#thinking about a time I saw someone tell an artist of color that they clearly didn't look at enough reference images of their own ethnicity

[annabelle--cane]

sure, "I'm part of this marginalized group that I'm writing about" isn't a get out of jail free card for all bigotry, but if someone says "I'm portraying an exact experience I've had, this literally happened to me" and your response is "okayyy but think of the optics of showing that that happens? maybe keep that to yourself?" it might be time to reconsider your approach.

#thinking about a time I saw someone tell an artist of color that they clearly didn't look at enough reference images of their own ethnicity #what. they said that this character's look is semi based on their own appearance. What. #marina marvels at life

[supercap2319]

Dick had seen some crazy shit in his time as Batman's sidekick and as Nightwing, but what he saw tonight; he couldn't prepare himself for it. He was out on patrol. All the other Titans were moving on with their lives, but Dick was still Nightwing. He still had a mission to protect people. And tonight was no exception as he saw a sight that was weird, even by his standards.

He saw a bunch of thugs pretending they were badasses, up against someone who was dressed very differently. He knew superheroes dressed in colorful costumes, but this person definitely took the cake. He'll, he took the whole fucking bakery. He was dressed in a bright blue costume with black and gray. He wore a dinosaur shaped helmet that resembled a triceratops.

The thugs unloaded their guns on him and for a moment, Dick was worried that someone who tried to play the hero, got shot dead. But apparently his suit must have been bulletproof because he charged them without a care as his sword glowed blue like a lightsaber and cut all their weapons in half. They stood shocked at what he just did.

Dick heard his voice, an amusement in it. "Well, fellas, what's it gonna be? Turn yourselves in? Or do we continue this dance?" The thugs, of course, chose to fight. The person, who was clearly a male underneath that visor, made quick work of them. Dick was impressed. A fellow martial artist. He jumped down from the rooftop he was perched on as he walked towards the mysterious hero, his batons at the ready in case this guy decided to start something.

The helmet of the dinosaur turned towards him. "Who are you supposed to be? The Masked Rider? One of the Beetleborgs? Or are you working for Void King?"

Nightwing frowned at that. He's never heard of those things before. Especially not this... 'Void King.' He took a cautious step towards him. "The name's Nightwing. And you're trespassing in my city." He didn't want to sound like Bruce. So mean and cold, but something about this guy made him feel uneasy. He just finished saving the world from Brother Blood. He didn't want another war on his hands, especially since he was the only one left.

"No need for hostility, Nightwing. I'm just protecting the innocent like the Power Rangers should." The guy said.

"Power Rangers? Who the hell are you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does..." Dick trails off as he brings out his Escrima Sticks, charged with electricity. "Put your weapon down. Now!"

This Power Ranger character raised his sword as it glowed blue for a moment. "Tell Void King that I'm never going to let him or Void Queen take over my home. The earth belongs to the Rangers and the people who live here." He pointed his sword at Dick.

Dick smiles. "Finally, some excitement."

Dick and the Power Ranger charged each other as they traded attacks of their weapons back and forth.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #crossover fic #power rangers #power rangers dino fury #male reader power ranger #dick grayson x male reader #dick grayson #brenton thwaites x male reader #brenton thwaites #nightwing x male reader #nightwing #titans #dc titans #cw Titans

[allthenamesithinkofaretaken]

Wally, Darling ♥

Wally Darling x Architect! F! Reader

HHHHHHHH this puppet has me on a chokehold. Words I never thought I’d ever hear myself say or type. Ever. I blame it on tiktok. I was doing my architectural interiors plate when I got distracted by tiktok and this yellow puppet sesame street jojo reference lookin ass charmed me to death. So now I’m here. And no one was writing domestic fluff for the two so I took it upon myself and wrote this.

They’re married, your honor. Also the MC knows what Wally is capable of and they love him for it.

I thought it would be fun to make an architect character seeing that I am studying to be one, and it would be interesting because an artist and an architect would be a perfect pair in my eyes. Tell me if you wanna see more of these two! I'd be glad to write some more!

For a cheerful place like the Neighborhood, no one would dare think that such a colorful and lively place like such would ever hold horrifying secrets… But, unfortunately, it does. And the neighborhood’s artist is one of them.

And she knows. She’s known about it for a long time. The others, however… they couldn’t see him the way she could, couldn’t look behind those seemingly unblinking eyes and find the truth he had shown her himself. The way his blank stares could look past the colorful world they lived in and stare at those from above. He’s quoted it before. ‘As above, so below’, the word’s were a puzzle on her brain, one she didn’t think she could fully understand the way he did, but he promised her that he’d help her understand, soon.

“Wally, darling?” She walked through the open door of his house, Home, who had easily let her in the moments its eyes saw her walking down the street. She could hear him humming from somewhere inside. Giving Home a single pat on the wall as she entered as some sort of greeting, Home let out a squeak on its door as it closed, the sound resembling that of a satisfied squeak that definitely alarmed the other resident inside.

“Home? Is someone at the door?”

Home replied with a few banging of the doors and a squeak at a nearby window.

“Oh!” The footsteps that followed the sound of realization brought a chuckle to her lips, untying her shoes and placing them in the nearby shoe rack just as Wally appears on the corner, his smile seeming to grow at the sight of her standing from the crouched position, taking the bags of groceries from the side and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Clearly,” she laughed, especially with the way his cheeks turned a bright pink with embarrassment. She cups his cheeks, tilting his head up at her and giving him a kiss on the forehead then down the middle of his face, and finally, to his lips, and he could’ve fallen then and there on the floor if she didn’t have her hands to his cheeks to ground him. His eyes staring lovingly into her own that she could’ve sworn they would’ve dilated all the way to make his eyes all black. “Now, what do you want to have for lunch? I bought your favorite.”

That made him perk up, helping her with the rest of the bags of groceries and bringing them to the kitchen as she offered to make him try apple pie, especially since her grandmother called and gave her the recipe she’s been asking for the past few months.

She started the stove, and at the heat, Home opened the windows by the sink, muttering a small thank you to the house as she went and grabbed the familiar shiny red delicious in one of the bags, Wally perking up at the sight and immediately sneaking a bite on one of them.

“Now, I—” She paused at the sight of a bite mark on the one she was holding, the smug look on Wally’s face not going unnoticed before he turned inconspicuously to the drawers, pulling one open and grabbing the cutlery they needed to make lunch. “Wally, darling,”

“Yes (Y/n), darling?” His hands were behind his back, eyes squinted in a tease as his cat-like grin seemed to widen in a challenge. “Did something happen?”

She turned the apple around, showing him the bite mark and his face contorted into a faux shock, a hand to his chest. “Oh no! Did Howdy sell you that? My, you better check your bags next time before buying them.”

“Here, let me eat that one so it doesn’t go to waste,” Wally snatches it out of her hand, but she was quick enough to turn and hover it above her head, lips in a victorious grin until the world seemed to go to static, and her limbs felt numb, the sound of chomping echoing in the sudden silence that stirred the entirety of the neighborhood.

She blinked, meeting eye to eye with a rather satisfied Wally. When she brought her hand down, the apple that had been in her palm was left with nothing but the core.

“I forgot you could do that,” She poked her tongue out at him, and he laughed in the way he normally did, her stomach flipping at the sound, unable to help the laughter that leaves her as well. The way he ate always left her shaking at times, made her skin feel as if static was crawling on every crevice of her body, but at the end of the day, it was him, and she trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t try to hurt her with his abilities. “Now, how about we actually start making lunch?” She waves a plastic spatula at him. “And don’t eat all the apples, I’ll need those for the apple pie later!”

He pokes his tongue out at her, then takes out some of the groceries, Home helping out by opening the fridge just as he was bringing the eggs over and either opening the drawers for him or for (Y/n) whenever one of them needed something from somewhere.

It was the usual dance around the kitchen. If (Y/n) needed something from a drawer, Home was quick to open that said drawer and Wally would grab the item and hand it to her, if the food was done, (Y/n) would scoop a little bit onto a spatula and lightly blow on it, before trying to taste it and then, she would turn to him.

“What do you think? Is it good?”

He’d let his stare on her linger, and then turn to the food on the spatula. She could feel it again, the way the world seemed to turn into a buzz of static, crawling up her arms and legs before she blinked and everything was back to normal, and the food on the spatula was gone.

“It tastes lovely.”

She grinned, satisfied with the answer before finally turning the stove off, placing the plates and other utensils she used on the sink. “That’s great! Poppy is coming over, by the way! She wanted to talk to me about renovating her house.”

“Oh?” He grabs the plate from inside a kitchen cabinet that Home swings open, wondering if he should bring out three sets of plates judging from that information or if he should just ask. “What did she want to change about it?”

“Nothing much, just the porch and the living room, everything else is fine.” As she was placing the food on the table, she perked up. “Oh! You could help me with painting! She said it was fine if you painted the front of the house! I thought it would be a good idea since you paint better between the both of us and she said that she would be thrilled if you gave it some sort of personal touch the way we did with Sally’s!”

He loved seeing the sparkle in her eyes whenever she talked about the things she enjoyed the most, how they would crinkle at the sides with joy and how they would look up as she tried to remember something she had forgotten. He adored his darling, and there were little to no times where he could bring himself to say ‘no’ to her.

So, obviously, he said yes. Anything for her, to spend time with his (Y/n) Darling.

#wally darling brainrot #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home x reader #welcome home wally darling x reader #x reader #fanfic #sally starlet #julie joyful #poppy partridge #welcome home fanfic

[desafinado]

ooh if you’re taking requests I would love to ask for something kaveh related,, I love him and his recent appearances have me going feral

I was thinking maybe something with an artist s/o?? with his whole arts and romance thing I think it would be so cute 😭 sketching out his building ideas and such together..I just crave kaveh content tbh

✎, ੈ♡ kaveh with an artistic s/o

°｡⋆ kaveh x reader 

°｡⋆ artsy stuff, sickening fluff (yk the drill), love, beloved, dear

note: reader is described to be an appreciator of all art in general (visual arts and writing specifically)  just take what resonates lol, but yeah ^^ also ahh i wrote a song sorta similar to this concept before called “art museum” so i took inspo from that skjfsdf

if you think about it, everything you see has its own artistry, its own beauty; beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all. among all the things and people, however, you found kaveh to be the most beautiful thing of them all.

his creations were just as beautiful, of course. you couldn’t help but adore the details, the aesthetics, the everything. he was clearly someone who created with his heart on his sleeve, and it was why you admired him so dearly.

and while you had this respectful and deep admiration for him, he would only praise you for giving him such inspiration in the first place, whether it be the art you create or the love you give him.

he’d watch in awe, seeing you create visuals that make him swoon, and write words that almost bring him to tears.

if he wasn’t dating you, he’d still definitely be your number one fan.

that being said, you are dating, so expect that you do the most nerdy art things together; going to art museums, painting and wine dates, simply sitting in the living room and reading each other poetry (or even making some).

“hmm, and you were there, a heavenly body, a star, whose presence i had been blessed with.” “k-kaveh! you don’t need to read every poem… haven’t you flustered me enough, today?” “i wasn’t reading that time, beloved.”

everything reminds you of each other; when you both get home, you spend the first 30 minutes telling each other of everything you saw today that reminded you of each other.

more so, when it’s art. you both could go on for hours.

“i saw a newly installed statue today, i think it was a representation of spring, blooming and such?” “hmm… sounds lovely, i’d love to see it and interpret it for myself.” “well, for me, it only ever reminded me of you.”

helping each other with your arts; i mean, art is a form of expression and you think kaveh brings out the best in you vice-versa.

he’ll ask for your opinion on sketches, how he can improve and get his feelings across better. he’ll often feign naivety and ask you to help him draw it, just so he can get you to hold him closer.

“dear… i truly haven’t a clue what you mean. could you maybe guide my hand and help me understand?”

you know what he’s doing, of course, but you’re not complaining. you’ll even tease him and whisper softly into his ear; he asked for it after all.

when you’re writing, painting, sketching or doing anything at all really, you can expect him to be watching. he’ll hum in agreement or gently speak some words of affirmation.

when he notices you being a bit stuck, a bit uninspired and frustrated, or simply overworked, he’ll be quick to coax you into bed to cuddle.

he knows how easily you might get into your head, overthinking your work, critiquing every small detail, so he’ll simply get you to stop thinking period.

he’ll stroke your head, caress your cheeks, and mindlessly draw circles on your neck, while reading you your favorite poetry.

if all else fails, he takes you out to see the sunset/sunrise (whichever is more convenient). underneath the dance of colors, the borders between day and night, he reminds you how beautiful the world is. without over complicating everything, the world simply creates all its wonders as they are.

he won’t let go of you until you get a well deserved night’s rest, and you can always expect to be right there when you wake up.

and you wake up to see that lazy smile of his, slightly squinted eyes and groggy morning voice; there’s a tenderness as he greets you a “good morning, beautiful.” and you know feel all your worries melt away.

you think he’s a being way beyond any piece of art, because he gives you reasons to face the next day, and have the courage to express yourself.

that and you can kiss him silly until you can only say each other’s names.

requests are open!! please do not repost on other sites.

#kaveh #genshin impact #kaveh x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #gn!reader #genshin imagines

[augustheart]

hooty and charlie drawings Rated

first i came for the live action hawkman and hawkgirl wings... then for their comic book counterparts... now without further ado, i introduce you to an extensive rating of hootie and charlie illustrations done by comic book artists who have seemingly never seen an owl in their lives. i will be using the spelling "hootie" even though comics are very inconsistent about whether it's spelled with a y or an ie.

this post is going to be pretty long, so everything is under the cut.

this hootie is a 4/10. we're starting off strong with a golden age contender. despite the low rating, i really like the care that went into illustrating this little guy. is it possible to tell what kind of owl he is? not really. but you know, that's okay. he can be greateasternscreechhorned. he's got the spirit. and i love how talkative he is. however, seeing this makes me wonder what went so wrong with hawkman's wings in the same era...

this hootie is a 4/10. just a little guy! not sure what's happening with his beak but that's okay because he's just little. once more i am fond of the golden age's owl illustrations.

this hootie is a 5/10. he is extremely Eyes. here we have a rare interpretation of hooty as an owl that is clearly not in the bubo genus and is instead... i dunno. strix? maybe? i can't tell what species he is but you know what i'll let it slide because he is So Eyes.

this hootie is a 8/10, despite being from the same issue as the one above. clearly a strix owl now, probably a barred although the coloring is more similar to a tawny. i won't hold coloring choices against them quite yet though. we've got the right proportions, we've got some chest barring, we're doing good.

this hootie is a 1/10 but it does make me cry laughing every time i look at him so that's gotta count for something.

this hootie (XIV) is a 2/10. just an assortment of lines that runs around charles' office. points for being beth's friend.

this charlie is a 8/10. not much detail going on but we can put that down to the stylization. the eyes are the right color for a great-horned owl and i can see a female being that size. her plumicorns being in a relaxed position is cute. i do think that the method of summoning her with a piece of raw chicken was a terrible idea, but i guess no worse that charles feeding hootie lobster off his fork.

this charlie is a 5/10. hey man What is going on here. the white under the bill is like someone saw the white chest patch great horned owls have and went "awesome, that's all the photo reference i need to see" and then went at it. why is the wing partially white. is that the wing? at least the eyes are still the right color even if they should Not be angled considering owls famously cannot move their eyes at all.

this charlie is a 8/10. the anatomy is solid with a nicely defined facial disk and the expression without the eyes being able to move is adorable. also realistically huge feet--nobody ever seems to remember how big owl talons are. not much of a defined pattern but i like it.

this charlie is a 4/10. this looks like an owl i would draw. that's not a compliment. the shape is just a Suggestion. it's close to being good but it does not sell me.

this charlie is a 2/10. who the Fuck is that. why are they tiny and white.

this charlie is a 4/10. all the right pieces are there but we could do with some better assemblage, and there's not really any markings. unlike the charlie above that i ranked a 7 there's not even a suggestion of them. could be worse though.

this charlie is a -1000/10 i fucking hate this thing every time i have to look at it. the longer you stare the worse it gets. utterly abysmal.

#long post #i guess i'll tag #doctor mid-nite

[angelltheninth]

How Do You Take It?

Pairing: Childe x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, cafes, flirting, first meeting, barista Childe

Word count: 0.9k

A/N: Next fic for my 5k event. The prompt for this one was 'coffee shop au' with Childe. I think he'd be a very charming barista. Actually I think I wanna commission some art of that, so if any of you know any good Genshin artists please tell me. If you want more fics from this event you can go to my wholesome list or to my darker list. What ever you're in the mood for.

It was actually quite the slow day for you. You just went through the motions, a little bit tired, more than a little stressed, you just wanted to go somewhere quiet to relax. You head about the Fatui Café and apparently it was always quiet in there. Weather it was from the atmosphere itself or the lack of business you did not know. You decided to see for yourself.

Upon opening the door the ambiance was simultaneously hot and cold, with lots of dim blues, almost grey mixed in with faint yellows and orange colors, creating a contrast in the café.

