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sudhama566 · 1 year

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square bright bar

What are the benefits of the free-cutting square bright bar?

Steel is among the most widely used materials in the field of manufacturing and construction. Mainly constituting carbon and iron, steel is well known for its low cost and high tensile strength. With the advancements in technology, we have been able to develop several grades and types of steel. One of those is free-cutting bright steel.

In industrial terms, the free-cutting square bright bar is one which has more sulfur content in it than the carbon. When compared to steel which has a higher percentage of carbon, these free-cutting square bright bars come with a higher percentage of sulfur and phosphorous in them and are easy to cut through. The cutting process makes it possible to use the bars in the manufacturing as well as the construction industry. In order to make sure that the free-cutting square bright bar is sturdy and does not give out any troubles, the steel of the bar is mixed with either lead or tellurium to develop an alloy. This helps in increasing the mechanical properties and the features of the free-cutting square bright bar. These steel products are also known as free-machining steel by a wide range of industries.

Uses of the free-cutting square bright bar

Depending upon the various grades of free-cutting steel, the uses, and applications of the free-cutting square bright bar in the industry also vary. One important thing to note is that the free-cutting square bright bar is used without any kind of heat treatment or with a limited amount of tempering in order to relieve the stress that can form during its production. In the industries, these free-cutting square bright bars are used for making nuts, bolts, and spare parts for the automobile industries, and for making some precision instruments or other kinds of instruments that are being used by several companies.

Bright Bars are an important type of free-cutting steel that has paved its way into the market. The free-cutting square bright bars are widely used by several industries for the use in the production of the above-mentioned instruments and parts. As this type of steel forms chips when it is worked on, it can take up only an average amount of heavy-duty items at a time. When they are sold in the market, the grade of the free-cutting bright bar varies with its composition. Sulfur or phosphorous are the two important types of ingredients that are added to the steel, apart from some little amounts of carbon as well.

Different types of the free-cutting square bright bar in the market

The different types of free-cutting square bright bars that are currently available in the market include,

● EN1A

This type of free-cutting square bright bar comes in two options. One is the leaded free-cutting square bright bar, and the other is the free-cutting square bright bar. These are mostly available in circular or hexagonal shapes in the market. The free-cutting square bright bar can fit for making nuts, bolts, and parts for some precision instruments.

● EN1AL

This type of free-cutting square bright bar is the leaded type of This type of free-cutting square bright bar. These are basically steel bars that are alloyed with lead to enhance their finish and extensive mechanical properties. They are highly resistant to corrosion and other external agents as well. As they do not rust easily, free-cutting square bright bars are mostly used for making parts for automobile components.

● EN8M

This type of free-cutting square bright bar has sulfur added to it with a medium amount of carbon. These bars are used for the manufacturing of shafts, gears, studs, pins, and gears.

Wrapping Up

What are the benefits of the free-cutting square bright bar?

Uses of the free-cutting square bright bar

Different types of the free-cutting square bright bar in the market

The different types of free-cutting square bright bars that are currently available in the market include,

● EN1A

● EN1AL

● EN8M

This type of free-cutting square bright bar has sulfur added to it with a medium amount of carbon. These bars are used for the manufacturing of shafts, gears, studs, pins, and gears.

Wrapping Up

Free-cutting square bright bar have found usage at a very wide scale, extending quality construction finish, anti-corrosive properties, and high durability. If you want to buy a free-cutting square bright bar for your construction or manufacturing project, then Matta Drawing Works is the perfect solution for you. You can visit us for more information or get the best quote on any steel products, bars, and components.

#square bright bar #square profile bar #bright bar

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tropes-and-tales · 7 months

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Good Girl

Day 2: Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count: 2996

AN: This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you. Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy. He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it. Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer. Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits. Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single. The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up. The little touches you chance: brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in. The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness. In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them. “C’mon. It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested. You gotta be blatant with him. He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?” Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation. Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless. “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse. I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again. “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us. I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck: you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you. Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside. You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot. You square your shoulders. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll be the brave one.” A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath. “And you’re sure he likes me? You aren’t misreading this somehow? I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.

“Ah, kid, he loves you. You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life. Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster. You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear. “I was going to take a walk on the beach. Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant. “Really?”

“Yeah. You wanna go? C’mon.” You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance.

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave. The former tips you a knowing wink. The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks. He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit. It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice. You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it. He seems comfortable just to be himself: quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.

Case in point: you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one. Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy. If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.

“Same,” you reply. “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles. “I do,” you admit. “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them. “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent. He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.” It comes out curt, two quick syllables. A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement. Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night. You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there. The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.

“I saw you tonight—”

You shake your head again, cut him off. “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob. “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath. If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward. Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby. Honestly. I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…” You trail off, lose your words like an idiot. You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely. You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses: gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant. His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy. Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through. “I know, honey. Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you. You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not. Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find. You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come. You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you. You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too. He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh. He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down. You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin. “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease. You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you. He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.” His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip. “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out. You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space. At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you. His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much: the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts. Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets. It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks. His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw. He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin. You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair. You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed. You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.” He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat. “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter. You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid. No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you. A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank: yes, you want to be his good girl. Yes, you want to come for him. Whatever he wants. Anything he wants. Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him. “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can. Yes, yes. Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you: you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge. You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over. His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it. “My good, sweet girl. Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him. Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair. “Good girl. So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes. Only for you, Bobby.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #tropes and tales #kinktober 2023

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rallamajoop · 2 months

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That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

#Karl Heisenberg #Ethan Winters #RE meta #winterberg #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #RE assets #not to soapbox but that's also why the popularity of AO3's 'soft' Heisenberg tag makes me roll my eyes so hard #this dude is 'soft' like a fencepost to the gut

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statelysapphic · 5 months

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Snowed In

S16!Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: When a blizzard hits sooner than expected, you spend the night, snowed in, with Emily. Covers the Snowed In/Blizzard square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2023!

