only one sold. I left feeling really disappointed. It took me a few days to get over it. Probably doesn't help that I’m trying to sell art outside of the art museum. 

My art style is mainly pop and abstract but only my realism paintings have sold for any significant amount. Back home I used to mostly sell paintings from references of people’s vintage cars from Moonlight Falls and Roaring Heights or landscapes of Glimmerbrook and Old Town. I thought the move out to the city would help me get a new perspective and hopefully new customers. That's all anyone ever talks about when they want to become a famous fashion designer or artist, you know. Going to the city. Becoming inspired in some new way. Gain new customers and become so famous that your pieces sell for motherloads. I`d like to say that money isn’t my motivator but a little padding in the bank wouldn’t hurt.

Jonah is basically the only person who had ever purchased my original pieces. He’s posted about it on his social pages and his fans did like it. Not as much as they liked his shirtless pictures but I did get a few followers from his posts. He’s also donated a few of my pieces to his fans. For him, it's a good way to gain more fame. His fans do seem to love the paintings but I'm sure if it's only because they got them from him. Did I forget to mention that he's a major celebrity? The only one in Oasis Springs. He’s really made a good name for himself and I appreciate all that he does to get mine out there as well.

I’m not completely internet illiterate; I already have an insta, twitter, and a website, but Jonah has been bugging me to make everything more streamlined so after several texts back and forth one afternoon we set everything up. I am now the proud manager of a social media empire named Cosmickitty; since that was already my nom de plume. 

I took my new empire for a test drive. A few photos of my new downtown area, photos of my work around my apartment, inspirational quotes, and some cute selfies shamelessly self-promoting my other pages on each platform as I went. Over the next few days, I watched as twitter followers followed my insta and insta followers followed by twitter. Notification of new followers and likes came chiming in. I guess maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. 

I had almost fifty followers by the end of the first week. The pics of the city got a few likes and the selfies too mostly from tattoo pages saying they like my ink or asking if I could model for them. A few of my posts of me painting got the attention of the other artist flea markets in the area. KryticZeuz invited me to sign up for the flea market in the Spice Market. Thinking it couldn’t be worse than the last flea market, I snagged a street gallery wall for an upcoming weekend and I tweeted that I’d be there. 

The Spice District has a totally different vibe from the Arts Quarter. Honestly, I feel that this should be the Arts Quarter; murals everywhere, everything is so colorful from the building to the food to the people. Looking around I can’t help thinking that I probably should have moved here instead but I knew I wouldn’t want to run into Josh’s ex-girlfriend who lives here. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I don’t like that woman. 

The flea market here was very different from the one near my apartment. Less art and more handcrafted or collected items. The table next to me was full of crystals. I bought a rare alexandrite from Selvadorada while I waited for buyers to come up to my stall. I was beginning to have the same experience that I’ve had in the past in terms of selling but then this one guy came up to my selling wall that I didn’t expect. He didn’t even look like the type to shop at a flea market. He was a few shakes away from tall, dark, and handsome. Yeah, he was tall but lean and perfectly dressed with chestnut brown locs that had the sort of style that is meant to look messy on purpose. Way too sophisticated for my style. 

It’s a borderline heatwave this Sunday but there he was looking fresh and cool in his suit as he perused my art pinned up for sale. He looked as if he’d just come from some important meeting about something really important for someone really important with some important people. He had that sort of air about him even with his suit jacket open and a few buttons on his dress shirt unbuttoned. I took a deep breath, told myself to not be intimidated, and queued up my best sales pitch as I approached him, “Hello sir. I'm glad you've come by my display today. Is there any piece in particular that you'd like to know more about?”

“I like your figure painting but I'm afraid I like pieces that have much more...interesting subjects,” his voice was much deeper than I would have anticipated and I caught a hint of a southern drawl...

Can't wait for more? Read the whole story on my AO3