"A customer!" You heard a cheerfully voice, which apparently belonged to the brown haired man behind the counter, "Arlecchino we got a customer! I told you someone would walk in!" He looked toward the door in the back where you briefly saw a flash of black and white, "And she's cute too." He said a little quieter and winked your way.

Heat rose to your cheeks and you knew damn well it wasn't the temperature of the shop.

Looking around you noticed that you were actually the only one in the place. So the quiet is from the lack of customers. One mystery solved. Hopefully it wasn't because their coffee sucked.

"Hello." You give the man a small smile as you approach.

"Hey there. The name's Childe!" He gestures to his name tag, "Welcome to the Fatui Harbingers. Or the Fatui Café as is the legal name." He leans in a little bit closer and smirks at you, "But between you and me I think my name is way cooler." He whispers that last part before straightening up.

Now that you're a little closer you can see that he has a very handsome face, with a smile that is downright infectious. And his eyes? You've never seen ones with such a pretty shade of blue, like looking at a crystal.

"How do you take it?" The question takes you back, so far back, almost feeling you had the wind knocked out of you.

"E-Excuse me?!" You feel your cheeks heat up quickly. Childe gives you a knowing smirk, his eyes giving you a quick lookover, which only adds to your already burning face.

"Your coffee. What will it be?" His voice drops just a little, with just a hint of breathiness, his semi-gloved hands tapping on the counter along with the clock handle.

"Oh. Maybe something slightly sweet? I don't know what's good here."

"Everything is good here. The coffee that is. But uh... some of my friends... they scare people away." He leans forward again, this time looking straight into your eyes, "Don't worry though, I can protect you from them if you decide to come back."

"Protect me?" You were so lost in Childe's eyes that you failed to notice the woman approaching the two of you.

"Stop flirting with the customer kid. Just give her what she asked for." An older woman smacked Childe on the shoulder, which made both of you jump. Judging from the color of her hair she was the woman you saw a glimpse of earlier.

Childe made a slightly pouty face, "Just trying to be friendly. Unlike you. And I wouldn't do anything while on my shift. Unlike you and Columbina. And you're supposed to be examples."

You had no idea who Columbina was or what Childe was talking about but clearly it irritated the other woman who have him the sharpest look you've ever seen anyone give to someone. Even you could feel your blood running cold from it.

"Okey, okey, fine. Don't kill me for telling the truth." He put his hands up in mock surrender, which earned him and even sharper look somehow.

"No flirting." She looks from him to you and back to him, like a mother scolding her kid, before she takes her leave.

Childe exhales, "Well that was one of them. Just be glad it wasn't her girlfriend. That woman if crazy with a capital 'C' and even more scary." He shoots you a what you assume is a reassuring smile, "Anyway you can take a seat anywhere you want. I'll bring you something that will knock your socks off." He nods his head in determination and turns around to begin his work.

You have no idea what he's going to make but you can't deny the little spark of excitement.

There are many places to choose from to sit so you make yourself comfortable towards the middle of the shop, not too close and not too far from Childe.

When he finally brings you your coffee he also has a small plate with various baked goods, "On the house. Not every day our shop is graced with a pretty lady." He winks at you again as he sets the tray before you. You watch him turn on his heel and walk back to his spot, his pace slightly slow, his arms behind his head.

Only when you look at the coffee cup to you notice a phone number and a small piece of paper beneath the plate of baked goods. You exhale slowly as you pick it up and read it.

"Arlecchino said I can't flirt while I'm on my shift, said nothing about after. Shift ends at 7, text me after if you wanna talk ok cutie? Hope to hear and see you again soon. Childe." That was rather forward. You don't think you'd go on a date to him just yet though. But a little flirting doesn't sound bad. You put his number in immediately and catch a not so subtle 'Yes!' coming from behind the counter. And he's cute too it seems.

Maybe, just maybe, you found your new favorite café.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe #childe x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #tartaglia #tartagalia x reader #childe fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact imagines

[hannibal-film-school]

What is cinematography? Hannibal edition

We know Hannibal often gets cited for its beautiful cinematography. But what does that mean, exactly?

If we talk about the cinematography of an episode, we're talking about the decisions that went into making each shot and scene and episode look just right. It's helpful to remember that at its most basic level, film (or television) is just about using some sort of camera equipment to photograph light. And when you do that, there are a ton of variables affecting the way that recorded light is going to look when you play it back.

Hannibal gets it.

Cinematography means: "We've got these amazing actors performing this great story in this scenic location, now how do we light and photograph all this stuff so that it looks exactly the way we want?"

And this is super important, because of course, the way a scene or shot looks is going to deeply affect what it makes us think and feel.

Elements of cinematography:

Lighting

Types of cameras and lenses, and how you use them

Shot distance (how close you place the camera for each shot)

Shot composition (figuring out where to place everything in each shot, including actors)

Use of color, brightness, shadow, contrast (very important in a "dark" show like this)

Camera movement

Camera angles

Depth of focus (do we want to clearly see everything that's in the shot? or do we want to have things in focus and others out of focus? should the focus change during the shot or stay the same?)

So really, when we say that a show has beautiful cinematography, we more or less mean that the way it's shot is beautiful, striking, evocative. We can tell that someone didn't just throw on some basic flat network procedural lighting and shoot from all the conventional angles. They put thought and style into it.

What does a cinematographer actually do?

The cinematographer is also called the director of photography (DP). They work closely with the director, workshopping their vision with them. They're in charge of both the camera crew and the lighting crew, deciding what they should do to make every scene look exactly the way it should. They read the script ahead of time, and they visit sets and locations before shooting to plan how they're going to tackle the look of each scene.

Director of photography might sound like kind of a secondary position, but not really! It's incredibly important. Hannibal had the same cinematographer, James Hawkinson, working on almost every single episode. This isn't always the case in television, so I think we're very lucky that he was such a consistent part of the artistic process.

Hawkinson dropping that DP wisdom in the season 2 DVD extras.

Check out this interview, in which Bryan Fuller explains how when he saw Hawkinson's cinematography in action, he changed his whole approach to writing the series:

Hawkinson’s cinematography helped elevate the network show into one of the most visually exciting series ever produced for any platform. [...] Bryan Fuller and his staff had written five episodes that tried to toe the tricky line between Thomas Harris’ Hannibal Lecter novels and the structured storytelling of a network investigative procedural. “I remember leaving the edit session where we’d seen the first cut [of the pilot] and I was like, ‘We’re doing the wrong show,” said Fuller in an interview with IndieWire. “When I saw David Slade and Jim Hawkinson’s work, and really understood the artful piece that they were able to conjure for what we had, I threw out the scripts.” 

I mean, this says a lot, right? Fuller is saying that he completely rewrote the beginning of the first season, in part because Hawkinson's photography on the pilot made him realize they had the chance to reach for something deeper, something more artistic than he'd thought possible.

Gorgeous moody lighting and photography from the very first episode.

With new directors working on the show from week to week, and Hawkinson needing to work closely with each of them, it became part of his job to make sure they were on the right wavelength with show's vision. He talked in this interview about how he would sometimes need to "check" guest directors if their ideas didn't quite fit the Hannibal style:

There's times where I've been asked to do shots that I didn't feel were the show. And as the director of photography, keeping the aesthetics consistent from director to director, I have to protect and justify the aesthetics of the show. So that's kind of a torch that I kind of just bear, whatever director comes in. [...] Say someone has a vision of a dead person and I'll be asked by a guest director to put smoke and backlight. And I'll argue that ... as soon as you do it becomes hokey and it becomes a B-movie and it's cliché. So the horror in Hannibal is more based in some sort of reality. Yes it's heightened but ... there's nothing fantastical about it.

We can see here that Hawkinson knew the visual language of Hannibal inside and out, and he played a key part in keeping it so consistent and distinctive. The show became known for its evocative color palette, thoughtful shot compositions, and use of light and shadow -- all elements of cinematography. And as Hawkinson said, it was always important that the violence and death at the center of the show was photographed artistically, emotionally... even beautifully.

A horror image becomes moving and mysterious through cinematography.

Imagine how different this shot could have felt with a different quality of light. Or if we were looking from a different angle, or distance. Cinematography is all about making sure those elements are perfectly positioned, as much as possible, so that we see the show just the way its creative team hoped we would.

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal meta

[paleparearchive]

The Jar of Happiness

Millet's 1st initial 3★ story (2/2) ( 1 - 2 )

Location: café 2 | Characters: Millet, Courbet, Mucha

Millet: I wonder if the person who sold me the jar is really a scammer…

Courbet: I'll make it clear in today's discussion.

Man: –Sorry for keeping you waiting.

Courbet: Finally, here you are, you scammer.

Millet: H-Hold on, Courbet! It's rude to talk that way…!

Courbet: Hmpf, what's wrong with telling the truth?

Anyway, sit down. I want to talk to you about this jar. Prove to me that the pricing of this jar is appropriate.

Man: Ooh… You're saying you're not satisfied with the price of this jar?

Courbet: Exactly. In the first place, I heard that the price of this jar was determined solely by your discernment, am I right? Is it really worth the price Millet paid? It's typical of a scam to sell something with unrealistic words such as “it will bring happiness”, to begin with.

Man: Whatever the method of pricing was, Mr. Millet was convinced to buy it. So there's nothing wrong with that, right?

Millet: That's right, Courbet. I'm happy I bought this jar, see?

Courbet: You shut up.

… Anyway, I demand a full refund. Immediately return the money this guy paid.

Man: Ah, that would be impossible. It's written right in the contract. No refunds for any reason.

Courbet: I would've missed it if it was written in such small print. Millet, was this explained to you at the time of purchase?

Millet: Uhm… I wonder if that happened…?

Man: Of course I did. So I think there is a properly signed contract, right?

Courbet: That's a rule you've decided on your own. It isn't something we necessarily have to follow.

Man: However, Mr. Millet and I agreed to the terms of the contract and the sale was concluded. Right, Mr. Millet?

Millet: Y-Yes…

Courbet: But…!

Man: Haah, I don't think I can keep up with you any longer. That's all for now, if you'll excuse me.

Courbet: H-Hey! Wait!

Millet: Courbet, that's enough!

Courbet: But he's clearly a scammer. We can't just let him go on like this…!

—

Courbet: Sigh… Looks like we'll have to take legal action. The point is that you were brought into the store. In other words, under the Specified Commercial Transactions Law…

Millet: Hey, Courbet. I really appreciate your concern, but I think I made a good deal, okay? It's not every day you can buy a jar that brings you happiness. I hope this will help me do better at my job so I can send more money to my parents.

Courbet: You... You should learn to be a little more skeptical of people. That's bullshit.

Millet: You're the one who needs to trust me a little more, Courbet. This jar is pretty good, isn't it? See, this coloring. I think it has a depth that mass-produced products don't have.

Courbet: … If you ask me, the picture is certainly not bad. I was looking at it with a prejudiced eye, thinking it was a con artist's jar, but…

Mucha: Oh, what a coincidence to see you in a place like this. Are you two dining together?

Millet: Oh? Mucha-san. Is something the matter?

Mucha: I had a meeting with an art dealer. I was about to leave when I saw you were here.

Oh my… that jar…! Where did you get such a precious jar?

Millet: …? Well, I bought it in town a while back…

Mucha: Amazing... It is well preserved. A gem like this is hard to find.

Courbet: Hey, what are you excited about?

Mucha: This vase has excellent value. Unless you are very wealthy, I do not think you could afford it…

Courbet: What!? Is this jar really that expensive…?

Millet: Um, so does that mean it's worth many times more than a month's salary…?

Mucha: You were able to buy it for that price!? It should jave been many times that... dozens of times more expensive.

Millet: Huuh, seriously!?

Mucha: If you are willing to sell it, I can introduce you to an art dealer. This is a first-class piece that everyone wants.

Millet: … I see, it's such an amazing thing. Then it better be in the hands of someone who really wants it.

Courbet: I can't believe it... So that scammer didn't realize the value of this jar either.

Mucha: ! Scammer…? May I ask you for more details?

Courbet: Yeah, actually…

Millet: (I can't believe that it could be a month's salary multiplied dozens of times… I knew it was a jar that brings good luck! I'm so lucky someone this kind gave it to me.)

#palette parade #palette parade tl #palepare #palepare tl #card tl #card translation #translation #3★ #millet #jean françois millet

[khaderh]

virtual sketchbook section 3

Part 1:

What is it made of?

The medium the artist Gesualdo Gatti used was bronze.

How big is it?

Sadly I can't tell how big it is since I haven't visited it, but by the looks of it, it looks around 5-6 feet including the boat the boy is standing on.

What colors and shapes are used?

Straight bronze was used to create this sculpture, and then the creator poured molten metal into a mold and left it to solidify.

What subjects (if any) are represented?

I don't think any subject was represented in this case, instead a symbol.

How was the work designed?

The artist made a sculpture of a boy bailing a boat.

Is it balanced?

Yes, this sculpture is indeed balanced because if it wasn't balanced the artwork would fall.

What is emphasized? Rhythm? Proportion?

He made sure to only use straight bronze for the sculpture and he evenly proportioned everything from the boy to the bail.

Contrast? Does it have unity and variety?

This artwork does have unity but does not have any variety. I believe it has unity because the boy uses the bail, he uses the bail because his boat is leaking, and it all works in one.

Part 2: 

How does the work make you feel? 

I chose this artwork right away when I saw it because I instantly felt sad/anxious when I had seen it. I have been searching for artwork that would kind of call out to me for the past 2 hours and this one did so right when I saw it. 

How or why does it evoke these feelings?

So no matter what I do, I always back it up with religion, for example, if I see an artwork I relate it to my religion and how it makes me feel because so. The reason I felt sad/anxious about this artwork is that it reminded me of "The leaking bucket".  Us Muslims try not to be like the "Leaking bucket" because, for example, a "Leaking bucket" is like someone who speaks kindly and gently with people but is Harsh and gives an attitude toward his own family. Or a person who treats his guests kindly, but once they leave they gossip about them. The Leaking bucket is like collecting good deeds, the hole in your bucket will make it all leak out, and you will be left with an empty bucket. This Islamic reference is what made me choose this artwork and is what made me feel about it this way.

Part 3:

Sadly I had barely found any information about Gesualdo Gatti, except that his alias is Jesualdo Gatti. Another thing I found out is that he is Italian, and the artwork that I had chosen, isn't anywhere except in the John Ringling museum and that the provenance is with John Ringling; bequest of John Ringling to The John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art, 1936.

Part 4: 

What movement is the artwork associated with? 

Since there is no information about this artwork literally anywhere and I have to make my own analysis, I think he was going for the movement that I had said earlier in Part 2, he wants the viewer to feel anxious/weirded out that he's bailing out a boy with holes. ( my own analysis)

What does the artwork say about the artist that made it?

I feel like it makes him look like someone who doesn't like to waste time if that makes sense. Instead of trying and trying to bail a boat with holes and leaks, he should try to find a better and more efficient method.

Can you tell what the artist was trying to say?

In a way, if he is trying to say not to waste time then yes.

How clearly does the artist get their message across?

It goes by pretty clearly and almost everybody can get the same conclusion that I reached.

Part 5:

What is the importance of this work of art to society and/or the world? Be specific. Why did YOU pick it?

The reason I picked this artwork was stated in part 2, it's really the same reference as the leaking bucket, and how I can not be two-faced about something and waste my own time. I feel like if everyone looked at this artwork in this sense or just life in general, they would be more positive, time-saving, and just a better person in general.

Proof I went to the museum - I emailed Professor Bzura about being out of state and got the go to do a visual visit.

Just a P.S.A - I just wanted to say I'm very sorry about how trashy this sketchbook came out and the only artwork after hours of looking, I actually found meaning to, barely had any facts online. I also have very trashy internet at the cabin and just wanted to point out this assignment took me hours to complete, so please have mercy grading this sketchbook and hopefully, I will do much better for the next one.

-Khader Alherbawi

[ladybirdwithoutdots]

"entirely guided by your treatment of her"

An interesting thing about how The Bates are represented in Emma 2020 is the fact the movie, for the most part, does away with the “poor people look poor” stereotype, and they seem to deliberately try to make the audience truly realize their condition only when Mr Knightley tells us after the infamous box hill fiasco, thus the moment in the story where Emma herself remembers that.  Why did director make this decision?

I have a theory (or interpretation) about that.

First of all, I’ll preface this by saying that while it’s easy for costume designers to fall for the temptation of making Mrs and Miss Bates look visibly poor through their clothes too, thus their appearance, I find the movie making it more subtle might be a tad more realistic (albeit still not 100% accurate but I’ll address this later). Like for Austen herself in real life, the condition of those women wasn’t a black/white poor vs rich kind of situation. Miss Bates wasn’t always poor and even if she is now, she hadn’t lost the respectability of her original position. That she can still dress in a dignified, somehow elegant way, isn’t that surprising for a woman who is still part of that context. She uses more practical, muted dark colors and patterns that would get visibly less dirty than a lot of the things Emma wears, for example, and perhaps she can’t buy herself new clothes all the time or get the most expensive fabrics but like many women at the time, she probably sews them herself and recycles old stuff. No doubt, there is still an artistic license at play here for even her costumes are to be consistent to the over the top, pretty tone and style of the movie overall, so she doesn’t look, at first glance, dramatically more ‘poor’ than the other women of her age there.