Warnings: Brief mention of alcoholism.

A/N: Hi babes! I'm very excited to share the first of four fics I have planned for this holiday season! Thanks for reading!<3

Ao3 Link

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she started, “but that blizzard rolled in sooner than forecast. There are accidents everywhere, even this late at night. I’m not driving home, nor am I letting you.”

You peeled your eyes away from the report in front of you to look at your boss. The BAU had landed back in Quantico just a few hours earlier, and while Tara, Rossi, Luke, and JJ opted to start their weekend early, you and Emily decided to push through and finish your reports. (You didn’t want to have to worry about it over the weekend; Emily didn’t want you to be alone this late in the evening.) She was giving you a pointed look. The one she used when she had to be the boss. It wasn’t exactly how you wanted to start your weekend, but you weren’t going to complain about some one-on-one time with the older woman.

“I was going to protest, but I know how to pick my battles.” She smirked at your words and cocked an eyebrow.

“Good answer. Finish up your report, then come to my office.” You watched as she made her way up to her office, the sway of her hips more pronounced than usual. As if she was giving you a show. You tried not to think too much into it.

You put the finishing touches on your case report and made your way to Emily’s office. Upon entering, your eyes were immediately drawn to the older woman, who sat sideways on a couch, staring thoughtfully out the window watching the snowfall. She was deep in thought, deep enough to have not noticed you yet, her thoughts were not unpleasant. No, not at all. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. A set of Christmas lights framed the shelves behind her desk and cast a soft glow over her. She looked stunning.

You had done everything in your power not to develop feelings for the woman, and yet you were unsuccessful. Though, she didn’t help either. You sometimes caught her staring at you in the bullpen from her office. You tried not to think about it too much, chalking it up to her merely observing how you interact with the team. At first, when you would catch her staring, she would quickly avert her gaze. As time went on though, she would stare just a bit longer. A look bordering fondness on her face.

If the staring wasn’t enough, the two of you seemed to always bunk together wherever a case takes you. You could count on one hand the number of times you bunked with someone other than her. And when you bunked together, she made sure that you were okay: sleeping enough, emotionally and physically well, those sorts of things. You told yourself she was just being a good boss, and you didn’t want to interfere with that. Emily, however, knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to you. And whether or not she was ready to admit it yet, she would feel lost without you. She didn’t make it easy for you.

Emily Prentiss was an excellent profiler, there was no mistaking that. Yet, it took her a while to get a good read of who you really were. You rarely accompanied them to after-work gatherings, whether they’d been at Rossi’s or a bar, so even though you had been on the team for several months, they didn’t know a lot about you. Emily, of course, had gotten to know you through small conversations in your shared hotel rooms and she was excited to spend the evening with you.

“Knock knock,” you said, almost whispering to not startle your boss.

“Hey, hey,” she replied, “come on in. Take a seat.” She patted the empty couch cushion in front of her.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting where instructed.

“Thank you for not putting up a fight,” she chuckled.

“Like I said, I know how to pick my battles. Besides, figure it’s best not to argue with the boss.” You curled up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I know it’s probably the last way you wanted to spend your Friday night. Especially after a case,” she said sympathetically.

“Truthfully, I’d be doing the same thing at home.”

“Really?” She asked, seeming genuinely surprised, “I would’ve thought you had plans.”

“You’d be incorrect,” you chuckled. “I’m quite boring.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Most of my time off the clock is spent with my nose in a book.” You shrugged, “I’m an introvert working an extrovert's job. But I also wouldn’t have it any other way.” A genuine smile painted your face, and Emily internally gushed. She loved seeing this side of you, where your guard was down almost entirely and you didn’t have to be an FBI agent. Her eyes fell to your lips for a moment, and she quickly adverted her gaze upon realizing what she had done. You, however, didn’t acknowledge it and or the heat that suddenly consumed you.

A comfortable silence fell over you. Comfortable and familiar, almost. You looked at Emily for a moment longer before you leaned over the couch to retrieve your novel from your go bag. “Speaking of, do you mind? I desperately need to decompress after that one.”

“Not at all,” she confirmed. You dove into the novel, excited to escape reality for just a while.

You were able to read for a while, but soon you found yourself unable to stay focused on the words in front of you, too distracted by the look Emily gave you. The notion of her reciprocating your feelings crossed your mind, though only for a moment. The negative thoughts overshaddowing the positive ones. You feared she would simply view you as a child, considering the age gap between the two of you. You really only had yourself to offer, and you weren’t sure if that would be enough for Emily.

“You’ve been on that page for a while,” she said, breaking the silence, “I can almost hear you overthinking.”

“You stare at me an awful lot,” you noted.

“Am I not allowed to admire a beautiful woman?” She asked confidently, smirking and raising a brow. You couldn’t help but laugh at that one.

“You think I’m beautiful, Emily Prentiss?”

“I do.” She didn’t hesitate to answer you, and it caught you off guard. You felt yourself blush at her answer, and you knew she noticed. There was no way she didn’t. Unbeknownst to you, Emily had her eyes on you since your interview. And after giving one of the best, she knew she wanted you. Though, she never thought she had a chance.

“Bold,” you replied, “But I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t have a similar opinion of you.”

“Oh?” She was surprised, “I didn’t think I’d be your type. I figured you’d go for someone closer in age.” You paused for a moment, allowing the silence to settle, and contemplating your next words carefully. Silence felt like the best option, or some off handed joke about your mommy issues to lighten the mood. But, Emily’s unwavering confidence emboldened you.

“You are exactly my type, actually,” you confirmed. Emily’s face softened, and for a moment you panicked. So when she didn’t immediately respond, you continued, “From the way you command every room you walk into, to the salt and pepper hair. I think you’re stunning.” The older woman held you gaze, almost unable to believe what you had told her, though she knew you were being honest.

“In that case, you should ask to buy me a drink.” Emily sat forward, resting her elbow on the back of the couch, and holding her head up with her hand.