However,  I believe the director also wanted people both familiar and unfamiliar with the book to only remember and/or realize her poverty when Mr Knightley says that she's poor. Why? For one, it makes it more impactful if the revelation takes you a bit by surprise, and it makes Emma’s remark seem even more cruel and his words hit different (in large part because of the great line delivery by the actor too that makes you really feel how much he cares, and he’s genuinely sorry for the woman and not just in the mood of arguing with Emma). Up that moment, you only saw Miss Bates as this sorta frivolous character, the compulsive talker who annoys Emma with her endless monologues about everything her beloved niece does. In a way, you (the audience) are "entirely guided by Emma’s treatment of her" TOO and how Emma herself perceives the woman at first, and you don’t feel sorry for her yet, you don’t take her serioustly (and you laugh at that dramatic ‘Mother You Must Sample The Tart’  without even thinking about the dark irony in it). When Mr Knightley reminds Emma that Miss Bates is poor and someone she should feel pity for, not humiliate, it’s almost as if he’s telling that to us too..and it makes us feel unconfortable because, like Emma, we too forgot and made fun of the woman. On a more symbolic level, Miss Bates’ appearance and the illusion that her issues apparently don’t seem to exist at first is still, largely, part of the movie representing Emma's own delusion that her world is “perfect”. It's only when Emma’s world starts to collapse, and she starts maturing and seeing things more clearly (in short, she wakes up), that she (and thus the audience) does see the truth about Miss Bates too. It's a critique as well, a way to remind us to look beyond appearences for many people may look "ok" but they really aren't. Something I’ve noticed, for example, is the fact we see Miss Bates’ apartment two times but I bet you, like me, noticed how sad and poor that place is in comparison to Hartfield only in the second scene where Emma goes to her after box hill. The first time we see their house is when Jane makes her first appearance but you, like Emma, are too distracted by Jane to pay attention to the surroundings that, at first glance, seem nice overall (albeit small).

The second time, however, the camera focuses on the exteriors and Emma herself stops there and looks sad as she seems to realize how poor that place ultimately is compared to where she lives. 

(notice the torn wallpaper and how faded and old it looks. The place looks kinda dark and claustrophobic too compared to how colorful and big her own home is) It’s like in that moment you, like her, are finally seeing it too. Suddenly she feels utterly inadeguate. Even the way Emma gives Miss Bates her gift: her mannerism is like, this is so silly, so insensitive, so little, so inadeguate. How is her basket supposed to resolve anything there? and yet, Miss Bates looks so grateful which makes Emma feel all the more ashamed and little.

A lot could be said about the lack of equality between Miss Bates and Emma in both that scene and the story overall; a lack of equality that I think Emma does recognize in this movie (and in the scene) and it makes her feel unconfortable, like she’s unworthy of the affection that Miss Bates so clearly has for her. Sure, even if she wanted Miss Bates could never afford disliking Emma or not respecting her, and as sad and unfair as it sounds, she could never be angry with her and really defend herself at Box Hill or afterwards. This is something that Emma seems to realize. Their interpretation is, overall, a stark contrast with other adaptations showing Emma help the poor earlier, for example (an excuse to make her seem more likable that is too hard to resist). This movie does try to convey the fact that she may indeed be someone who helps poor people (an aspect only hinted in Emma’s first conversation with Harriet), but realistically speaking she's too young and privileged to truly understand people whose life isn't like her own. I think this is something Austen herself does hint in the book: she doesn’t really give Emma any kudos for the fact she does the decent gentlelady thing of helping the poor in her community; in context, this is something that Austen uses to also emphasize her hypocrisy for she helps the poor but she is still consistently a snob towards anyone she considers lower than herself (eg Miss Bates, the Martins and the Coles). This is a nod to the fact that rich people had always been out of touch with the reality of poor people and in general, those less privileged than them. There is this idea that unless you truly experience something, you will never really understand it. In that sense, Emma can know that Miss Bates is poor from the beginning but she, as privileged and rich as she is, may still not be able to truly relate to that woman and really understand the depth of the issue until Mr Knightley reminds her in that infamous scene. Emma had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her, how can she really understand Miss Bates? In fact, part of her maturation is also her opening her eyes about Jane, and looking past her own jealousy and insecurities to understand that girl’s condition and feel sorry for her and realize she could’ve done more to be her friend and help her in the limits of what she could do. Is Emma good? yes, but she’s still a lady from her time and influenced by her context even in the way she tries to be a good person in her community. Like Darcy, I think what Emma realizes in the end is the fact she hadn’t really been the perfect lady she thought she was, she opens her eyes to a different perspective. She’s disillusioned about herself and ashamed about her hypocrisy and arrogance (which ironically is a big hint that she always was, in fact, good at heart to begin with in spite of her obvious flaws and faults). 

ps: notice that the titles with the seasons are all Miss Bates’ apartment?

(this is the table you can see behind Jane in the screenshoot I put above)

I thought that those titles are always the same, with the same objects and flowers even as the seasons are changing, to symbolize the stillness of Emma’s life. What can better convey the immutable than Miss Bates’ house?  Emma can change her condition and her life if she wants (and she will), while Miss Bates cannot really change her world.

#emma 2020 #emma #miss bates #autumn de wilde #emma woodhouse #jane austen

[bestiesenpai]

tattoo artist sukuna

I am way overdo to get my sleeve finished and I’m already itching to get a full back piece, so this is right up my alley. Gender neutral reader, and if you’d like to see the tattoo style i reference please go to @/novchild.jpg on instagram :)

It was a spur of the moment decision that led you to drive downtown with your friends at nearly midnight, drunk off each other's energy and eager to do something reckless. Speeding down the motorway, you scrolled through Instagram in search of a tattoo artist.

“Are you guys sure about this?” Your nerves had finally caught up to you as the car was parked in front of the studio you all chose. It was a typical brick and mortar building with a large skull painted on the only window to the outside world. There were a few bald men smoking cigarettes right outside the door, scrawling ink covering their exposed hands and faces.

“Yeah, c’mon!” No one waited for you, everyone climbing out of the car in excitement. Slowly, you got out of the car as well, head down as you walked past the men and into the shop.

Loud, blaring metal music met your ears, jarring you upright and tense. There wasn’t anyone you could see at the front desk, the only workers were huddled in a back corner leaning over something and laughing.

“Which one should I get?” Your attention was drawn away from the men in the corner and to the art hanging on the wall, all different flash sheets from various artists. Some were more gory, clearly drawing inspiration from horror movies while other pieces were bright and colorful, like bubblegum pop come to life.

“Hey.” A gruff voice cut through the loud music, and a man was now leaning against the front desk, spiky black hair in a ponytail with a bored look on his face and several piercings in both ears. He was clearly sizing you up, the black bar going across his nose moving as he did.

Unprepared to speak to him, you were happy when someone else stepped in and started chatting about prices. The man at the counter had on a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, exposing one full arm and hand that was completely blacked out.

“Choso, any customers?” Another shouted, a man wide in stature with long hair. He sauntered up to the counter, tight black t-shirt showing off the traditional Japanese work covering every inch of skin.

“Getou, can’t you see?” Choso rolled his eyes and gestured to your little group.

“I can’t make conversation?” Pulling a face at Choso, Getou leaned his elbows on the counter and flashed a wide grin at all of you. “So, who’s the first to get some ink?” His narrowed eyes looked over your bare skin and you could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I am! I want that one!” One of your friends pointed at the wall, making Getou hum and nod.

“That’s Gojo’s work, he loves to draw the cute shit. I’ll call him over.” As a white haired man walked over at Geto’s call, one by one your friends made their decisions and were paired with artists.

“What did you choose, (Y/N)?” A friend asked, seeing you still stuck staring at the wall.

“I don’t know!” Throwing your head back, you were beginning to regret even tagging along. There were simply too many options and the task of picking something was daunting.

“Having a hard time choosing?” A flash of white crosses your vision and soon Gojo is leaning down into your field of vision, piercing blue eyes staring at you curiously.

“U-uh yeah.” Stumbling back from how close his face is, you realize how tall he is when he stands up straight, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Me and another guy just got done making a new flash sheet, lemme show you.” It takes him only a couple seconds to go back to his station and come back with a piece of thick paper with drawings on it.

Taking the paper, the drawings were unexpectedly cute. A lot of them looked like rough sketches or crayon drawings, simple in concept but intricate in detail.

“I’ll take this one.” Pointing at a mid-sized crayon drawing, your mouth ticked up in a smile as Gojo took the paper from you with sparkling eyes.

“That one is so cute, good choice! One sec!” Tossing the paper down, he dashes away shouting nonsensical words towards the back of the shop where they’d all been huddled up. “Sukuna! Someones here for ya!”

Rising straight up from a chair with a loud groan, a shirtless pink haired man glared sharply at Gojo. Even from a distance you can see the sharp black lines tattooed across his face and down his body, circles on each shoulder, dashed lines across his chest down his stomach and around his wrists as well.

“Geez you can really yell, you know that?” Running a hand through his hair roughly, Sukuna stands up, flexing his muscles and unknowingly giving the whole shop a show of his chiseled physique.

“There’s a client here to get a piece we made together earlier.” Shoving the paper in his face, Gojo points to the piece you selected. Sukuna mumbles a few words and sets his eyes on you, walking over with a swagger that makes you nervous.

“Alright, where do you want it?” Leaning close to you, Sukuna quirks a brow.

“I don’t know.” You sigh softly, looking down at your arms and legs. “I don’t-”

“Your arm, right here.” Grabbing onto your arm, Sukuna turns it outward to expose the flesh of your inner arm. “It would look good right here, about the size of my palm.”

“O-oh okay.” Nodding quickly, your face is burning when he lets go. His touch still lingered on your skin, the edge of his black painted fingernails digging in briefly as they squeezed you.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes, go sign the paperwork.” Sukuna speaks with his back to you, already walking to the station he had been sleeping at and setting up. Rushing to fill in the proper papers, you wait nervously at the front of the shop for your turn.

The rest of your friends are already getting started, the whir of the tattoo machines adding to the ambience of the shop. With a wave Sukuna calls you over to his corner, still shirtless with a pair of gloves on.

“Hold out your arm.” Grabbing you once again, Sukuna angles your arm in front of a mirror by the table. Rubbing ointment on your skin, he sticks the stencil on and rubs firmly, making you squirm from the tickle of his hand getting close to your armpit.

“What do you think?” Stepping to the side, he looks at you in the mirror. “Little to the left? Right?”

“No, it’s perfect.” The longer you look at it, the longer you love it. Giving you a pat on the shoulder, Sukuna led you to the table, having you lay down and stick your arm out.

“This your first one, I can tell.” He said, adjusting your body how he seemed fit and rubbing more ointment on you.

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah, only a first timer would get something like this from me.” A cocky grin spread across his face and he gestured to the wall behind your head, covered in realistic black and white portraits. “This is normally my speciality.”

“You drew yourself?” Pointing up at one of the pictures that looked exactly like him minus the face tattoos, you chuckled.

“Nah, that’s my twin.” Your brows rose in surprise and you looked between Sukuna and the picture.

“Does he have-?” You waved over your face and body.

“He’s too scared to get a tattoo, says he’ll get ink poisoning and die.” Sukuna laughed, pouring out the various colored ink into little cups. “Won’t even let me do a tiny dot on him!”

“Safe to say you two are pretty different then.” You found yourself laughing a little as well, eased at Sukunas laid back nature.

“Mhmm, he’s busy going on the straight and narrow while I’m here ‘ruining my body’ as our grandpa likes to say.” Flashing quick air quotes, Sukuna revs up the machine and fiddles with the buttons. “Alright, you ready for this? Won’t have virgin skin anymore after this.”

“Yes!” Clenching and unclenching your fist, you pushed a deep breath through your mouth.

“If you start to cry, I won’t stop. And if you pass out, I’ll just wake you up.” That was his final warning before he leaned forward, using one large gloved hand to spread the skin of your arm taut.

The first prick of the needle against your skin made you jolt, sucking in a sharp breath and making your eyes fly open. Sukuna snorted, wiped your arm with a towel and kept going. Honing in on the marks and exposed pipes in the ceiling, you tried not to twitch from the needle anymore.

“You’re doing pretty well.” Sukuna mumbled, briefly sitting up and dipping in for more ink.

“Really?” Taking a look at the tattoo, you were surprised to see only one line had been done. It felt like at least three were placed into you.

“Yeah, don’t screw it up.” Sticking his tongue out at you, Sukuna went back to work. Transfixed on watching him, you saw the lines go into your skin, overflowing with ink and being wiped away repeatedly. You were also watching the way Sukuna’s arms flexed, the muscles in his body all on display right in front of you.

“Tell me about yourself while you stare at me.” Sukuna said, not looking up from your arm. Immediately, your head whipped away from him and a deep burn ran over your face. Sukuna laughed at your embarrassment, patting your arm with the paper towel a few times.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re not the first one to do it.” That didn’t make it any better. Slapping a hand over your face, you let out an unintelligible noise from the back of your throat.

“Just great.”

“It’s okay to say you have a crush on me, a lot of people that come to the shop do.”

“Sukuna!” Laughing through the shame, you glanced over at him.

“Hey, it’s the truth.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well can you blame them when you’re built like that?” Feeling emboldened by the late night hour, you took a rather obvious look at Sukuna’s body. With only a pair of sweatpants on, you could see nearly all the tattoos he had.

“Aw thanks doll, I work out.” Sukuna shot a wink at you, briefly flexing both arms and making you blush again. “But enough about me, what about you? What made you come here so late at night?”

“My friends and I wanted to do something spontaneous.” Returning your gaze to the ceiling, the ache from the tattoo gun was beginning to settle into your skin. “And what better way to be spontaneous than to get a tattoo?”

“Ha, I hear that.”

“Why’d you get the ones on your face and stuff?”

“Thought they’d make me look cool, and I was right.” Giggling at his honesty, you quickly nodded in agreement.

“The ones on your face, did they hurt really bad?”

“The ones near my eyes yeah, those hurt the most. But thankfully Choso has a steady hand, so it didn’t last too long.”

Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your own face, drawing along the edge of your jaw and eye socket. There was no way you could get your face tattooed as heavily as Sukuna had, if at all ever. You had only just now gotten used to the pain of the needle on your arm and you were still twitching every so often.

“How’re you holding up so far?” Sukuna whispers close to your ear ten quiet minutes later. He’s completely focused on tattooing you yet his face is close enough that if you leaned up a little, you could graze his hair with your nose.

“Fine.” You whisper back, suddenly feeling awkward with the low tone of his voice.

“That’s good doll, real good.” His voice dropped even lower, overcompensating for the song ending over the stereo speakers. Trying not to stare at his serious expression, you look over at the other stations. Gojo is chatting up your friend excitedly, and there’s a number of colorful inks laid out before him. Choso and Geto are hard at work as well, with Choso pointedly not speaking, and a blonde man you’d noticed drinking a large mug of black coffee earlier with his button up sleeve rolled up to reveal two dragons on his forearms.

Just as the pain in your arm was starting to truly burn, the tattoo was over. Sukuna washed it down gently, patting your arm and humming to the song playing. Sitting up with a short grunt, he flicked his head to the mirror.

“Go ahead and take a look.”

Sliding slowly off the table, you held your arm out awkwardly and stood in front of the mirror. Your arm was slightly swollen and stinging, shoulder stiff from being in the same position for so long, but a smile spread on your cheeks.

“I love it.” It looked exactly like the picture: a crayon style drawing of a brown haired girl in a giant green frog, a big pout on her lips while the frog sat on a lily pad.

“Lemme snap a couple quick photos before I wrap you up.” Already with his phone out, Sukuna was quick at taking pictures, posing you like when he’d put the stencil on. “I’ll run down the aftercare stuff with you, also give you a card in case you forget any of it.”

You didn’t hear a thing he said about aftercare. Standing nearly chest to chest with Sukuna while he rubbed ointment on your skin and wrapped your tattoo up, the way his arms nearly wrapped around you to put the cover on, the gentle touch of his fingers pressing medical tape to your skin, even the way he was breathing softly and looking at you - it all had you distracted.

“Alright, you’re all done.” Sukuna patted your arm, breaking you from your trance.

“Thank you so much!” Looking down at your tightly bandaged arm, you could feel the intense heat radiating out of it. You quickly snapped your own picture of the bandage as Sukuna dug around in a drawer.

“And since I could tell you were zoning the fuck out just now, I wrote my number down on the aftercare sheet, so text me if you have any questions.” Holding the paper out to you, Sukuna had indeed scribbled his phone number on the paper in thick black marker.

“Can I really just text you?” Taking the paper hesitantly, you fiddled with it in your hands.

“Of course! I want your tattoo to heal well!” Sukuna nodded, throwing his arms out dramatically. Waiting for you to gather your stuff, he walked you to the front of the shop. “Text me anytime doll, I stay up late.” He whispered right before you got to the front counter, making your jaw drop and ears burn.

“(Y/N), you really got a girl in a frog?” A friend laughed, a bandage wrapped around their thigh.

“It’s cute!” You defended it, holding your arm close to your body.

“The cutest fucking one.” Sukuna added on, slapping the counter and pointing at everyone.

“Aren’t you cold without a shirt on?” Choso mumbled, typing away on his phone in the corner.

“No ‘cause I’m not anemic like you are.”

“It’s still cold outside.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s cold in here!” The two of them quickly devolved into petty squabble, giving each other light hearted shoves in the shoulder while Geto collected the money from everyone.

“Bye, thank you so much!” You all called out as you left, waving goodbye and shrugging your jackets back on.

“I’ll be waiting for that text, doll!” Sukuna shouted right as you stepped out, blowing you a kiss when you whipped your head over your shoulder in shock.

“Text? Were you flirting with him?” A slew of curious looks were thrown your way, making your shock even worse.

“N-no!” You stuttered and immediately grimaced at it, face getting warmer as you climbed into the car. “We were just talking while he tattooed me, he just wants to make sure it heals right.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say. Let’s go to the drive through now, Geto told me to eat something after getting tattooed!”

“Hey check Sukuna’s Instagram story, he already posted your tattoo (Y/N)!”

“Really?” Rushing to pull out your phone, it was indeed true. Sukuna had posted one of the pictures he took of your arm, a few silly frog gifs surrounding it, with the caption ‘painted a pretty doll with a pretty frog, hope they come back for more xx’.

“You two were definitely flirting!” Shouts resounded in the car, everyone giggling wildly at the caption. Giggling along with them, you quickly typed a message to Sukuna.

(Y/N): hey Sukuna this is (Y/N). Thanks again for the frog! And the picture you posted on your story looks really good :)

(Sukuna): no problem doll

(Sukuna): next time you want a tattoo, text me and i’ll draw up whatever you want

“Sukuna said he wanted to tattoo me again!” You announced to your friends, all of them oohing and crowding around your phone. “What should I say?”

“I’ll do it!” Someone snatched your phone before you could say anything, rapidly shooting off a message and tossing the device back to you.

(Y/N): are you free tomorrow?

“He’s not gonna-” Right as you were beginning to shake your head and type another message, he replied.

(Sukuna): for you? of course

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

[goldentournesol]

Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go. 

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story. 

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot. 

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.” 

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly. 

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly. 

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze. 

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him. 

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship? 

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting. 

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation. 

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words. 

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch. 

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset. 

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

#im sorry #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #professor reid #spencer reid fluff #mgg

[lastlenore]

ok im done screaming about kolya ill talk abt the cover because im also chuuya trash

it's pretty obvious that that's a reference to chuuya right? him being in the sheep, once upon a time, all that. also not to have an skk moment but those flowers look like red camellias(associated with dazai and chuuya canonically)

what crushes me is the way it's drawn, harukawa sensei drew the skull to look like it's crumbling, it looks so brittle. it also looks like it's being corroded from the inside, making way for the flowers to bloom. it looks infected.

i think it reflects chuuya right now, as a mindless pawn. it's so heartwrenching that someone so capable like nakahara is simmered down to just another "piece". of course it's terrible that all the other characters with their own lives have to go through this whole war, but chuuya(and the pm) especially.

there's this thing i call the Snape Effect (it's an actual writing thing, i just forgot what it's officially called) that tells writers to basically craft an incredibly human and "quirky" character(likely an antihero), someone with values, morals, friends, enemies and feelings, then kill them off. it makes a death more tragic (this is why Oda's and Aku's death is especially hard to get over, because we saw them as people, we followed thru their experiences only for that all to be cut down)

now whether the authors of bsd created chuuya with SO MUCH depth just to reduce him to a vampire because of popular demand, or because of their own plot, im not rlly gonna comment on. bottomline is that chuuya is as developed as a character can get.

for him to just be fyodor's "power move" is so unfortunate.

but !! im not yet done

it's been mentioned on twt by user @/rum_skk that fyodor's card might be Akutagawa(unlike what one would think—chuuya, because he's very clearly fyodor's pawn atm). while i cant really make out what's on the card(pls tell me if u can!! are the colors inversed??), i agree that it might be aku.

the key to decrypting Harukawa-san's covers is symmetrical symbols, most of the time. it's a thing in graphic novel and manga cover designs. artists need to convey as much as possible about the volume without spoiling anything. they only get one page, so how do they do it? symbols, and oftentimes, symmetry too.

BSD is a plot-heavy story, there's thousands of references that can point to a character or a scene: apples, bandaids, the colors red and blue, yin and yang, etc etc. By drawing those symbols that reflect an opposite context on the other side of the canvas, Harukawa-san maintains the "good and bad" narrative that BSD is going by.

you guys can actually see this in most cover pages/color spreads of BSD, Harukawa sensei loves this technique and i think it's endearing. It's seen with Aku and Atsu(black and white), the PM and ADA's Aura(red and blue), etc.

no back to the picture, here's the main symmetries i can point out,

there's also the (possible) throne angel thing, that supposedly looks over humans and their morals, on the center with one of its swords impaling the sheep skull.

maybe the Throne Angel and Chuuya's symbol being on the center with no symmetrical partner hints that there's a plot hole with Chuuya being just another pawn? maybe the fact that Nikolai and Sigma are looking at Fyodor and Dazai respectively implies which "side" they're on?

^^tbh i dont think Fyodor's gonna die this round, that's gonna be SO unfulfilling and it leaves so many knots untied. As for Dazai, while I think there's lots more bs he needs to take care of, if one of them is gonna die it'd be him.

This might be a stretch and FAR too much over analyzing, but i think there's no way this thirty minute game(which fun fact!! is the quickest recommended duration for one chessgame) will be either of these crazies' undoing. Wouldn't that leave so much plot holes? "why would Nikolai let Fyodor die like that, didn't he plan to use Sigma to find out his ability?? if Fyodor dies, who's gonna keep coercing Fukuchi into world domination? if Dazai dies,,,, well,,,, erm,, who's gonna say sorry to Akutagawa?"

i think Asagiri will pull another twist, like the light snow theory on twt, that would somehow save both these menaces from the poison.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd predictions #nakahara chuuya bsd #cover interpretations #poly overanalyzing eyerolls #bsd volume 22 #i wanted to add things about Sigma too #and why his name is like that #buuuut ill wait till i have a bit more info abt em #tldr BSD creators are both nerds good for them

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK | 15 (FINAL)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 4k

SERIES: CHAPTER 14 | SPECIAL CHAPTER 

"You sure you don't need anything?"

You weren't sure if it was annoyance or amusement that caused you to chuckle upon hearing hesitation in your father's voice.

"I'm good, Appa." You assured him, "it's just Jeongguk. Don't worry."

You were wrong. He wasn't worried because of Jeongguk. He was worried because of you.

"Okay," your father let out a deep sigh as he tried to calm his mind. "I trust your soulmate. Have fun, love."

And just like that, the call ended.

Soulmate.

After everything that had happened, your father still believed that Jeongguk was your soulmate.

You still did too. How could you deny that fact when you could clearly see colors now?

It had been four months since your eye surgery. You didn't think it was going to be a successful, mainly because you were convinced that Jeongguk's hatred towards you was the reason why you went blind.

Apparently, it was your fault.

You knew it was reckless to drive when you were under the influence of alcohol. This wasn't just about you. This was also about the people who could have suffered because of your stupidity.

Your father was actually disappointed in you. He didn't expect you to do something like this, especially because he knew that you had a careful approach in life.

You hated being a burden. Your greatest fear was to be the reason why someone was hurting. Your father didn't understand what ticked you to break out of character, and so he asked. He asked what was wrong—causing you to break into tears.

You couldn't keep this to yourself anymore.

You told him about everything you had been going through—like how your soulmate didn't love you and how stressful being a lawyer was.

Of course your father understood, but he told you that it wasn't an excuse to put yourself and other people in danger.

There were other ways to welcome or ignore pain. You agreed since it wasn't like you planned this to happen.

Your father didn't believe in you, though. He felt like you were trying to harm yourself. This was why he called you every single day. He wanted to make sure that you weren't driving or doing things you weren't supposed to do.

He freaked out when you told him that you were going out with Jeongguk tonight. It wasn't because he hated your soulmate. Admittedly, he felt like you were lying when you told him that Jeongguk didn't love you.

That can't be right. It was obvious. Your father had met your soulmate and he saw the way Jeongguk looked and talked about you. He couldn't be wrong; the boy destined to be with you was whipped—as in madly in love with you.

His claim turned out to be true when right after your surgery; you gasped and cried so hard because finally, you could see colors.

It was too good to be true. Was this seriously happening? Was Jeongguk really in love with you?

You couldn't tell.

You used to think that seeing colors was the indication of your soulmate's love for you, but it had been months now yet Jeongguk hadn't verbally told you that he loved you.

Sure. Actions spoke louder than words. You guessed you just had to be contented with this.

The past four months felt like a dream. Jeon Jeongguk, the most stubborn and egotistical person in the world, was acting like a lovesick fool because of you.

You told yourself that you did not want to love your soulmate. You stood by this. You had been ignoring Jeongguk's attempt to 'win you over.'

(Un)fortunately, the boy just wouldn't stop.

He would send you letters written in a small sticky note every day just to tell you the sappiest thing. On the other side of the sticky note, there's an exquisite drawing of every detail about you.

You realized that it was some sort of puzzle, but you hadn't really had the chance to piece it together because you were too caught up with the words written in the sticky notes.

Note 1 Red Red is the first color in the rainbow. She is my first love, but it ended. I'm saying this because I realized that the start isn't always the end. She’s the beginning, you are my end game.

This was the first note you had received from your soulmate. It was plastered on your front door—this was also the first thing you had seen after you had been discharged from the hospital.

Note 2 Orange Orange is the color I thought I know by heart. As it turns out, I've been fooled. I have been fooled by the world, but it's okay. You helped me see.

This note was unclear to you, yet it didn't fail to make your heart feel light. You weren't aware that Jeongguk was talking about how the florist who sold him orange tulips for almost a decade, the one who fooled him.

No one could take advantage of him now, though. You helped him with this problem.

Note 3 Yellow My mom said that yellow is the prettiest color. She also said that it shines the brightest. I'm glad I didn't believe her. It wasn't bright at all. It only reminds me of the time I thought I'll lose you.

It took you long to realize what he was implying.

Yellow.

This was the color of your shirt when your car crashed. Jeongguk remembered how dark life was when you were pushing him away.

Your soulmate had sent you hundreds of letters by now. All of his notes started with colors. Out of all the things he sent you, the yellow note was what stuck to you the most.

The black world was frightening. It felt cold and lonely and Jeongguk was exactly like that. He was lonely. He suffered from a major heartbreak that was why he turned cold. He hated what Red had done to him, but he wasn't really different from his ex-girlfriend.

Jeongguk hurt you the same way Red hurt him, but your soulmate was willing to do everything to make it up to you.

Aside from the notes, you also found out that Jeongguk was the one who cooked your food each day. You got mad at Red because she failed to tell you the truth. There was even a point wherein you stopped eating the food your soulmate had prepared since you literally didn't want to do anything with him anymore.

Jeongguk was still persistent. He would always pick you up from work and then he would ask if you wanted to grab dinner with him.

You always declined his offer to take you out. Turning him down was always part of your daily routine, so you didn't know what changed this Saturday night.

Why, after four months, did you finally accept Jeongguk’s attempt to ask you out?

"Can't resist his bambi eyes, can you?" Jimin laughed on the other line. Your best friend called right after your short phone conversation with your dad. It was like everyone was interested in your business tonight.

"It's just one date, Jimin," you rolled your eyes, yet the blush in your cheeks indicated that Jimin was right.

You still couldn't resist Jeon Jeongguk.

It wasn't like you were giving into him. No. It would take more than his wide, doe eyes to melt your cold, cold heart. He hurt you after all.

But last night was different.

You were supposed to have dinner with your subordinates since it was Friday, but then you spotted Jeongguk waiting outside the building of your small law firm.

He was standing there with trembling lips. Your soulmate was freezing under the cold winter, yet he still chose to wait for you.

You see, Jeon Jeongguk was banned from entering your office. You told the securities not to let him in since he was distracting everyone at work.

Your employees just couldn't stop gushing over your soulmate to the point that they weren't able to finish their task for the day. They were always trying to get Jeongguk's attention and the most annoying part was that your soulmate didn't seem to mind—not because he was a flirt too. It was actually because he was too naïve for his own good.

So yeah. You banned him from entering the building because he was a distraction and definitely not because you were blinded by your stupid jealousy. No. Not at all.

He was your soulmate, yes, but it didn't mean you had to stay together. The only thing you two should do was to try to be casual and not hate each other.

You couldn't afford to make Jeongguk hate you. This was the only rational reason why you agreed to go out on a date with him tonight. You were just scared and guilty for letting him wait for you in the snow.

"Whatever you say," you could imagine Jimin's teasing expression despite not seeing his face. "Have fun, okay? Love you!"

"Ditto! See you soon," you pressed the end bottom of your phone as your doorbell rang.

Seven pm. You bit your lower lip, glancing at the clock. Jeongguk was right on time. He told you last night that he would be outside of your door at exactly seven in the evening.

You sighed and fixed your hair a little before opening the door.

Jeongguk practiced speaking the things he would say to you tonight in front of the mirror. He swore he prepared so hard because he didn't want to disappoint you. He felt like this was his only shot with you, unfortunately it seemed like he was destined to fuck things up with you again.

"Oh fuck," his eyes dilated upon seeing you.

You were wearing this pretty dress that accentuated your curves. You looked so expensive and exquisite that Jeongguk felt like he was out of place.

Your soulmate was wearing a thick sweater and black sweatpants. His hair was messier because of the winter wind.

"You're not dressed." This was the first thing you said to him. The scowl on your face made him think that you already regretted agreeing to spend this night with him.

He was wrong. You were only frowning because you felt embarrassed. You took your sweet time preparing for this date. You even rushed to buy a fancy dress just this morning, causing you to feel like a fool.

It was clear now that you were more excited than the man who practically begged you to go out with him.

"I-I just thought it'd be better to stay home because of the weather." The boy said sheepishly while showing you the home cooked food he had prepared for this date.

You swallowed hard.

"Come in." And then you opened the door wider for him.

Jeongguk let out a sigh of relief. At least you did not kick him out. He wouldn't know what to do if that happened. He missed your home so much. He missed Miri as well. Too bad the fury pet wasn't around.

Miri visited the Kims' mansion every Saturday. Red picked the cat earlier this day. She said Miri was the only one that could make Soobin smile. Red and Seokjin, the newlywed couple, were only allowed to visit Soobin every Saturday. They always take the little boy to a nice place with your cat Miri.

Jeongguk realized that it was a blessing in disguise that the cat wasn't around since no one was scratching the couch where you and him currently sat on.

Jeongguk's idea for this date night was to simply watch some movies while eating. He thought that this was the perfect plan, sadly it looked like you didn't share the same sentiment.

"Jeongguk," irritation was laced in your voice as you called your soulmate's name.

You were irritated for the reason that you felt like he didn't really want to be here.

Jeongguk seemed preoccupied. It was apparent when you asked him what film he wanted to watch. He simply said 'whatever you want," while staring at you blankly.

You let it pass at first, but you couldn't ignore it now that the movie had ended and it appeared like he didn't even realize.

Jeongguk was silent beside you, but he couldn't sit without fidgeting. The air was awkward. He looked awkward, like he was uncomfortable or something. He wasn't even eating his food.

"Did you like the movie? Were you scared?"

"Uh," Jeongguk was staring again. "I'm...yeah. It's pretty scary,"

"Oh." You narrowed your eyes at him. "I didn't know you were afraid of zombies."

"Yeah. I am," he wasn’t and you knew it.

You huffed, crossing your arms. He was such a liar.

"The movie that we just watched," you gritted your teeth. "Isn't about zombies, Jeongguk. It's not even a horror film. It's Toy Story 4!"

You were annoyed. Why did Jeongguk even ask to be with you when he wasn’t going to pay attention to you or to the things the two of you were supposed to do?

"I'm sorry..."

And there's it again. The insincere apology. He was always sorry, but he never changed.

"You know what? Just go home. I..." You trailed off as tears filled your eyes.

Why did you always have to make a fool of yourself because of him?

"I don't want you here."

Jeongguk's heart sank upon hearing the words that left your mouth.

"No please," he also turned pale, eyes turning wide because he wasn't expecting this date to turn out like this. What he wanted to happen was to enjoy the winter night cuddled with you as the two of you watched a romantic movie.

Jeongguk imagined watching Love 911 to give you an idea of some of the things he wanted to try with you.

"What do you mean no? It's obvious that you don't want to be here. You're not even paying attention."

"It's not like that," he avoided your gaze.

You only scoffed. Typical Jeongguk. Always telling you that you didn't get him.

"Then what is it? Why do you look uncomfortable? Why do you look like you don't want to be here—"

"I told you it's not like that!" He was staring at you using those big eyes. His thin beckoning lips protruded into a pout.

"I just!" He sighed like he found it hard to explain what he felt. "Can't concentrate on other things because all I can think about is you!”