“Well you should know,” you paused, “I don’t drink, my parents were alcoholics and so were their parents. But-”

“Is that why you never come out with us?” She interrupted before you could even ask her out.

“Yeah, that’s part of it, it’s not important right now. But, Emily, I would love to buy you a drink sometime, if you’d let me.”

“I’d say yes, but I know you don’t drink, so I’ll let you buy me coffee.”

“It’s a date then.” You smiled, knowing this was the beginning of something good.

Tags: @virescent-v

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #wlwfic #wlw fanfiction #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

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disenchantedif · 4 months

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Sharing Viktor's whole story as a New Year's gift! If you'd like to support me and my work and read the rest of the Disenchanting New Year stories, check out my Patreon.

Disenchanting New Year 2/12; Viktor

“This is already stressing me out,” Viktor sighs, his eyes darting around at all the traffic as you lounge in the passenger seat, “Why did mom think this was a good idea?”

“Because it’ll hopefully be fun once we get there,” You point out, “And they got us a really nice hotel, so the party will probably be cool.”

“I don’t know why they did that,” He mutters, “I don’t even want to imagine how much a hotel with a view of the Square cost on New Year’s Eve.”

“I think they’re still celebrating,” You say, leaning over to nudge his shoulder, “Remember when we finally told them we were dating and your mom made us a cake, like, not even an hour later?”

“And my dad brought out one of the vintage bottles,” Viktor says, mystified as if he still couldn’t quite believe it had happened, “I almost thought the world was ending.”

“Just enjoy it,” You advise, “They’re happy for you. Us.”

He reaches out, taking your hand and placing it on his thigh. You squeeze the muscle there, making him smile over at you, the early morning sun lighting up his face.

The traffic is thick as you both make the trek from Catskill to New York City. It’s a two-ish hour drive that isn’t honestly that bad with good company and some music. New Year’s is one of the busiest nights around here, which is apparent as cars swarm the streets and people pack the sidewalks.

Your hotel has complimentary parking, and it’s a lucky thing. You don’t think at this point you’d be able to find much available without having pre-reserved it. Viktor grabs both your overnight bags and heads for the front desk to check in. You take the time to wander around the lobby, looking at all the fancy contemporary decor and the fine champagne.

“Come on,” Viktor’s fingers graze over your arm as he returns to your side, his eyes soft, “Elevator is this way.”

You hear Viktor gasp a little when he finally walks into the room, dumping your bags on the king bed. One wall is all window, giving you quite a lovely view. You can see most of Times Square from how high up your room is, the people milling about below practically specks.

A note from the hotel sits on the dresser with a complimentary bottle of wine and a few chocolates. You pop one in your mouth, tossing your bags onto one of the chairs to clear the bed.

“We have hours before the partying starts,” Viktor says, “You can get a nap in if you want.”

You smirk, extending a hand as you scoot back onto the bed, “I need my pillow.”

He smiles indulgently, sliding his shoes off before taking your hand. You move closer as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his chest. It’s easy to fall asleep, and you don’t even realize you have until he’s shaking you awake. It’s dark outside now, you realize. It would be, at least, if not for all the lights and commotion in the streets below.

“The music started a little bit ago,” Viktor says quietly, “I was going to wake you up sooner but you looked so comfortable.”

You groan, stretching slightly as you sit up. You glance over, taking in the view of Viktor’s profile shining with the revelry below.

“Were you wanting to go up to the bar for the party?” He asks, leaning back against the headboard.

“Why not?” You ask, sliding your shoes back on, “We paid for the experience. Well, your parents did, I guess.”

It’s crowded when you reach the roof. This close to midnight has people already drunk and stumbling, so you two find a nice spot along the railing. The couches are comfortable as you sit and stare out at the skyline. The ball is a lot smaller than it looks on TV, you realize.

“Guess it’s all about perspective,” Viktor mutters, “It looks tiny but I read it’s actually twelve feet tall and weighs almost twelve thousand pounds.”

Time passes quickly on the roof; it’s chilly this high up, so you’re practically laying in Viktor’s arms once again. He goes and gets drinks at one point, and the glasses are so dainty and delicate you can tell he worries about shattering them.

As the ten minute to midnight mark is reached, people are humming with excitement as more and more gather around the railing. You scoot closer into Viktor’s side, letting an older woman sit down on the other end of the couch.

Eventually the countdown starts, and you chant the numbers down in unison with everyone else.

“Happy New Year’s,” Viktor whispers just for you as everyone else shouts it out.

He leans in at the same time as you, his hand cradling your cheek as your lips meet. You sway in closer, like he has some kind of magnetic field pulling you in. He tastes like expensive champagne and smoke and fire, his sharp teeth kept carefully away from snagging your lips. You hear people cooing and awwing around you, but you feel no embarrassment. He pulls back to breathe, his face still inches away from your own. His eyes, mostly blue in the low light, look only at you.

“To many more?” You say, lacing your fingers through with his.

“So many.” He agrees, his lips curling up as he pecks you on the cheek.

It doesn’t take long before you both tire of the noise and the packed crowd, so you head back down to your room not long after midnight. You’re too tired for anything else, but the slow kiss you share in bed leaves you burning for more. You have a whole year to worry about that, and many more to come.

#disenchantedif #viktor orlov

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smallgodseries · 9 months

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[image description: A chocolate bar whose in gold foil has been pulled back, revealing bits of its silver underside and the profile of a stunning woman.Her name ‘Thea Bromeaux ‘ is molded in 3 lines onto the tops of the chocolate squares. Text (on the gild and black band around the chocolate bar) reads, “43 ~ The Small God of Chocolate”]

She is a very old god, one whose position in the pantheon has been gentrified in recent years, elevated above her previous heights, but rendered frivolous in the same brushstroke, her holy rites and rituals reduced to gas station cocoa machines and waxy bars studded with nuts and currants, filled with over-sweetened caramel and artificial mint. She has seen her stature dwindle from something rare and revered into a figure of light mockery and antic children’s pleasures, and she is not overjoyed by this change. Nor should she be. Nor would any god, young or old, be pleased to be once so great and glorious, and then remade so small.