"What—"

He didn't let you finish. Jeongguk was rambling. He was nervous. He didn't want you to get mad at him again.

"Your dress really looks so good on you and your make up is really nice. You're really pretty...and really beautiful and really sexy and I really just...really—"

"Huh." you pouted, slightly cringing because of his excessive use of the word really. "So now you're blaming the way I look?"

You were teasing him to get rid of the funny feeling in your stomach. Damn Jeongguk for confusing the hell out of you. You were supposed to be annoyed, but why were you smiling?

And why the hell was it so easy to melt into him?

"No!" Jeongguk groaned. He was getting frustrated. You seemed to always twist his words and extrapolate things.

"Look..." He closed his eyes since he couldn't bear to look at you anymore. He was scared to see the disappointment in your eyes.

"I just love you okay? Like really, really, in love with you."

Jeongguk's heartbeat doubled when you didn't speak.

Silence engulfed the whole room that he was forced to open his eyes.

His heart went even crazier. It was beating erratically.

Why were you staring at him with an agape mouth?

"What did you say?" You were no longer in the mood to fool around. Sure, you were teasing Jeongguk, but it didn't mean he could also joke about feelings and love.

It wasn't fair.

"I love you?" Jeongguk said, unsure.

He wasn't unsure of his feelings. He just didn't know if you were referring to the last words he uttered.

"You...love me?" You were still in doubt.

Jeongguk simply nodded his head; a soft smile was plastered on his lips as he scrunched his nose. You knew this look well. This was his genuine self and it only meant one thing.

He wasn't lying.

"But..." you bit the inside of your cheek. "This is the first time you told me that."

"I thought it's obvious?" Jeongguk mirrored your confused expression.

He expressed what he felt for you by singing. Jeongguk thought you understood.

You did not. The song lifted your spirit and you also found the gesture sweet, but you still didn't realize it was his way of confessing.

"I mean..." Jeongguk pouted his lips more. "Your eyes tell, right? You can see colors now."

As soon as these words escaped his mouth, Jeongguk felt like he had been hit by a truck—crushing his bones and telling him how stupid he was for crossing the street even though there were signs that told him to stop.

Signs.

The signs had been there all along.

"You love me..." Jeongguk blurted out. His realization was too sudden that he couldn't help but a cry a little.

You panicked as you asked him what was wrong.

"I wasted six months because of how stupid I am!" His answer was unclear.

"Gukkie," you put your hands on the either side of his shoulder, urging him to look at you. "You're not making sense. Speak slowly."

Jeongguk shook his head, tears still painting his cheeks. It was funny how the situation kept on turning around. Just a few breaths ago, you were the one who was on the verge of crying.

"I told you you didn't understand!" Jeongguk was still not making sense, but you decided to stay quiet and let him speak.

It looked like he needed an outlet for the reason that his emotions were overflowing.

"I left b'cause I thought...you...d-din't love me!" He sobbed and your heart cracked.

How could he think this way when all you had ever done was make him feel the love you felt for him?

Jeongguk's twisted expression told you that you had voiced out the question running inside your mind out loud.

"I called you delusional since I believed that you really are," he was bringing back the wounds that you were trying so hard to forget.

Still, you didn't stop him from speaking.

"H-How can you be sure you love me when I myself know that I am not worthy of your love?"

Jeongguk knew that he had always been mean to you. He hadn't done anything to make you fall in love with him that was why he was questioning your feelings.

It wasn't him whom you loved. It was the idea of him being your soulmate. You liked the thought that there was someone out there for you.

It made sense now, though. The fact that he could see colors brightly made him realize that your feelings were real, but it didn't mean he understood your reasons.

Jeongguk stood by his statement. He was unworthy of your love.

"You're not doubting yourself, Jeongguk." You shook your head at him, proving him otherwise. "You are doubting my feelings for you."

This wasn't about Jeongguk's beliefs. This was about you. You grew up thinking that when you felt like everything was collapsing, your only choice was to trust what you feel was right. It's because at the end of the day, you were going to be the one to face the consequence of your actions—not your parents, not your friends, and not even your soulmate. They would be affected by your decisions, yes, but only indirectly.

They could make their own choices that would directly affect their lives even if their choice was based on your decision. People would end up having different results even though they walked on the same path.

"But why me?" Jeongguk sounded broken as he asked this. It hurt you to think that he really thought so lowly of himself.

He couldn't be blamed. He loved Red before; however, it was still not enough. He had moved on from her, but it didn't mean that all the scars would fade away.

His first breakup up caused him to think that despite giving your one hundred percent, it would still be lacking for some people.

But you weren't some people.

You were you and you had your reason.

"Sometimes you don't need a reason to love someone." Your reason was not having a reason at all.

Your soulmate wasn't sure if he agreed to what you said.

Jeongguk didn't believe that just because things existed, it was already valid. Validation cannot be valid if one would not give enough reasons to prove why it's worth validating.

This was the reason why Jeongguk was questioning the love you claimed you felt. He needed reasons. He was just a human after all—always in need of affection and reassurance.

"I mean...I tried thinking of a reason why I shouldn't love you, but I just can't find any." Your confession made Jeongguk blush.

You had always been straight forward.

The way you loved was the opposite of how your soulmate loved. This was probably the explanation why it took him long to admit his feelings for you.

As stated, Jeongguk was in constant need of reason. His drawings of you were his proof of the love he felt.

"If you can't find any reason, then just allow me to tell you the million reasons why I love you."

He didn't wait for your answer. Jeongguk simply moved closer to you. His face was just inches away from yours.

"You're smart." And then he kissed your forehead.

You weren't only a book smart. You were emotionally intelligent. You had taught Jeongguk a lot of things, especially when it came to forgiveness and compassion.

"You're brave." He kissed you left eye.

He remembered the night you told him you liked him. It was in front of many people. You didn't hesitate even when he was running away.

"You're patient and understanding," he kissed your right eye.

You tried to understand Jeongguk's annoying attitude.

"You work hard in all aspects." He kissed your nose.

"You're beautiful," he kissed your left cheek.

You really were. Inside and out.

"It's you,"

Jeongguk didn't know if he could love someone who wasn't you.

"Most importantly, I love you because you are my soulmate." And then he kissed you on the lips.

You laughed in between the kiss, but you didn't stop kissing him back.

Did you forgive him?

The answer was yes.

Were you ready to love him again?

Perhaps.

Were you still hurt by his actions before?

Yes.

Did you want to be with him?

Yes.

There were many questions flooding your mind right now. Some of your answers might not be the truth, maybe you were just too happy right now—caught up in the moment because you were in Jeongguk's arms again.

But it didn't matter now because one thing was sure.

You were willing to love Jeon Jeongguk again because you didn't want to repeat his mistake.

You didn't want to lose your soulmate just because of hatred and denial.

Things were clear now.

Jeon Jeongguk loved you and the world was no longer black and white.

 BONUS: (a poem made by young OC that made her realize why she should trust her own feelings)

holy. after 6 weeks???? i’m finally done writing this baby. wow. thank you thank you everyone for reading this—especially those people who never failed to send me feedback. i love you all!

New fic alert! READ HERE >> SAVE ME - Demon!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader

YES. I LIKE USING BTS’ songs as the title of my fanfics. 😅

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #btsjungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook story #jungkook fic #ficswithluv #jungkook roommate au #jungkook roommate #jungkook romance #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook soulmate #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook e2l #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook sugar baby au #jungkook x you #your eyes tell #bts your eyes tell #jungkook your eyes tell #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x mc #jungkook fantasy au

[jayeray-hq]

Bass Down Low

Hey everyone! Welcome to my part of the new NSFW Anilysium Server Collab! The theme for it this time is "Band/Tattoo/Badass"! Please check out some of the other amazing writers and artists in the collab by following the link!

If you like my writing for Terushima, check out my other stories in his character masterlist!

Tattooed Bass Guitar Player Terushima x Sassy Confident fem!reader

Tiny tiny bit of angst, but mostly fluff and smut

Warnings: NSFW 18+ minors dni! Grinding, dry humping, making out, slight exhibitionism, switch Terushima, switch reader, male nipple piercings, cock piercing, blowjobs, cunnilingus, overstimulation, vaginal sex, biting, scratching/pain kink

13K+ words

You could feel the bass as it thrummed through the air, making your whole body feel like it was vibrating. The energy was absolutely electric as you soaked in the music and the wild energy of the crowd as it pulsed and moved around you. Bodies were packed in fairly close and you could feel sweat dripping down your back, sticking to your neck and dewing at your temples.

Glancing over you saw your friend sandwiched between two good looking people clearly having the time of her life, lips locked with the person in front of her as they all ground together. You huffed in amusement, glad the two of you had already agreed you’d need to find your way home separately, otherwise you had the feeling you might’ve accidentally been left behind, that or you’d be the awkward third party to whatever was going on there.

Still despite how difficult leaving was going to be, and the sticky feeling of your clothes on your sweaty skin you didn’t regret coming for a minute. You’d been looking forward to coming to this music festival for ages and now that you were finally here you couldn’t get enough. Some of your favorite bands had played, and there were going to be even more in the coming days, you couldn’t wait.

You let yourself move with the music, swirling and rocking your hips, hands in the air as a bubble of laughter burst from your lips. You felt almost drunk on euphoria despite not touching a single drop of alcohol. You’d decided early on not to drink anything but water because you didn’t want to miss or forget a single moment of the experience.

A warm hand settled on your waist, pulling you out of your rhythm and you glanced back, to see someone standing behind you. It was full dark out, the only lights the ones coming from the stage, and a few overhead. However, despite the darkness you could make out an angular jaw, dark eyes and the golden color of his hair, along with the black ink creeping out of the neckline of his tank and up his throat, and spiraling down his shoulders and arms.

Just the sight of all that pretty ink was enough to make you feel incredibly attracted to the stranger, but the fact that he hadn’t come right up and started grinding on you without so much as a by-your-leave was definitely a bonus in your book, a courtesy you fully intended to reward as you rocked your ass back into the cradle of his hips, grinding yourself into him.

“I’ll take that to mean I can dance with you, sexy?” he half-asked, half-shouted in order to be heard over the music.

You didn’t bother to respond verbally, not wanting to shout to be heard, instead flashing him a smile, and grabbing hold of his other hand setting it easily on the curve of your waist. You noted with fascination and a pulse of liquid heat that he was wearing several rings on his fingers and had tattoos on his hands as well.

He was a surprisingly good dancer, his body moving fluidly with yours, hands resting solidly on your hips, just enough to flow without taking control of your movements. They never strayed from your hips either, remaining firmly in place as the two of you moved. You lifted your hands into the air and leaned back against his chest, finding a solid wall of lean muscle as you hooked one of your arms around his neck and curling your fingers through the surprisingly silky strands at the back of his head.

Your entire body felt hot, and when you turned to look at him, the intense look in his dark eyes sent a pulse of desire through you. You weren’t sure if it was the music, the adrenaline, or the heat of his hands on your hips, but you surged forward to press your mouth to his.

He met you eagerly, his mouth hot against yours, as you continued to grind back into him automatically. The hands on your hips pulled you closer removing any distance between the two of you, so that your ass was pressed right up against the cradle of his hips, and you could feel his solid length, hard against your rear.

You moaned into his mouth, incredibly turned on, as he took over the rhythm of your grinding, taking advantage of your open mouth to tease his tongue against your upper lip. You immediately jerked back in surprise, pulling yourself out of his grip so you could turn around.

It was hard to tell, but you thought your dance partner looked startled by your sudden departure, his hands raised as if to show he meant you no harm. You weren’t at all worried about that though, thoroughly distracted by what you’d thought you felt, You surged forward, guided by the press of the crowd and looped your arms around his neck.

Closer now you could see his eyebrows arched in surprise, a glint of wariness in his eyes that disappeared as your hand caressed his jaw, thumb gently pressing on his lower lip in question. He immediately flashed you a cocky smirk, and opened for you, sticking out his tongue and revealing the metal you’d felt against your lip.

“That’s so hot,” you told him, your lips pressed close to his ear so he could hear you.

“I know,” he shouted back with a smirk, before surging forward to reclaim your lips again.

You met him eagerly, immediately opening your mouth, eager to see what he could do with the enticing piece of jewelry through his tongue. He didn’t disappoint, tongue twining and rubbing against yours, the slick sensation of metal strange but not at all unpleasant as he teased it expertly over your tongue.

You hummed in delight as you twined your arms around his neck, fingers running through his hair as you pressed yourself tightly up against him, not even bothering with the music anymore, thoroughly distracted by the taste and feel of him against you.

His hands dipped lower, sliding into the back pockets of your jeans and when you didn’t protest he began to knead your ass, using his grip to hold you tight to his hips and press himself against your belly. You leaned against him, bracing more of your weight so you could lift one of your legs and wrap it around his hips, earning a groan of pleasure that you felt more than heard, the sound rumbling through his chest.

Your hands dipped lower, feeling the strong muscle of his back, and letting your head tip to the side, as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin as his lips found the column of your throat. Breathy sighs and gasps left your lips as you ground your hips against him, seeking friction for your aching cunt. You could feel how wet you were, and were suddenly grateful you’d worn shorts rather than a skirt otherwise you would’ve been dripping down your thighs.

You whined as he found the perfect spot on your neck, hands digging into his back as he nipped and sucked at it, teasing it with the smooth metal of his piercing as his hands guided your hips in just the right way to stimulate your clit, the seam of your shorts pressing into you deliciously with every movement of his hips.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were absolutely sure you could come just like this. Unfortunately right as you were about to reach your peak the roar of the crowd took an upswing, and you realized the band that had been playing was finished. You grimaced at having to stop, but figured you owed the band its due recognition. They’d been very good, and so you applauded and cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

The announcer told you there would be a quick fifteen-minute break before the next set, and you turned toward your dance partner, an offer to leave together and finish what you’d started on the tip of your tongue only to find the most horrified look on his face. Your heart dropped, wondering if you’d somehow done something wrong as his face swiveled between you and the stage.

You’d been about to back away, thinking you might as well use the crowd to escape the awkward situation you were in, when he surged forward to grip your hand.

“Come with me?” he half-asked, half-demanded, a determined light in his eyes that made you a bit nervous.

“Come with you where?” you asked, suddenly wary despite the fact that you’d been about to offer the same thing just seconds ago.

“I don’t really have time to explain,” he told you sheepishly, “But I swear you’re safe with me. Just trust me for a bit and I’ll show you exactly what this baby can do.”

He waggled his tongue at you for emphasis, brandishing his piercing, and you couldn’t help the snort of amusement that left you. You searched his face for a few seconds, but in the end decided, despite his slightly rougher appearance that there was an earnestness in his gaze that you felt could be trusted.

“All right,” you agreed, “But if you try anything funny I’ll kick your ass.”

“That’s hot,” he told you, a little wide-eyed and clearly lustful, not the reaction you were expecting, “I knew you were something special little miss sexy. Don’t worry, the only thing you might have to be afraid of is how any other man will measure up after you’ve had me.”

You huffed a laugh at that, amused despite yourself, and a little turned on by his confidence, as you agreed, “Well then, how could I say no to an offer like that? Lead the way then mister hot shot.

He flashed you a delighted grin that was more boyish and charming than you’d expected as he moved to do as he was told, keeping a strong grip on your hand as he expertly weaved his way through the crowd. You got a little worried when he started to lead you out and around, worried about the slowly thinning herd of people, which would mean a lack of witnesses if something went wrong.

However, he didn’t lead you out and away, instead pulling you towards a security guard who was chatting with a worried looking man with neat dark hair and glasses, whose eyes were darting around, clearly searching for something or someone.

His worried look faded away into relieved exasperation as he spotted the two of you, his eyes skimming over you briefly before turning all his attention to the man dragging you along by the hand, “Terushima! How many times do I have to tell you, you can’t just go wandering off right before the set starts!”

“Relax Anabara,�� your guide, whose name was apparently Terushima, told the older man, far too casually for someone who was being lectured, “I got back in time didn’t I?”

“Barely,” Anabara hissed back, “you’re cutting it awfully close. Why do you need to go wandering off anyway?”

“Wanted to get a look at the stage and get a feel for the crowd,” he admitted with a shrug and a grin, “Energy’s way hot tonight, and I managed to run into someone interesting too.”

That immediately redirected both of their attention to you. You were still clutching Terushima’s hand, but were starting to feel like you shouldn’t be, as you finally put two and two together, your hold on him loosening slightly in response as you turned to him and blurted, “You’re in a band?!”

“You’re looking at Johzenji’s best bass player, and main song writer,” he told you smugly, a pleased smirk on his face.

You tried to find words, but couldn’t, utterly flabbergasted. You’d heard of Johzenji, an up and coming band who had a wild energetic sound, and you’d listened to and liked some of their music in preparation for the festival, but you hadn’t actually looked up the band members themselves.

“The rest of the band is waiting,” Anabara told him, clear impatience in his voice as he gestured for the blond to follow, “The rest are all warming up, you need to be out there too.”

“Yeah, yeah keep your hair on,” Terushima told him with a smirk before turning to you, “Come on, I’ll get you all settled backstage, it’ll be the best seat in the house I promise.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” you told him, grip loosening on his hand in preparation to let go, acutely aware of the disapproving gaze of Anabara, who you assumed was a manager of some sort, boring into the side of your head.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer,” you told him hurriedly, as the smirk slipped off his face leaving something disbelieving and a little hurt in its place, one that tugged your heartstrings, which was surprising considering you’d only known him for an hour or two at most, “But you need to get going. Good luck with the set I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

“W-wait!” he managed to catch your hand before you’d completely tugged free, his eyes, which in the light you could now see were a pretty cinnamon brown color, were pleading as he asked, “Please come back with me? I know I sprang this on you out of the blue, but I really felt a connection with you. After the set, we’ll clear things up, so just come watch me okay?”

The more rational part of you wanted to scoff. He was really laying it on thick, cheesy line after cheesy line. You’d found each other in a crowd, danced and made out for a bit, that was all. So maybe you’d felt a little something too, it was the reason you’d let him lead you away from the crowd, but that was just the music, the energy of the crowd right?

Your eyes flitted to where Anabara was standing, but Terushima apparently caught your intention and shifted his hand to block your view, the tattooed appendage coming up to push a strand of hair behind your ear, this thumb caressing your jaw, eyes boring into yours as he asked, “Please?”

Against your better judgement you found yourself nodding, almost hypnotized by the incredibly attractive man, whose every touch seemed to send tingles of electricity through your veins. The smile he offered you was another of those delighted boyish grins and you found yourself tugged along behind him again. To your surprise Anabara didn’t bother to protest, simply shaking his head, sighing and following along behind the two of you.

It was incredibly busy backstage as everyone hustled around in a kind of coordinated chaos as one band left the stage and Johzenji got ready to enter. True to his word Terushima found you a spot that would give you a good view of most of the stage, pressed a water bottle into your hands and a quick surprisingly sweet kiss to your lips before bounding off, though not before assuring you, wide smug grin back on his face, that you were in for the ride of your life.

You watched as he bounded over to people who had to be his bandmates, idly sipping at your water, and taking everything in. One of the guys immediately captured Terushima in a headlock, playfully wrestling around for a bit, the group tussling together, before a sharp word from a pretty girl holding a clipboard sent them all scurrying off to warm-up.

For someone so seemingly lighthearted, Terushima was surprisingly serious as he started to warm up, picking up his black bass guitar, the yellow and white tribal pattern on the body a clear imitation of the ink that bloomed over his fingers. His face was extremely concentrated as talented fingers plucked at the strings, dancing over the instrument with ease and familiarity. It was incredibly attractive, and you couldn’t help pressing your water to your neck, hoping it would help cool you down a bit and stop you from salivating.

You were slowly but surely acclimatizing to the fact that he was in a band, your shock wearing off and leaving the burning attraction you’d felt from the very first moment he’d put his hands on you in the crowd bubbling to the surface again.

“Impressive, isn’t he?” the words jolted you out of your enraptured staring at his fingers, and made you realize the pretty girl from before had come to stand next to you. She was still holding her clipboard, and her eyes weren’t on you, but on the band flitting between members, clearly checking in on them.

“I mean yes?” you said hesitantly, unsure why she’d decided to speak to you, and a little uncomfortable with the look on her face, which was set in a frown.

“So where’d he pick you up?” she asked sharply, clear disapproval in her eyes as she turned toward you, “The parking lot? Hanging around the trailers? Get caught sneaking back stage? Let me tell you something groupie, you’re not going to get anything else from Terushima or from Johzenji, so enjoy the show or whatever, but make sure you get lost after.”

“What?” you asked, baffled, but unwilling to allow yourself to be cowed in the face of her tirade as you snapped back, “As a matter of fact I was out in the audience minding my own business. I didn’t even know who Johzenji was before I got tickets to this music festival! I didn’t know who Terushima was until Anabara said something, he was the one who came up to dance with me not the other way around, so I suggest you back up with your assumptions.”

The girl looked surprised, brown eyes wide in her pretty face as you huffed out an annoyed sigh, your displeasure overtaking your more base urges once again as you questioned whether you should be there. A quick glance at Terushima showed he was still entirely focused on his warm-up, he didn’t look like he’d notice anything let alone you.

You didn’t belong here, and both Anabara and whoever this girl was had made it pretty clear you weren’t welcome either. It didn’t help that her words implied that Terushima brought girls back pretty often, so much for ‘feeling a connection’ it really had been the line it sounded like. You couldn’t help the slight bitterness of your thoughts as you wondered how many women he’d used it on before and feeling a bit stupid for falling for it.

If it looked like a duck, walked like a duck, and quacked like a duck, odds were it was a duck. Terushima looked like a stereotypical bad boy with an overinflated ego, swaggered like one, and even laid down stupid, misleading lines like one. While you’d technically only hoped to get a good lay out of this and nothing more, you did have standards.

That in mind you decided, no matter how good the music was or how exciting it had initially been to be back stage, it wasn’t worth it. Spinning on your heel you began to walk away, fully intent on writing it off as a bad night, and feeling more than a little bitter about how running into Terushima had decidedly ruined your night and your enjoyment of the festival.

“Where are you going?” the question was voiced by a familiar male voice, Anabara had apparently come up beside you some time while you were lost in your own head, making quiet plans to never support Johzenji ever again, “Surely Terushima told you not to wander around back here?”

“I’m leaving,” you informed him flatly, utterly fed up, “I wasn’t entirely comfortable coming back here in the first place, and now I’m even more uncomfortable, so if you could point me to the exit I’d appreciate it. Hell, you can even have security escort me to make sure I don’t do anything weird since you’re all apparently so paranoid about it, but I would very much like to never see you or anyone else involved with Johzenji ever again please and thank you.”

Anabara’s eyebrows, which had been settled in a disapproving frown, immediately flew upwards in shock, seemingly rendered speechless, though you weren’t sure if that was for your words or the rude tone you’d used. A part of you felt bad for it, but you were at the end of your rope, one make-out session and the promise of a night of good sex wasn’t worth all this drama no matter how talented he was with his tongue or the backstage pass he’d gotten you.

“You can’t leave,” the girl blurted out, hurriedly maneuvering in front of you and holding her arms out to seemingly block your path, “You have no idea what that will do to Terushima if he looks over and you’re not here! It’ll throw his entire performance off!”

“Weren’t you the one who just called me a groupie and implied I was some kind of whore he picked up in the parking lot?” you asked sarcastically, “Forgive me if I don’t give a shit.”

“Really Hana?” Anabara asked heaving a pained sigh at the girl, whose name was apparently Hana, “I understand not approving of Terushima’s habits, but this was neither the time nor the place, and she shouldn’t have been the one you brought it up to. It’s not her fault.”

You relaxed a bit at that, surprised but pleased, some of your anger seeping away. A lot of times women got blamed for men’s promiscuous behavior, when the man was the one to blame. You were glad to see it wasn’t actually like that here.

“You’re right,” Hana agreed, with a pained grimace before turning to you, “I apologize, I was rude. The last few women Terushima brought back either stole things, or decided to act crazy and possessive both with Terushima and with other band members. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s alright,” you assured her, even as your opinion of Terushima plummeted even further. If he had that kind of history no wonder she’d been so upset and on guard when she saw you. You would’ve been angry too if you had to deal with that, your anger with her leeching away, “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot.”

“You have no idea,” she told you fervently, heaving a sigh before pleading, “Please, will you stay? It really will throw Terushima off if you’re not here, and while he might deserve that, the some of the other band members don’t, and the audience certainly doesn’t.”

You grimaced, a little unsure. While you didn’t feel nearly as angry or bitter as before you also still had standards. If you stayed it would imply you wanted to have sex with him, which at this point was pretty much off the table.

“If it helps, Terushima may be a player with terrible taste in women, but he won’t pressure you if you say no after,” Hana assured you, apparently reading your mind.

Thinking about it, and the respectful way he’d danced with you, and kissed you always courteous you found you agreed with what she said, and before you knew it found yourself agreeing to stay, much to Hana and Anabara’s visible relief.

Hana quickly guided you back to your spot, and much friendlier now, began to explain some of the things that were going on as the band got set up. She also named the members for you as she realized you’d told the truth and didn’t actually know who any of them were. You found yourself liking the kind, if stern girl a lot, and the way she was clearly a huge fan, both of the band and the music they made, had you hyped up right along with her, ready to see what they could do.

The energy between her and the crowd which were starting to slowly become more and more hyped up as it became clear the band was going to start, was absolutely electric, and you could feel yourself getting hyped up again.

Terushima, who’d seemed to be in his own little world the moment he’d picked up his instrument, finally glanced up as the lead singer, who you suspected was Hana’s boyfriend from the way she’d gushed about him earlier, tapped him on the shoulder clearly asking if he was ready.

Even from the distance you were at you could see the cockiness in Terushima’s smirk as someone plugged him into the amplifier. His fingers immediately moved over the strings, playing a dizzying array of notes and cords in quick succession, the sound loud enough to feel in your bones earning an immediate roar of approval from the audience, which somehow sounded even louder from the stage than it had been when you were standing with them.

Terushima gave the audience a tongue lolling grin flashing his piercing to them, his eyes cutting over to where you were standing with Hana. You raised an eyebrow at him finding yourself drawn in, in spite of yourself giving him a challenging smirk of your own and a ‘bring it on’ gesture clearly inviting him to give you this so called ‘ride of your life’ that he’d promised your before. He looked shocked for a second before a wide grin crossed his face, clearly accepting your challenge.

You watched a little enthralled, the way good music always made you feel as they started to play their set, your hips beginning to rock automatically to the sound of the bass. Up close you could see why Johzenji was shooting to the top, it was clear they were all talented and passionate about their music throwing themselves into it with everything they had.

However, despite wanting to look at the others your eyes seemed almost magnetized to Terushima, drawn back to him each and every time no matter what. It was clear he was having the time of his life, jumping all around the stage, flashing that pierced tongue, his dexterous fingers working over the strings of his instrument in a way that was utterly enthralling as a part of you wondered if his skill with his fingers might translate over to something a little more carnal.

It didn’t help that he kept glancing over at you, his gaze clearly a challenge daring you to try to look away from him. There was something hot and heavy in his eyes, something that told you the answer to your question was yes, and that he couldn’t wait to show you.

You could feel yourself getting almost unbearably hot in a way that had nothing to do with the heat of the lights bleeding off the stage, or the summer night air, your body seemingly pulsing in time to the music and the notes of his bass guitar. The air practically electric, your skin hypersensitive as if you could feel the waves of sound on your skin.

You hadn’t realized their set was long enough that they were doing a fifteen minute intermission of sorts where band members would chat one by one with the audience, talking about their music and answering a few fan questions they’d gotten on their Tweeter account.

Thus you were entirely unprepared when Terushima set down his instrument and came bounding off stage. You barely had time to blink before he was on you, strong hands finding your hips, slipping into the back pockets of your jean shorts to grope your ass as he pulled you close.

His lips were on yours before you’d really had time to process, and you found yourself returning his kiss enthusiastically, unable to resist his magnetism and the electric feeling of his hands on you and his lips on yours. One of your hands tangled with his hair and you tugged it, not caring a bit about the sweat slicked strands, well aware you were equally sweaty, too enraptured by the heat between the two of you to care about a little sweat.

It was only when a loud cough broke through your lustful haze that you remembered that you weren’t supposed to be kissing Terushima at all. You quickly pulled away, kicking yourself, both for your loss of composure and for making a scene in front of all his bandmates outside the lead singer, who was the only one on stage at the moment, and Hana who was watching the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“So you’re the girl huh?” one of his bandmates asked, eying you with interest.

“Yes, she’s female,” Hana cut in, to your relief, “And you can gawk later, you have less than ten minutes to get yourselves refreshed so you can take over and Okudake can have his well-deserved break too.”

Terushima groaned, and while Hana’s stern look sent the others scrambling to obey, he was clearly more resistant as he refused to let go, clinging on to you in a way that almost would’ve been cute if you hadn’t cottoned on to what a womanizer he was.

“Well?” Hana demanded, hands on hips, “You heard me Terushima, get a move on.”

“Go on,” you urged, moving to extract yourself from his hold.

“No way!” he protested, turning betrayed eyes on you, his grip firming for just a minute before reluctantly starting to loosen, “You haven’t even told me how amazing I am yet.”

“I guess you’re not bad,” you told him with a casual shrug, unable to resist teasing even as the more rational part of you was screaming about how this was a terrible idea, and that you had no plans of having any sort of relationship with him sexual or not, so shouldn’t be flirting with him.

“Not bad?” He squawked, clearly outraged, “I’ll show you not bad little miss sexy, I told you I’m gonna rock your entire world.”

“You’re not going to be rocking anything if you collapse from dehydration hot stuff,” you informed him dryly, shoving at his chest until he let go, though he was clearly pouting about it, “Go. Water, snacks, refresh, move it.”

“You’re as cruel as Hana,” Terushima told you, sulkily, before plastering on another cocky smirk as he acquiesced, “But fine, I’ll do what you say, so long as you promise not to take your eyes off me for the second half of the set.”

“Sure, sure,” you agreed with a casual eye roll, unable to keep amusement from bleeding into your voice as you ushered him away. He went, though not without one last toe curling kiss and a quick grope of your ass.

“You’re really good with him,” Hana’s speculative voice distracted you from watching Terushima walk away, and you felt heat in your cheeks as you realized she’d caught you gawking at him.

“I uh….” You floundered, trying to find the words to defend yourself, especially when you’d been so adamant before about not having sex with Terushima.

“It’s okay you know,” she assured you, a strange look on her face that you couldn’t quite decipher, “You wouldn’t be the first to get swept up in his charisma, and no one could blame you for having a casual fling. I certainly can’t judge given my own relationship.”

She had a point. It was your body after all and one night couldn’t hurt, especially with the chemistry between the two of you, still you did have some concerns.

“He’s clean if you were wondering,” Hana informed you casually, apparently fully able to read your mind despite only knowing you for an hour or two at most, “Terushima’s always been a player, but he’s also always been meticulous about his health, and the reputation of the band. He may act like an irresponsible idiot when it comes to women, but the band means a lot to him.”

“He does seem really passionate about it,” you acknowledged, refusing to think about the heat in your cheeks or the way your eyes kept coming back to Terushima as he hurriedly gulped down his drink and horsed around a bit with the drummer before charging back out on stage to interact with the audience.

“The band means everything to all of them,” Hana told you, with a fond smile for Okudake who only paused for a moment to kiss her cheek before heading for refreshments, confirming your suspicions about their relationship, “It’s their dream.”

“I can see that,” you mused thoughtfully, watching as Terushima practically bounced around the stage like a child on a sugar high, hyping up the audience like none other.

“I think maybe I might’ve given you the wrong impression earlier,” she admitted, the words making you pull your attention away from Terushima and focus solely on her, “Terushima isn’t actually a bad guy, he’s just terrible when it comes to women he likes. Despite how he looks he can be an absolute sweetheart.”

“You know you’re going to confuse me with all this changing around you keep doing,” you teased lightly, “Before I thought you would rather I burn at the stake rather than have sex with Terushima and now it almost sounds like you’re encouraging me to go for it.”

“I didn’t know you earlier,” Hana dismissed, a flush in her cheeks, clearly a bit uncomfortable with your observation even as she tacked on, more to herself than to you, “And I’ve never seen him interact like that with a woman before.”

You didn’t get the chance to question her about it, or really process what she’d said as the band took that minute to start the music back up, and the audience gave a lively roar. Terushima gave you an almost too conspicuous wink and a cocky smirk before turning back to what he did best, tattooed fingers flying over the strings again.

Once more you got caught up in the beat, the rhythm of his bass as it hummed through your body, and the heated looks he threw your way whenever he got a spare second, clearly checking to make sure he had all of your attention. You lost yourself in it, you were here to enjoy the music, and like hell were you going to let anything, even your preoccupation with the sexy bass player, get in the way of that.

It seemed like the whole thing ended far too soon, as the last chords faded into the night, the roar of the crowd as the band gave their goodbyes almost deafening in conjunction with the fireworks going off overhead. The minute the lights were down, the band members quickly passed off their instruments as staff, including Hana, swarmed the stage, ready to begin tear down for the evening.

Johzenji had been the last band scheduled for the night, which meant everyone would be going home. The buzzing of your phone reminded you of your friend and a quick glance confirmed your earlier suspicions, that she was going home with one or both of her earlier dance partners. You sent a quick text back urging her to be safe, and hesitated for a long moment before finally telling her that you had your own hook-up for the night.

She congratulated you, and you grinned, amused and fond, sliding your phone back into your pocket and just in time as Terushima’s hands snagged you around the waist, pulling you close again. There was a delighted smile on his face, open and boyish that told you how incredibly pleased he was with himself and his performance, and looking at it you knew in that moment you’d lost the internal debate. No way were you going to be able to walk away, not when he was looking at you like that.

You could vaguely hear his bandmates wolf whistling at the two of you as you pulled him down to kiss, tangling your fingers in his sweaty hair, but ignored them entirely, too intent on the humming electricity between the two of you and his hot wet mouth, the feel of his piercing a sensation you were coming to adore as you flicked it with your tongue.