But.

But still she is beloved, will always be beloved, is kept in open and in secret. She sweetens the kisses of lovers and enhances the savor of chefs, and with each new generation of believers she looms large as the sky once again. The childish voice who begs for sweets may not speak with the same slow reverence as a priest who held the secret to extracting her pleasures from the fresh cacao bean, but the faith and the purity of belief is the same.

But.

But still she is important, still she is needed, still she is wanted. She soothes the pain of loves lost or loves unrequited, clinging to fingertips and sticking to lips, the sweetest cosmetic ever known, home in the hands of her adherents.

But.

But her faith may be dwindled and yet she knows, with all her heart, that it will rise again, as the food scientists and the molecular gastronomists chase her secrets down every convoluted chemical pathway and into every hidden cul-de-sac of flavor. They will tease her fully into the light, and for some gods, that might spell the end; that might mean passing from belief into knowledge, where no divinity can live. Fortunately for Thea, the rules are different for the culinary gods, who understand always that they can be understood but never fully comprehended, and whose faithful will always fall to her with nothing more than a single, simple kiss.

#small gods #seanan mcguire #smallgodseries #lee moyer #icons and stories

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canaidliafail · 1 year

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stay grounded pt.3

streamer abby x streamer reader 🌿

[ part 1 ] [ part 2 ] [part 4]

MDI. Things get spicy here <3

not proof read // will check for mistakes later tonight <33

Your favorite class aside from sewing, was without a doubt art classes. First two hours you did still nature with charcoals or pencils and the other two you would draw modeling figures and practice on how you could translate the fabric type you intended on using in your sketch.

You were good at drawing. It came naturally to you and your teachers questioned how did you end up in fashion design and not art college. You were his favorite.

But it had been a week since you saw a sign from Abby and everything was going to hell. Last post she made was a photo of her with Nora in cosplay which only accelerated your spiral. To be fair you hadn’t initiated contact either but that was neither here nor there

“Did you not have time to draw these days ? Your strokes are very messy…” Your teacher said hovering behind you and studying your piece. You would have screamed actually and then cried and then you decided then you would bomb the city

You gave him a curt smile “I had a rough week at work” He sighed in understanding and patted your shoulder “Ah so young and already having to balance all this. I understand its hard. You can take it easy today then” he said and half an hour later came back to give your sketch an empathetic look that looked like constipation.

At the end of the day you rolled up the papers with your pitiful sketches and shoved them in your bag crinkling the edges. You felt stupid for letting someone on the other end of the world affect your life that much. Hell it's been barely a month that she noticed you ( you refused to account for all the other times you tried to get her attention by sending bits or commenting on her chat a year ago and the occasional like left on a post that made it her -for you page- )

You were at the cafe across from your college building sitting on the bar counter in front of the large glass doors sipping on the overpriced cappuccino and biting the rim of your reusable cup.

She got me a ridiculously overpriced statue. That has to amount to something, no?

Then again she did mention to her it wasn’t that different from getting me a cup of coffee…

Your mind went in circles. Did Onlyfans pay her so well that she could mindlessly toss her money left and right? It wouldn’t be such a bizarre concept to be fair. She was after all at the peak of her career with girls begging to see so much as a collar bone. You nibbled on your lower lip fighting the temptation to see her page.

Did she post gym pics ? Did she post more than that?

You went to her page and tapped under her point at the link leading you to another site with all her links. At the very top, sat a square with the short description of

“18+”

You looked around you and tapped the button and waited for the page to load. Your cheeks flushed. Her banner cropped nicely above her collar bones and below her chest where she showed her arms that were the sole focus of the image.

Her profile photo was a dreadfully common gym pic taken on the dirty mirror near the treadmill section. So effortless yet straight to the point of who she was. She knew what her followers wanted, you included. The illusion that she was just your next door neighbour and this your private chat that turned raunchy at night. You hesitated around the subscribe button.

Crossing that line came at the average cost of 20.99 per month. You pulled out your credit card and went to make an undercover account and subscribe to her profile. Hell there was probably no chance of this ever going anywhere so there was no harm in you indulging in a little more and having something to look forward to after class, right? Right.

You took another sip of your coffee deluding yourself that this didn't cause your heartbeat to spike an unhealthy amount and blamed the shakiness of your hands to your drink

Subscribed for 1 month

Came the message and there was an automated response from her account in the mailbox.

I knew I’d find you here ;)

This cocky motherfucker. You clenched your cup and started scrolling your eyes widening in surprise. There were some posts behind a fat paywall starting at 50 euros going up to 100. You occasionally shrugged one shoulder at the more casual posts and then stopped at one particular image of her with a towel low on her hips, topless with the foggy mirror perfectly censoring your chest. You took a screenshot and decided to go light a candle at the local church next Sunday.

The next photo that stopped you and made you forget that breathing was a necessity was one where she was at the beach with grey cargo pants and a tight white top,sleeveless with a wide cut on her front. The white top ,most importantly, hugged her figure not because of an elastic fabric but because it was wet.

You had never seen more beautiful and well shaped tits. You hated how well it all came together and you hated that the wet top did nothing to hide her pierced perky nipples. Of course there were 389 comments below that pic all thirsty and all equally delighted at this new found discovery that Abby had piercings.