His hands were all over you, roaming your back and occasionally dipping lower to knead your ass, his firm chest pressed tightly against your own. You could feel his hard length, fully aroused and clearly more than ready for you, pressed firmly into you, the idea of it making your body clench with need, wetness soaking your panties.

“Oy, get a room,” Hana’s voice cut in, clear exasperation in every word, catching your attention as the two of you parted for breath, “No one wants to see that!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Terushima told her casually, rolling his eyes a bit, though you shot her a sheepish look, earning an amused one in return, before being thoroughly distracted again by the sexy blond bass player as he released you just enough so that he could snag your hand, and you found yourself tugged along behind him for the second time that night as he told you, “Come on little miss sexy, let’s see if I can’t give you that ride I promised you.”

“Lead on then hot shot,” you told him with a laugh, only pausing to shoot a quick wave at Hana, who just shook her head in clear exasperation, though you thought there was something of a smile on her lips too.

This time you weren’t nearly so worried about following him, and weren’t too concerned when he led you back and away to a parking lot that was full of trailers with few if any people. Even without knowing him for too long you could tell which was his at a glance, considering the outside was covered in stylized graffiti that read Johzenji surrounded by tribal work.

It didn’t take him long to fumble the door open and lead you inside, and you were relieved to find that the interior was apparently nice enough for air conditioning. It wasn’t much, a queen sized bed, bathroom, and a couch with recording equipment and various instruments scattered everywhere, but it was better than you’d been expecting. Honestly you thought he might’ve shared space with the other members of his band, and were pleased to find it wasn’t true, mostly because you’d hate the idea of kicking someone out just so you could get laid.

You didn’t get much more time to think about it as you were immediately distracted by Terushima, who’d attached his mouth to your neck the second the door had been closed and locked behind the two of you, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive column of your throat. You let out a low moan as he nipped at your collarbone, fingers twisted in the fabric of his black tank, digging into the strong muscle of his back and shoulders.

A gasping moan escaped your lips as he sucked at your collarbone, his hot mouth like a brand against your skin in the almost too cool trailer. You slid your hands down his back, eager to get your hands on his skin, and to see more of the ink that adorned his body, slipping your hands under his tank and tugging upwards.

Terushima seemed to get the hint, giving you a smug look as he pulled away just enough for you to tug the damp fabric up and over his head. His torso was nicely toned, lean but firm with muscle, and adorned in black ink that crept downwards from his neck, covering his upper chest and shoulders, though you noted his abs were bare.

Your fingers automatically moved to touch, tracing the lines down from his neck, and over his shoulders, utterly fascinated. It was beautiful work, a mix of tribal and Japanese style work. He shivered slightly, though whether that was from your touch or from the cool air on his warm skin you couldn’t tell.

You probably could’ve spent hours exploring his tattoos, and would’ve except you got distracted by the glint of metal. Bright silver barbells glinted in each of his dusky colored nipples, catching all your attention, and sending a jolt of heat through you as you wondered if he had anything else pierced.

“Like what you see?” Terushima asked, his voice full of smug superiority as he brushed a teasing hand down his chest, a cocky smirk on his face.

A part of you really wanted to wipe that look off his face, and you thought you might know just how to do it. You hooked your fingers through the belt loops of Terushima’s jeans and tugged him forward by them, earning a delighted chuckle from the man before you reclaimed his mouth.

Your hands immediately went to his abdomen, gently scraping your nails over the ridges of his abs and earning a full body shudder from the man, who’d buried one of his talented hands in your hair, the other caressing your side.

The feel of muscle under your fingers as you skimmed your palms up his chest, letting his pebbled nipples catch on the webbing between your fingers, teasing the nubs gently between your fingers earning a low needy moan from Terushima, his hips thrusting into yours, reminding you how utterly hard he was and sending a burst of heat through you.

You pulled your lips away from his, earning a discontent whine from the man until he felt your lips on his throat. He tilted his head with a low groan, allowing you full access without protest, as you traced your lips over his tattoos. His skin tasted like salt from the sweat, but it wasn’t unpleasant, as he smelled clean beneath it, something warm and masculine that made your passage clench with want, and need.

Your hands roamed down his sides, and over his back, unable to keep yourself from touching him as you sucked and nipped at the junction of his neck, adoring the quiet moans and breathy gasps from his lips. His hand in your hair was gentle, not guiding or pushing simply allowing you to do as you pleased with him even as his fingers gently tugged, his grip occasionally tightening in a way you found extremely arousing whenever you nipped at him or found a particularly sensitive spot. You continued your exploration downward tracing a path down to his collarbone then lower across his pectorals and finally to your goal.

“Aw fuck,” Terushima whined as you pulled his pebbled nipple into your mouth sucking at the sensitive nub, swirling your tongue around it and playing with the metal piercing as your other hand found his other nipple, fingers toying with the matching barbell, unable to keep your hands away from it.

“Hng! You like those little miss sexy?” he teased, though he was breathless enough that it barely constituted teasing, “I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off me, should’ve known from the way you acted when you got my tongue piercing, but if you like that wait until you see my…”

He cut himself off with a whine as you teased him with your teeth, gently scraping them over the sensitive nub and tugging at it carefully as your other hand gently flicked and tugged at his piercing. You were a bit curious about what he’d been about to say, though you had a sneaking suspicion you’d find out when you got him completely naked.

Curious, you decided to stop playing with his piercings for now and began to kiss your way down his chest, bracing your hands on his sides so you could slowly lower yourself, tracing your thumbs over the sharp v of his hipbones as you traced his treasure trail to where his pants were sitting low on his hips.

You carefully scraped your teeth over the taught skin, kissing and suckling hard, well aware you were going to leave marks and not caring in the slightest that unlike the ones you’d undoubtedly left on his neck and chest, these were going to be much more visible due to his lack of tattoos there.

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” Terushima praised with a shudder as he stared down at you, pupils blown wide and lust written all over his face, a loud groan leaving his lips as you cupped his erection through his pants, teasingly stroking it through the material as you looked up at him, unable to help the smirk curling your lips at the sight of him, his lips puffy and swollen from kisses, hair damp and sticking to his forehead and beautiful inked skin glistening with perspiration.

Looking at him, you could see how he coaxed so many women into his bed, between his looks and his musical ability it was no wonder he was so cocky. Still despite how many people he’d been with before he was with you at the moment and you were going to make the most of it.

Your fingers deftly undid the button and zipper of his pants and you turned to look up at Terushima amused and a little shocked as you asked, “You go commando on stage?”

“What can I say,” he told you with a proud smirk, “I’m a rebel.”

You huffed out an amused laugh and ran a teasing finger up his shaft, gently stroking the underside his twitching cock which had left precum smeared inside his pants and his lower abdomen. Just as you’d suspected there were piercings here as well, a Jacob’s ladder of three separate barbells, right under the head.

The sight left your mouth watering, and you licked your lips, fully intent on blowing his mind, and playing with those lovely piercings, but when you went to lean forward you were stopped by the grip he still had on your hair.

“Something the matter?” you asked, genuinely concerned as your hands stroked at his strongly muscled thighs, the gesture meant to be soothing as you peered up at him and asked, “Do you not want me to suck your cock hot shot?”

“There is nothing more that I want right now than to have that sexy mouth of yours all over me,” he told you, the low rasp of his voice and his lust darkened gaze utterly convincing, “But I said I was going to give you the ride of your life little miss sexy and I intend to follow through on it.”

“Oh?” you asked teasingly, thumbs tracing over the sensitive place where his thighs met his hips, “You think you can?”

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” he told you with a cocky smirk, one that fell away into a full body shudder as you leaned forward, grasping his leaking cock at the base and running your tongue teasingly along the underside.

“I think you’re the one who doesn’t know what they’re in for,” you told him, with a smirk of your own as you stroked your hand upward and used your thumb to tease the sensitive place where the barbells passed through the skin right under the head earning a low moan.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, as he recovered, a grin on his face that was boyish and reckless, “But I won’t know until I try.”

Amused and intrigued you let him go and allowed him to pull you to your feet and reclaim your mouth with his, reminding you just how skilled he was with his tongue as he kicked off his pants, shoes and socks and began to talk you slowly backwards towards the bed. He proved to be either extremely coordinated or practiced or both as he managed to coax you out of almost all of your clothes except your soaked panties by the time the back of your knees hit the bed.

You let yourself fall backwards, plopping on to the surprisingly comfortable mattress, and smiling into Terushima’s kiss unable to pull yourself away, thoroughly distracted by his talented mouth and the warm hands that were skimming up and down your sides, thumbs occasionally teasingly skimming the undersides of your breasts.

You held him to you, his face cradled in your hands as he crouched over you, one knee braced on the bed, and the other still planted on the floor as his hands dipped lower, finding the waistband of your panties, and teasing his fingers along the edge.

“What are you waiting for,” you teased between kisses, “A written invitation?”

“Only your permission little miss sexy,” he teased right back with a smug grin, hooking his fingers through the elastic and giving a gentle tug.

Something about his tattooed fingers in contrast with the pretty lace panties you’d decided to wear was extremely hot and sent a surge of lust through you, as you lifted your hips and watched as he peeled the sodden lace away from your soaked core.

As they fell away his hands came back up to your thighs, and you couldn’t look away from the contrast of his darkly inked hands, adorned with several silver rings glinting against your smooth thighs.

You didn’t protest as he gently pushed them open, revealing how utterly soaked you were, instead leaning back on your elbows and spreading them further to give him a better view.

“Fuck,” he hissed eyes riveted on your most intimate parts as if he was unable to look away, his pierced tongue darting out to wet his lips, and his eyes dark with desire, “You’re so fucking sexy.”

“You’re not so bad yourself hot shot,” you countered even as his words and the hungry look on his face sent a surge of heat through you.

“I’m gonna eat you out so good you’re going to be screaming my name,” he promised, his thumbs caressing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he started to drop to his knees.

“Ah-ah,” you scolded, pulling yourself away, scooting backwards on the bed and away from him.

“You don’t want it?” he asked, looking a cross between shocked and a toddler who’d been denied his favorite treat.

“The only way you get your face between these thighs is if I get that lovely pierced cock in my mouth,” you informed him challengingly, holding out your hand to him in a clear gesture to come join you on the bed.

His face immediately lit up, a wicked grin on his face as he agreed, “Sounds like a fair deal to me sexy lady.”

It took him less than a second to join you on the bed, and he agreeably laid back for you, hands folded behind his head, body on clear display without an inch of shame, the smirk on his face telling you he was well aware how hot he looked spread out like that, all pale skin, dark ink, and silver piercings, he practically oozed bad boy sex appeal.

“Got your seat all ready for you,” he goaded, tapping his lips and wiggling that pierced tongue at you enticingly.

You laughed in helpless amusement, earning a tongue lolling grin in turn from the sexy bass player, who was clearly unbothered and supremely confident in a way you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive.

He coaxed you up , letting you straddle his face, his head propped up on the pillows to make things easier, his face pressed into your thigh, nipping and suckling at the sensitive skin as you got yourself settled and being thoroughly distracting, though not for long as you wrapped a hand around the base of his weeping cock, the head drooling precum.

He let out a muffled groan as you slowly began to stroke him, licking your hand to help ease your passage as you stroked him, soothing your thumb over the place where the barbells passed through his skin with ever stroke and teasing your fingers along the head, massaging the weeping slit teasingly with your index finger.

Terushima didn’t let you completely take control though, and the first swipe of his tongue made you jolt in surprise, the feel of that little piercing completely foreign as the smooth ball dragged across your sodden folds. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, and you had the strangest feeling he might actually fulfill his promise of giving you the ride of a lifetime, as he dove in eagerly.

He lapped and sucked at the lips of your cunt, the slurping noises he was making utterly obscene as he held your hips firmly in place, keeping you still as he ate you out with enthusiasm and a skill you had to admit he was right to be proud of. Every stroke of his tongue lit your nerves on fire as he teased it around your clit, lightly flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and varying up his strokes and the pressure with every swipe, enough to make your thighs tremble and to make you grateful you weren’t attempting to stand or you were sure your knees would’ve given out.

You weren’t about to let him take over entirely though, instead lowering your mouth to his cock and beginning to tease the weeping slit with your tongue as you continued to stroke him, flicking each of the barbell heads in turn and sucking at the sensitive ridge around the head.

The low moan he let out as you popped the head into your mouth and began to suck sent immediate vibrations to your drenched pussy, making you moan in turn, the feeling of it indescribable as he lapped at your folds sucking at the sensitive lips and thrusting his tongue into your weeping hole.

The feel of his piercings grazing against the roof of your mouth was a new one, but not unpleasant as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could, stroking what you couldn’t reach with one hand the other tracing light teasing circles with your thumb on his inner thigh.

Skilled fingers parted your lower lips as his tongue teased your clit, slipping one finger then two into your hole, making your walls flutter and clench around the intrusion. You moaned as he proved to be just as skilled with his fingers as you’d wondered earlier when you saw him playing his instrument, playing you just as skillfully with the perfect pressure, and movement to hit just right as he crooked his fingers into the soft tissue at the front of your passage that instantly had you seeing stars your whole body convulsing in his hold.

You completely lost track of what you were meant to be doing as you keened, his fingers refusing to let up as he continued to tease them in and out of your rippling passage, his tongue equally relentless. You weren’t sure if you were squirming to move towards him or further away as he carefully eased you back from your orgasm, though not letting you go completely, keeping you right on the edge of pleasure, your body hot and aching in his hold.

Once you managed to come back to your senses you could practically feel the smugness radiating off him as he continued to tease, startlingly considerate of your oversensitive clit, just enough stimulation to keep you worked up without being to painful.

You weren’t about to let him be too smug, instead turning back to what you were doing before, working him over, allowing your saliva to drool down over his cock to make the passage of your hand easier as you stroked him at the base.

Your other hand left his thigh and instead went to his balls, cupping and weighing the sensitive sack in your hand, gently massaging it earning an almost pained groan from Terushima, whose thighs you could see were clenched tightly, his muscles rippling under your torso as his body tightened in pleasure, his balls drawing upward in your hand letting you know how close he was getting.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, sexy I…!” he tried to interject, clearly attempting to warn you, surprisingly courteous as ever. He didn’t get a chance to finish though as you released his balls and slipped your hand lower, teasing your fingers lightly over his perineum as you sucked hard at his sensitive head, your thumb pressed firmly to his piercings in a move that made him keen with pleasure, his body practically arching off the bed as he came in your mouth.

You quickly swallowed every bit you could as you milked his cock rubbing and massaging at the glans as he continued to come, until you felt the last tiny spurt against your tongue, and the keening sounds he was making reduced to trembling whimpers.

You released him and wriggled away from his weakened grip so you could look at him, swiping some of the cum that had leaked from the corners of your mouth away with your thumb, and earning a low moan from Terushima, who watched with heavy lidded eyes as you licked it off.

“Fuck, you’re really asking for it little miss sexy,” he told you, his voice pitched low as he sat up, wiping his own glistening cheeks and chin, which were covered with your release on the back of his arm.

“Asking for what hot stuff?” you teased with a pleased smirk, one that was wiped off your face as he coiled and sprung, gently knocking into you so you pitched backwards on to the bed, his hands pinning your wrists on either side of your head as he peered down at you, his eyes burning with desire.

“Asking for me to make you scream my name,” he assured you with a smirk, “To fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“You think you can Terushima?” you goaded, completely unphased at being pinned beneath him.

“Yuuji,” he informed you seriously nuzzling his face into your neck in a gesture that was surprisingly affectionate, though the wicked grin you could feel against your skin most certainly wasn’t as he clarified, “Call me Yuuji, little miss sexy, it’s only right for you to scream my first name.”

“Give me all you’ve got then hot stuff,” you challenged, earning a delighted smirk from the man, who pulled back to give you another searing kiss, clearly uncaring about the taste of himself in your mouth or sharing your own release with you.

Given how often he seemingly brought women home you weren’t at all surprised that he had a huge stash of condoms in the drawer of the nightstand of the bed, in all different textures and some in different flavors that made you highly amused. Though you didn’t stay that way for long as he expertly slid the condom on and approached, gently tugging you toward him and pulling one of your legs over his shoulder as he teased the head of his cock over your dripping entrance.

The feel of him as he entered you had your head lolling backwards, the angle he’d chosen ensuring he went deep, the feel of his piercings, that you could feel even through the condom, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

“Like that?” he teased as he seated himself deep inside you, his voice breathless but still teasing as he demanded, “Like the feel of my cock inside you sexy? You’re so fucking tight I can feel you squeezing me.”

“Fuck me, hot shot,” you ordered clenching around him deliberately, impatient after all his teasing, wanting to feel him move inside you, to know how his piercings would feel as they rubbed against your inner walls, as he fucked you.

“You asked for it,” he warned you, as he gave a sharp thrust of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips.

He didn’t bother to let you adjust more than that, drilling into you, setting a hard, fast past that left you gasping for breath, his cock stretching you deliciously, every movement rubbing his piercings along your insides. His tattooed fingers dug into your thigh as he held your leg over his shoulder.