You shook your head and exited her page crestfallen and horny. What a powerful combination. Why did you ever even consider having a chance? You were no different from all the other fans flocking to her page and your reaction to those pics were no different than a mans. You crossed your arms and buried your head in the small dip between your body and hands, fighting back tears and thoughts. Reasonably you knew that Abby did not mind how her followers viewed her as you found her often responding to those comments with her very own bold and flirtatious way. You knew that and yet it was hard to undo years of shame for your nature and Abbys sudden radio silence didn't help

_____________

It was ready. You had never worked with so many materials for something so big before but you were proud to say that the knight armor you crafted was stunning and it was a perfect fit on you. With the release of a new game you Wanted to for once be on time with a costume to wear and take some photos. Besides, it was the least you could’ve done with the company giving you early access to the beta of the game a year ago and now sending you the collector's edition free of charge. You snapped a few pics in your bedroom which in itself was fitting of the whole romantic knight fairytale theme. You tried to film a few videos and tried to post on every platform you had and once you were done with that you tossed your phone aside and went to prepare the house for the weekly sleepover that you and your friend group had

Cassie: Hey babe sorry I’m late,Just go in the bus <333

Rick: Do we have the stuff ? Should I bring mine?

You checked a box near your makeup station and opened to see how much you had left. Definitely enough for 2 cigarettes

No need. I got it

June: Open the door shitface I've been buzzing for 10 minutes

Stay there and freeze to death

Came your response and lowered the volume of your music to realize that Indeed June was here. You leaped to your door and buzzed her in leaving the door open to go take off the armor. You tried not to get impatient and ruin it in the process of taking off every garment. The door slid open wider and then shut closed. June was huffing in pain and rested her hand in front of your bedroom watching you change in spite and anger.

“You hate us all and that's why you live in a place without an elevator”

“Nice to see you too” you said with a smile and she hopped over to your side to give you a quick and tight hug

“How are you doing?”

“Shitty but what's new. Someone has to entertain the group chat with their misery” June laughed and walked out of your room to the living room and plopped down on the couch tossing her bag on the floor and grabbing your controller to change the music and connect to her account. She let phone music fill the halls and got up again waiting for you to finish changing.

You quickly threw on a baggy pair of sweatpants and a crop top and walked out with her “So should we order coffee or a drink?”

“Way ahead of you, Cassie got us our usual already and she told me she is almost here”

Few minutes later the buzzer went off and in came Rick “That’s it. I’m giving up on love. She hates me. She absolutely hates me” Behind her Cassie followed with a cardboard containing all of your coffees yelling at her from the staircase all the way to your apartment

“Will you stop it?! She literally told you to meet tomorrow! TOMORROW!”

“Yes but her tone-“

“Her tone was neutral” Rick huffed out upset and went to sit in the living room

“I take it you have updates for us with your infinite crush?” Rick sulked and grabbed her phone to start reading out loud her latest conversation while occasionally laughing at her own jokes.These get-togethers started by happening once every two months to now happening almost every day as your friend group grew close and it always helped you feel lighter and more chipper. Your phone went off with a notification and you nearly screamed.

Staygrounded69: hey

“SHE texted me. Wow I really thought I was about to get ghosted for good”

Everyone snapped their head at you

“What are you waiting for then ? Answer!!” Cassie urged you on with an excited smile. You shot up and went to your kitchen needing to be away from the others as not to embarrass yourself any further

Whats up

You free to hang out for a game?

You hit your head on the table and groaned out loud. Your friends expressed a mess of concerned sentences all asking you in their own way what happened.

“SHe wants to call and play a game”

“GO FOR ITTTTT GO GET SUM GIRL” June screamed and you shook your head

“No I won't cave in that easy”

In the distance you heard Cassie tease “Sure that you won’t do, but having her Onlyfans pic as your lock screen is not above you” and you would have given her a jab on the ribs but decided against it and went type a response

I’m not alone.

Oh?

I have company tonight but we can still chat or something?

Unless you only wanted to play a game then we can hangout tomorrow…

It was embarrassing how desperate for her attention you were. She used at best 3 syllables and here you were meeting the word limit in a school essay. You saw the three dots appear and disappear as Abby considered her response. You leaned back on the stool and checked your nails,pressing at the skin around them mindlessly.

Works for me, how was your week?

She asked and you felt your heart beat loud in your chest and cold sweat run over you. You could not entirely grasp why her giving you the attention that you craved so badly made you so nauseous and so anxious but you brushed it off to you simply having a crush that intense

It was something. Classes were ridiculously slow

Right. You’re still in college ?

Last year but yeah..I study fashion design.You aren’t?

Oh no I still am. Which is why I still vanish. Classes are A true pain in the ass

You smiled,warmth spreading all over your body. You were pacing in the kitchen while exchanging back and forth meaningless info about your day and your general life. You were surprised to know she was the same age as you but that was about as many similarities as the two of you had but that did nothing to falter either interest in the conversation.

Oh Alice just came.

Give her a pat from me <3

And in came a photo. You opened it without hesitation and were quick to keep your finger pressed on the image processing what was in front of you. Alice was comfortably seated between Abbys thighs and her head was snuggly pressed on her leg looking up at the camera. Now whether Alice was in the image or not it didn't matter cause your eyes were stuck on the fact that Abby was only in a black pair of boxer briefs and she did nothing to divert the camera lens away from that fact.

Her arm was starched out patting Alice’s head, her veiny hand on display. You fixated on those long calloused fingers and you almost moaned just at the thought of what they could do.You hated that you couldn’t take a screenshot and cursed igs safety feature of showing the other party when someone did that. You exited the image and tried to think of an answer.

Damn. She is almost in frame

Don't blame me for your wandering eyes babe

You smacked your head on the table with a loud thud and it rumbled in protest,

“You alive cotton?!” Rick called out and the rest chuckled. You checked the time and noticed you had been talking with her for a good two hours at this point and despite wanting to continue the conversation you had to join your friends at some point

“Yeah gimme a few”

Shit You almost made me blush

Almost? Damn. Better luck next time

She said and you let out an awkward half laugh half sigh not believing what you were reading and how well this had gone. You bounced your leg in distress. You were beyond aroused by this attitude. Be it the photos, or her attempting to make a pass at you, you could feel the inevitable burn and ache in your core. You let out a scream and heard a glass fall and rick cough

“The hell?!”

“What happened?!”

“I’m gonna kick you for that what the fuck”

Came their voices in startled unison

Well Ill have to leave you high and dry. My friends are calling me

Go have fun. Talk to you tomorrow ?

Sure :)

They ran into the kitchen expectant and you let out a mumbled

“She said talk to you tomorrow”

You were sure you had lost 89% of your hearing capabilities from their cheerful screams.

____________

At precisely 4 am you decided to give up on sleep and left the living room trying to step around the bodies sleeping on the floor amongst the pillows and blankets going to your bedroom for some privacy. The ache was persistent and you had to do something about it. You locked the door and unlocked your phone going straight to Abbys Onlyfans. There was a message there

A video behind a paywall. A paywall of 250 euros with the caption “was thinking of you” and right below the video was a separate message

You closed your eyes the minute your fingers slipped and purchased the video. A video unlike anything else on her profile where she wore a sleeveless baggy t-shirt and the same boxer briefs you saw on that photo she sent you earlier that evening. She was sitting on her gaming chair with her legs spread and the camera was placed on the bottom cropping her face out. You watched as her fingers teased the waistband and in came her voice

Were you thinking of me?

It was lower, suggestive unlike how she usually talked. You pressed your thighs and pushed your back against the bedframe falling deeper between the pillows. Your hand laid comfortably on top of your tummy an inch away from the elastic band of your sweatpants. You circled the area hesitating to delve deeper but when you saw Abby initiate the notion by slipping her hand beneath her underwear you did the same, your body having a mind of its own.

Are you touching yourself for me baby?

She asked and you almost let out a breathless quiet “yes” but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. You mirrored her circular slow movements and hated how painfully slow she went about it and as if she knew exactly what you thought she added

Are you getting impatient ?

You bit your lip trying to hold back a moan. Her voice reeked of sex and the eroticism of her moves drove you insane. Your head was spinning and when you dared to outpace her you heard a very low breathless sigh come from the video and echo in your head. The video ended there and your eyes shot wide open in disbelief. You checked the time. It was a 3 minute video.

Fuck

You thought and closed the tab leading back to the chat on onlyfans. A new message was there

-Enjoyed it cotton?-

Fucking fuck

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x you #tlou2

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likeadevils · 10 months

Text

welcome to swiftie tumblr here’s a style guide

are you afraid of people making judgements about the way your profile looks but you don't know enough about tumblr to tell what people might judge you about? then this post is for you!

this is mostly gonna apply to specifically swiftie tumblr, and even then like. you’re totally free to present yourself however you want, but these are just the dominant cultural norms

URLS

album and song titles are the most sought after

lyrics are also very popular (the shorter the better)

dashes are considered a bit cringe but slight misspellings or adding an s to words are fine

adding your name to your url will make people go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

PROFILE PICTURES

you should have a pfp chosen before you start following people, otherwise people will go “oh fuck a bot” and automatically block you

pictures of yourself will also make people go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

gradient/one color backgrounds behind a picture of taylor are still very common, but plain pictures of taylor are also a vibe

if they have that one particular pale pink-ish with a bit of grain filter people will go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

displaying your pfp in a circle format on your mobile theme is more common but if you have it square people won’t judge you

BACKGROUND IMAGES

there’s lots of acceptable ways to do this but something unique to tumblr is playing with the border between the background and the rest of your blog

a few years ago it was super popular to add a ripped paper effect to the bottom, and that’s still hanging on

a curved border (either a wave or a bowl shape) is also fairly common

making the picture smaller than the borders has started to gain traction (i started noticing it becoming popular like, mid pandemic)

hiding the pfp from your mobile theme to make your background flow more is super common but the color schemes should still compliment each other

MOBILE THEME

you can use this handy dandy tool to make your background/text color match a color in your background/pfp

i’d say white or black backgrounds are still the most common but i’ve found the colored background with white text to be making a strong comeback

there’s not a ton of judgement about this, as long as it all matches

BLOG TITLE

blog titles can really be whatever but in general keep it short (less that one row)

a short lyric, a word, or an emoji are the most common options

DESCRIPTION

i’ve found getting on a computer and going to yoururl.tumblr.com and clicking on the little painting thing on the top right corner to be the best way to edit text but the mobile app works fine too (unless you’re adding links then you have to go on a computer)

in general 2-3 rows are the most common, and ideally it’s not just one big wall of text

general format is name (this is where you link your caard/about page) / age/age range / pronouns in the top row and a (short) lyric you like in the bottom

another popular format is everything being a lyric and adding links to stuff on important words

if you like to make edits/art/some other type of original content feel free to add a link in your description

you can add links (again only on desktop) like this

MISC BLOG SETUP STUFF

if your likes/following are visible (especially if both are visible) people will go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

some people show their most popular posts, some people don’t, to my knowledge there’s no judgement either way

your pinned post can be whatever you want it to be but it’s super common to have it be a short about/navigation page

most people have a tag they use for personal posts (“name speaks/rambles/etc” is probably the most common) but you don’t have to if you don’t want to

INTERACTIONS WITH OTHER PEOPLE

follow for follows are not super common. it happens (if you follow someone people it’s common for that person to check out your blog but not in any way a guarantee) but for the most part being tumblr mutuals is a higher bar to clear than “oh this person follows me.” if you want to get peoples attention i would recommend this method, but even then the person can chose not to follow you without it being an insult to your character

blocking is more common than it is on twitter and not an insult to your character. repeatedly starting shit with other people will cause your followers to block you. if you want to start a fight with someone just block them instead

feel free to reblog old posts and spam like

while the mechanics and terminology are very similar, in terms of the way they are perceived a tumblr like is not equal to a twitter like, a tumblr reply is not equal to a twitter reply, and a reblog is not equivalent to retweet

likes are generally utilized as a little hello or bookmarks

reblogs are closer to twitter likes than anything else

replies have a fairly unique function in tumblr interactions but i think the closest way to describe it is like a semi-public dm to the op— chances are no one else is going to see it but the op (except if you replied through a reblog, then the reblogger will see it, but the reblogger will still likely read your reply as intended for the op)

if you have a comment put it in the tags. you know those old screenshots of tumblr posts that have a million “oh my god this is so funny”s breaking up the content of the post? that’s widely considered not only cringe but a bit rude now, please don't do that

if you like someone’s tags, reblog from them and say “prev tags”. every few weeks you’ll see someone from a different corner of tumblr say “prev tags is dead!” but on swiftie tumblr prev tags has never died and doesn’t show signs of dying in the near future