“Feel so good, squeezing around me like that, you’re so fucking tight around my cock and so wet for me,” he praised, panting for breath as his dark gaze practically drilled into you, as he ground his hips into you, letting you feel every inch of him.

You hummed in agreement, your other leg wrapping around his hips, pulling him in close as your hips moved in time with his as you panted, your hands twisted in the comforter beside your head, unable to tear your eyes away from him, the ripple of muscle underneath his inked tattoos and the drops of sweat as they dripped down his neck and chest were utterly mesmerizing.

“Fuck me,” you gasped, “Fuck me!”

He paused in his movements slowly grinding himself into you making an inadvertent whine slip from your lips as he scolded, “I told you to call me Yuuji, let me hear you say my name.”

You might’ve chosen to deny him, but he’d dipped his other hand down, skilled fingers gently teasing your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that had your walls fluttering around the hard cock buried to the hilt inside you. Pride warred with pleasure as your pussy ached, desperately wanting him to move again, to give you more of the heady friction and the feel of him moving deep inside you.

“Yuuji,” you relented your voice husky with desire and want, though you weren’t about to give in entirely, instead stretching your hand out for him and ordering, “Come here, Yuuji, kiss me.”

He immediately relented, leaning forward, taking your leg with him, your thigh pressed to your chest, his hips beginning to drive into you again so deep it took your breath away as he braced an elbow beside your head, the other cupping your face and holding you still so he could press his mouth to yours.

You moaned into his mouth wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you clung to him, savoring the feel of his hot skin beneath your hands as your fingers dug into the muscle of his back.

“Ah fuck,” Terushima hissed as he pulled away from your mouth, arching into your hands, his hips jolting hard as you dug your nails into his back. You would’ve felt sorry about it, but the look in his eyes told you clearly that he’d enjoyed the little bit of pain, his hips stuttering as you carefully raked them downwards.

“Do you like that Yuuji?” you purred into his ear, nipping at his jaw.

“Not as much as you like this,” he countered, utterly breathless as he thrust into you hard, the feel of it making you mewl in pleasure, “Like it rough, don’t you little miss sexy?”

“Just as much as you,” you managed to retort, utterly breathless, earning a huffed laugh from him, as he leaned forward to catch your lips in another sloppy kiss.

The lewd sound of your hips as they met, breathless moans and quiet swearing filled the air between you as Terushima worked his hips deep into you, his free hand slipping between the two of you to tease your clit again, as you yanked on his hair, unafraid now to be a little more rough with him the way he was with you, his teeth sinking into your neck in retaliation, earning a yelping moan from you.

“Yuuji, Yuuji,” you gasped, feeling yourself pushed towards your peak, the coil in your belly pulling tight as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, clinging to him for all you were worth.

“Fuck yes,” he panted, his voice a low rasp, clear strain in every word eyes locked on yours, “Give it to me sexy, let me see you come on my cock.”

You did as he asked your walls clamping down hard on him, a gasping cry pulled from your lips as he buried his face in your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased his own end, clearly right on the edge himself. He gave a shuddering, moaning gasp into your ear as he came, his cock throbbing inside you and prolonging your own release.

For several long moments the two of you lay locked together, your hands absently stroking his hair as he rested nearly the entirety of his weight on you, the two of you desperately attempting to catch your breath.

Eventually he pressed a thankful kiss to your cheek, a surprisingly affectionate gesture before rolling off, quickly disposing of the condom in the small trash can by the bed, one no doubt specifically for that purpose.

You were a little surprised when right after taking care of it he immediately rolled back over to you, slinging a hot arm around your waist and pulling you close. You’d had one night stands who liked to cuddle a bit in the afterglow, and were feeling pretty good yourself, so you didn’t mind a bit, letting him pull you close and stroke his hand up and down your back.

Neither of you said anything, simply basking in comfortable silence and each other’s presence. However, after a few moments you noted his breath had evened out and his hand had stilled. Carefully propping yourself up on your elbow you noted with some amusement that he’d passed out.

It was understandable, frankly after how high energy the concert had been it was a little shocking that he’d had enough energy afterwards for this. A part of you wondered what he’d be like when he had a bit more energy to devote to things, after all this had been one of if not the best one night stand you’d ever had and definitely in your top ten for sex. However, you quickly shook that thought away.

You spent several moments trying to decide if you wanted to let your own eyes shut and doze off for a while, but in the end decided to carefully extract yourself from his grip, figuring it was less awkward to sneak off now than to potentially be kicked out by Terushima, or worse Hana or Anabara in the morning.

It took a second to find your clothes, and in the end you didn’t bother with your panties, instead dropping the garment into the same trash he’d used to dispose of the condom, before slipping on the rest of your clothes. A quick glance around proved you hadn’t forgotten anything and you took one last glance at Terushima, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed.

You felt strangely bittersweet about leaving him, as you’d actually liked him, far more than you’d expected. Still, you weren’t stupid, and with everything you’d heard and seen from him you knew you were just one girl in a never ending parade of girls who’d grace his bed. Quietly you slipped out of the trailer, letting the door close softly behind you so you wouldn’t wake him.

It had gotten cooler since you’d been outside last, a nice breeze springing up that raised goosebumps on your exposed skin. It felt nice, and with the moon full and bright overhead you weren’t worried about losing your way as you quietly made your way back towards the concert venue, knowing you’d be able to find your car fairly easily from there.

“Where are you headed off to?” a quiet voice asked, the suddenness of it nearly making you jump out of your skin.

You whirled around, heart racing in your chest, only to find the leader of Terushima’s band Okudake holding his hands up in clear surrender, an apologetic look on his face. You let out a relieved breath clutching a hand over your still racing heart, glad to see it was someone you knew, if only vaguely.

“Sorry about that,” he told you sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him, “I just didn’t expect to see anyone out here.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with a wry chuckle, “But where are you off to? It isn’t safe for a young lady to be out by herself this late.”

“I’m uh, heading back to my car,” you confessed sheepishly, wondering if he knew he sounded like your parent.

“Terushima should’ve at least walked you,” he told you with a disapproving frown, “he’s usually more courteous than this.”

“It’s alright,” you hurriedly assured him, feeling more than a bit awkward as you admitted, “He’s asleep.”

“Ah,” he told you, the single word letting you know that he knew exactly what you were doing, sneaking off without confrontation, though he didn’t comment, instead offering, “Then at least let me walk you? I’ll feel better knowing you aren’t alone.”

“Ah sure,” you agreed, a little baffled but touched by his kindness.

“So what did you think of the show?” he asked casually as the two of you made your way toward the stage.

“It was amazing,” you assured him with a grin, utterly sincere, “the energy was off the charts and the songs were all incredible.”

“You didn’t think there were too many songs about love and heartbreak?” he asked, watching you from the corner of his eye. He clearly read the startled expression on you face because he quickly explained, “We’ve been told we have too many songs about it considering the genre of our group is more rock and our image is harder.”

“I don’t think so,” you assured him, you hadn’t really noticed before but now that he said it you did remember a lot of songs about heartbreak, “I think heartbreak is a pretty universal feeling, so there’s nothing wrong with having lots of songs about it. It’s not something that should be limited to things like genre.”

“I agree,” he told you with a firm nod, “Though I think it would be nice to sing about happiness in love once in a while.”

“So why don’t you?” you asked curious, wondering if this was another issue with love and happiness being the opposite of the more hardcore image they presented.

“Terushima is our main song writer,” he explained, surprising you quite a bit, “And he refuses to write from anything but his own experiences.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he hastily assured you, “We’re grateful to have him. Before Terushima we were a little Podunk band that was going absolutely nowhere. He’s a big reason why Johzenji is getting so popular, even if he does have his difficult moments at heart he’s a good guy that has done a lot for us.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked slowly, feeling a little bit like you were being led into a trap and wondering if you were about to be attacked the way Hana had snapped at you earlier.

“Because Hana told me what happened earlier and I think she might’ve given you the wrong impression,” he explained sheepishly, “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, and she’s an amazing woman but she and Terushima have never quite seen eye to eye.”

“What do you mean?” you questioned utterly baffled about where he was trying to take this.

“I mean from the outside looking in I bet it does look like Terushima’s a player, the last kind of guy you’d ever want to have any sort of relationship with, the kind who only wants women around for a night,” he told you, heaving a sigh and staring up at the night sky, “But it isn’t true at all.”

“Terushima just falls in love far too easily,” he continued, clearly seeing the skeptical expression on your face, “He feels connections with people, latches on, and doesn’t want to let go. Other than the women who’ve snuck out, not a single woman has ever left his bed without his phone number even the ones who really shouldn’t have gotten it.”

“So what he’s a closet romantic?” you asked unable to help the slight sarcasm in your tone, biting back against the pointed comment about you sneaking out without letting Terushima know.

“Something like that,” Okudake agreed, completely unbothered by the bite in your voice, “But more importantly I wanted you to know he likes you, genuinely.”

“If he’s such a romantic, then why doesn’t he have a partner already?” you pointed out, your head unwilling to believe him, even as your heart desperately wanted to.

“Mostly because he has abysmal taste in women,” Okudake informed you bluntly.

“Thanks,” you drawled, sarcastically.

“No,” he hastily assured you, clearly a little flustered, “Normally Terushima only chooses women who want to use him for something or another, either because of his fame or his looks. Hana was rude to you earlier, but she did have good reason to be suspicious of any woman Terushima brought backstage as they’ve been pretty trashy pretty much every single time.”

“But Hana likes you this time,” he charged on, clearly determined to get it all out, “And she’s always had good taste. I think the two of you could be good together if you wanted to give it a shot, and it would be nice to have Terushima write something that isn’t about heartbreak for once.”

“So what you want me to put a leash on your bass player?” you asked skeptically.

“No, I’m telling you he likes you, not just as a one night stand, but as a potential partner, so you know the option is there,” he explained patiently, “And because I think you like him too.”

His words stopped you in your tracks, and you wanted to snap at him, demand to know how he could just assume that as he couldn’t have seen you with Terushima for more than five minutes max. However you also knew he was right, you did like Terushima, a lot, you’d felt a connection to him too, and you really hadn’t wanted to leave. You’d just assumed he’d kick you out if you didn’t.

Now though his bandmate was saying something entirely different, insisting that Terushima was looking for more than a one night stand. The question was, did you believe him and if you did was it worth trying.

You stared at the sky hoping it could give you some kind of answer as Okudake watched and waited patiently. Thinking about it, all you could see was his face, the flash of cocky smirk, the sweet boyish grin, and the intensity in his eyes when he looked at you. He was flirty and confident and surprisingly respectful and sweet and your sexual compatibility was off the charts.

The more you thought about it the more you realized you were more than a bit infatuated with him. The only question now was what you were going to do about it. The thought of walking away now made your heart ache, and you’d never been a coward, so you heaved a breath, turned to Okudake and asked, “Can you take me back to Terushima’s trailer?”

The lead singer smiled kindly at you, and thankfully didn’t comment, simply turned around and led the way, wishing you a quiet but genuine good luck, and inviting you to have breakfast with the band in the morning.

Slipping into the trailer, you’d half planned to simply slip back into bed with Terushima, who you fully expected to find conked out on the bed. Instead you found him sat at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers buried in his blond hair, defeat and despondency in every line of his body. A part of you had kind of doubted what Okudake had said before, but looking at him now you thought maybe he’d been telling the truth after all.

The sound of the door as it clicked closed behind you made Terushima’s head jolt up, an utterly miserable expression on his face until his eyes focused on you, misery quickly replaced with befuddled awe, like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey, hot shot,” you greeted softly, unsure what to say, but needing to break the silence.

“Hey,” he returned, attempting to give you a cocky smirk, though the expression fell flat, “You forget something?”

“Can I come in?” you asked, gently, relieved when he gestured for you to help yourself.

You quickly slid your sandals off and made your way to the bed, not bothering to sit on it, but instead sinking to your knees in front of him, earning a surprised look. You reached for his hands and he gave them easily, twining his fingers through yours.

“So a little birdie told me I might’ve made some assumptions about you that I shouldn’t have,” you admitted, peering into his face.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, watching you carefully, “What kind of assumptions?”

“Like maybe you weren’t just looking to hook-up with a stranger for a one night stand tonight,” you confessed, feeling a bit anxious but doing your best to hide it, “Like maybe you weren’t trying to use ridiculous lines one me and maybe you really did feel a connection.”

“Is that why you ditched me before I could even ask for your number?” he asked with a huff of that was probably supposed to be a laugh but sounded surprisingly painful, “Because you thought I was looking for another notch in my belt?”

“Yeah,” you admitted guiltily, heart squeezing in your chest.

“It’s my fault,” he confessed tiredly, “I should know better by now than to jump right into bed with the people who catch my attention, but I thought if I could show you how good we could be, then you might want to stick around. Stupid huh?”

“I could’ve talked to you too,” you consoled then gently teased, “The sex was pretty good though.”

“What are you saying, it was fucking mind-blowing,” he smirked, regaining some of his cocky demeanor.

“Eh, I’ve had better,” you told him, earning a surprisingly cute pout from the bass player.

“Then I guess you’ll have to stick around for a while, so I can show you what I can really do,” he proposed casually, though you could see the tentative hope in his eyes.

“I guess I’d better,” you agreed with a grin, “Though on one condition.”

“Name it,” he agreed eagerly.

“I want a proper date,” you told him, “And your phone number.”

“That’s two conditions little miss sexy,” he teased, his eyes alight with desire and a surprising amount of affection, “But I suppose I can agree if you call me by my name again and agree to be my girlfriend.”

“It’s a deal Yuuji,” you agreed, leaning up to press an affectionate kiss to his lips, one he accepted eagerly, you pulled away before the two of you could get carried away grinning at him like an idiot, well aware that he really should be asleep.

It took a bit, but the two of you managed to get settled into bed together again after you re-shed your clothes, cuddled up close, with Terushima laying half on top of you claiming it was so you couldn’t run off on him again. You’d huffed, but allowed it, enjoying the proximity and his warmth.

He was quick to doze off again, face pressed into your neck, and you found yourself drifting too, contemplating just how lucky you were to have found him, and looking forward to what the future might bring.

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#terushima yuuji x you #terushima yuuji x reader #terushima yuuji #yuuji terushima #terushima x you #terushima x reader #terushima smut #terushima fluff #terushima yuuji fluff #terushima yuuji smut #alternate universe #band au #JayeRayWrites #JayRaySpice

[gaylorlyrics]

Taylor x Joni : Blue

Yesterday was the 50th anniversary of the release of the Joni Mitchell album Blue - which is widely regarded as one of the best albums of all time. Joni pushed the boundaries of music genre and soul baring poetry in her highly confessional tracks.

Taylor has mentioned being influenced by Joni several times, so I am here to do some analysis on how Blue influenced Taylor Swift.

“I used to cry about Joni Mitchell all the time after a few glasses of wine,“ Swift says. "All my friends would know, once I started crying about Joni Mitchell, it was time for me to go to bed.” (Rolling Stone, 2014)

It's rumored that Taylor first listened to Joni in 2009, while she was working on Speak Now, after a critic told her that she needed to "listen to Blue by Joni Mitchell" and then quoted her several lines from "A Case of You" to spark her interest.

We know that she was strongly influenced by Joni after hearing the album and while writing Red. Taylor even mentions Blue in her journal entries from the Lover release.

"I've been thinking a lot about getting older and irrelevancy and how all my heroes ended up alone. I wrote a song on the plane ride from Sydney to Perth on the Appalachian dulcimer I bought the day of my flight. I bought it because Joni played on most of her Blue record. I taught myself to play "A Case of You"."

This parallel comes through very clearly given that the title of "Red" and the album cover both pay tribute to "Blue". The titular colors, the close up of the artist's face looking down, and even the fonts and the stacking of the title on top of the artist's name are all similar.

I would even argue that Taylor's hairstyle for Red was inspired by Joni's iconic long, straight, blonde hair, and bangs.

And finally, Blue ends with a song called "The Last Time I Saw Richard" - a beautiful ballad about healing after heartbreak. Taylor seems to have been very strongly influenced by this song. Even though Taylor has a song called "The Last Time" on Red, I actually think that "Begin Again" is the song that "The Last Time I Saw Richard" inspired. I would even go so far as to say that the line "he always said he didn't get this song, but I do" is about "The Last Time I Saw Richard" (that's just a guess but I feel like it checks out!!)

Taylor even goes as far as to name check James Taylor, one of Joni's exes and a collaborator on Blue.

Both songs are about healing after heartbreak. "Begin Again" seems to pick up where "Richard" left off. In "Richard" Joni's companion tells her that "all romantics meet the same fate someday/cynical and drunk and boring someone in some dark cafe". Joni counters him, insisting that love and romance still exist, and that he deserves love. In the final line in "Richard" Joni reminds us that even when we're upset and have been hurt we will find love again. The final song and lyric on "Blue" reminds us that it's "only a phase, these dark cafe days".

In the final song on "Red" we also find Taylor in a cafe, where after "8 months thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end On a Wednesday in a café, [Taylor] watched it begin again". After her own dark cafe days Taylor picks up where Joni left off and starts a new relationship.

#Taylor swift #joni mitchell #blue #red