@-ing taylor in a post (edit: unless it’s a joke, @-ing taylor as a joke is very funny feel free to do that) will make people go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

again you can present yourself however you want, tumblr is the home of cringe, these are just the dominant cultural norms that i’ve noticed on swiftie tumblr specifically

#txt*#please don't yell at me

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zeldasnotes · 3 days

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The cat on your profile picture :DD anyway i wanted to ask you do you think there is some kind of global/astrological reason way exactly Megan the Stalion out of all other female rapers was able to call out nicki minaj on dating a convicted p*dofile. Like the Megas Law bar was INSANE like what are the chances that Megan raps that bar like do you get my strange ask i just dont believe it was coincidences i think is something more astro related . Is it becouse Megan is an Aquarius and since its the Age of Aquarius she exposed nicki's sick husband orr is it becouse Megan has something deeper in her chart couse so MANY people try to drag her down . i think nicki is bitter becouse i have seen that sun in saggitarius HATE when people dont bow down to them and megan as a free aqua is like naah fuck out of here with ya royalty bullshit idk i just wonder btw i am not a rap fan i am just facinated by the weird respond by man and powerful woman toward megan . also i do think nicki has a problem with strong woman couse she only goes after woman that attack her she never fights back at man i will be interested if her chart says something about that couse i think nicki only likes and supports woman when they are smaller and less powerful then her idk hope that was not a boring ask :D love ya bye bye ps do only aquarius placements get power from this new age we entered or is it more complicaeted then that couse i see some amazing sun in aqua people having great luck lately and i wonder is it related to astrology :)) with love a crazy pisces

Hi!!🤍⭐️

Megan have Lilith in the 1st house + Moon Square Pluto so she will experience women trying to drag her down and compete with her to the point of crazy. She will alslo be competetive with other women herself. She also have Sun in the 10th house Square Pluto so she stands out and she will experience issues with men too, especially ego clashes with men.

Her Moon is conjunct Mars and her Mercury is conjunct MC and Uranus so she will say whats on her mind and her words hit hard. She wont be scared to call people out.

I also think their synastry is kinda horrible which is why they clash so hard. Nickis Mars is conjunct Megans MC so a public attack was to be expected here. This is a VERY competetive synastry aspect to have. The planet of war, drive and anger conjunct the others point of career, ambition, reputation and status.

Nicki also got a stellium in Megans 8th house so yeah…

And then Megans Mercury is in Nickis 12th house of subconscious so whatever Nicki wants to avoid or not deal with is what Megan will remind her of and shout it out for everyone to hear.

So yeah… a huge mess.

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #megan thee stallion

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mattadrawing · 9 months

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The Structural Advantages of Square Profile Bar in Architecture

In the world of architecture, where form and function intertwine, the Square Profile Bar stands tall as a structural marvel. With its sleek and geometric design, this innovative component has been quietly revolutionizing the construction landscape. From towering skyscrapers to intricate bridges, the Square Profile Bar boasts hidden strengths that empower architects and engineers to shape awe-inspiring structures.

In this blog, we embark on a journey to explore the structural advantages of Square Profile Bar in architecture, unearthing its hidden potential and power.

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In architectural design, acoustics play a vital role in creating spaces that are conducive to human comfort and productivity. Square Profile Bar, when strategically incorporated into building structures, can contribute to improved acoustic performance. Its uniform shape and precise dimensions help in constructing effective sound barriers, reducing noise transmission, and enhancing sound insulation in buildings.

This attribute makes it an excellent choice for applications in concert halls, auditoriums, recording studios, and other spaces where sound control is essential for optimal user experience. With Square Profile Bar, architects can shape environments that offer a harmonious blend of form and function, ensuring an enhanced acoustic experience for occupants.

The Bottom Line

Square Profile Bar epitomizes the hidden strength that underlies architectural brilliance. As we explore the architectural landscape of the future, this bar will continue to play a transformative role, empowering architects to shape iconic structures that captivate and inspire.

At Matta Drawing Works, we take immense pride in being at the forefront of pioneering architectural excellence. Our commitment to delivering high-quality Square Profile Bar has garnered trust and recognition from architects and engineers across the globe. As we shape a future marked by innovation and sustainability, our dedication to providing structural advantages through Square Profile Bar remains unwavering. With Matta Drawing Works leading the way, we look forward to empowering architects to unleash their creativity and reshape the world with the hidden strength of Square Profile Bar.

#Square Profile Bar

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sudhama566 · 1 year

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Square Profile Bar

Stainless Steel Square Profile Bar is a type of steel rod that is used mainly in auto and construction projects. The stainless steel square profile bar is anti-abrasive and anti-corrosive, making them accurate for joints in commercial medical environments such as hospitals. Preferred applications for square profile bars include mounting decorative ironwork, gates, and safety barriers around establishments. If you are in search of stainless steel square profile bar of the highest quality, please look no further. Matta Drawing Works is one of the world’s leading manufacturers of highly durable stainless steel square profile bars in dozens of grades and sizes.

Industries that use stainless steel square profile bars as a part of their construction and maintenance include mining, oil, pharmaceutical, chemical, and metallurgical. In some sectors, square profile bars are even essential to their functioning as well. For instance, the mining industry uses Steel square profile bars to reinforce concrete slabs or to brace the mine walls. Also, oil and gas pipelines utilize square profile bars to strengthen their external borders.

What Makes Stainless Steel Square Profile Bar Irreplaceable?

Several reasons make the stainless steel square profile bars irreplaceable. Whether be it concrete, wood, or other synthetic fibers found in the surrounding area, the stainless steel square profile bar’s anti-corrosion qualities, durability, strength, and dependability remain unmatched. Stainless steel square profile bars are often flat, round, hexagonal, or square in shape and the shape of the bar determines its application space. The square profile bars are found in a variety of grades and are used for different applications.

Properties Of Stainless Steel Square Profile Bars

● Strength to withstand any physical or chemical conditions.

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Square profile bars are made up of stainless steel, a strong and sturdy metal resistant to corrosion. They are also used for many purposes because of their flexibility and how easily they can be shaped.

Applications Of Stainless Steel Square Profile Bars

● Automobile industries

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Why Square Profile Bar is popular among Industries?

Steel square profile bars are popular among industries as they are durable and can be used for various purposes. Square profile bars are also often used to hold up a roof, making them an excellent construction site choice.

Square profile bars are popular because they are easy to use and cut into desired shapes and sizes. They can also be utilized for different things, such as holding up a roof, creating a door frame, and creating a base for a table.

Major Benefits of Square Profile Bar

Steel square profile bars have a lot of advantages. Some of them are listed below.

● To provide the structure, specifically the beam and slab, flexibility that concrete cannot supply.

● To give structural stability. The square pattern of the square profile bars on the bars helps to prevent the bars from slipping because we need to allow ample development length.

● Due to the structure’s complex design, we are required to supply the best steel square profile bars.

Consequently, we must also provide a small number of bars with a high diameter as it is impossible to provide all these elements using a single bar.

Conclusion

Matta Drawing Works is a stainless steel bright square profile bar manufacturer that produces many stainless steel square profile bars. As a result of our several decades of expertise, we are capable of delivering a high-quality assortment of stainless steel bright square profile bars in a variety of grades and sizes to our clients.

After going through the heat treatment, cold drawing, annealing, and tempering processes, our highly qualified production team produces stainless steel square profile bars for our customers in a manufacturing facility. The state-of-the-art gear produced at our facility allows us to produce bright square profile bars of world-class quality.

We are India's most well-known Stainless Steel Hex & square profile bars manufacturer for various applications. We manufacture advanced stainless steel square profile bar...

#square profile bar #profile bar

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avallon · 1 year

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It Could Be Sweet

Kishibe x fem!reader

A/n: first of all, I would like to thank @vilsoo for letting me participate in this project, the Ultraviolence Collab, I'm a little nervous because it's my first participation in a collaboration and also, because English is not my native language, I would like to apologize for some grammar errors that may appear, I have proofread but still some error may have escaped. This is based on the song Pretty When You Cry by Lana Del Rey

Hope you like it, please like and reblog if you like it, thank you <3

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Canon!AU, female reader, smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s and kishibe is in his 50s), blood, alcohol, angst, kishibe sucks at romance, 18+, minors DNI

Summary: “Everything is so easy for you, as simple as breathing.”

"I need you."

Kishibe had never said that to anyone.

The words sounded so strange coming out of his mouth.

But Kishibe never before in his life uttered such sincere words.

Kishibe was used to women, they were great, all he needed to do was smile at some girl in a bar or, on the worst days, take a few walks in the red light district, and walk into the door of the first smiling face that blew him a kiss. But that was only on days when work had sucked.

He already knew through the rumbles in the corridors that a new hunter was about to be hired, he just hoped they didn't throw the rookie behind his back, he had just trained Himeno and sent her to the front line, and, at the moment, everything what he wanted was just to drink whiskey in his office, and wait for the calamity that awaited him day after day.

But as soon as he stepped into the firm's building, he was told that Makima was waiting for him in her office.

And then, in that sterile office, and with Makima smiling behind her desk, he saw you; nothing special, just a plain girl, not the slightest bit of a hunter's profile, with your crisp uniform and your hands behind your back, your head down as a sign of respect and subservience, a little afraid to look him in the eye, you had probably already heard of his reputation there.

Kishibe snorted with impatience.

“I have more things to do, I won't waste my time babysitting. Send her to Himeno.”

And he was already leaving the room when Makima gently pulled him by the shoulder, leading him to the far corner of the office, away from the newcomer's ears.

“Kishibe-san.” Makima gave him one of her gentle, hollow smiles. “I need to inform you that the orders came from above and we are in no position to deny orders from a superior, and well.” She cast a polite look at the newcomer. “The rookie showed capacity in the interview and a willpower that is very rare in young hunters nowadays, we want to test all that determination in the best way; on the front lines and with the best hunter, so she will knows for sure if her determination will remain the same and she will be useful to the organization.”

And with that, Kishibe just looked at you and motioned for you to follow him.

And maybe that was his first mistake.

***

You were a good girl, shy but good, and by 'good', Kishibe meant the sweetest sense of the word.

“Crying already?” he said, just in your second week of training, opening the flask of whiskey and watching the blood that oozed from the cut on your collarbone and wet your white tank top, marking your breasts.

“Sorry, Master.” you sniffled and then tried to get up from the ground, passing a bloody hand across your nose and putting yourself in the fighting position again.

"How old are you?" he wanted to know.

“Twenty-four, sir.” you replied dutifully, being taken aback when Kishibe yanked on your wrist, bringing you straight into the sole of his shoe that hit your chin squarely.

“Slow reflexes.” he warned. "Any second of distraction counts as hours of head start for a devil."

You spit blood, looking at the floor, you felt that your head was going to explode in two pieces, the air had been lacking for a few seconds and your elbows had been scraped by the fall, you tried to get up but your arms gave way, not supporting the weight of your body. You stared in shock at the amount of blood lying beside you, but the shock turned to worry when Kishibe's shoes took your line of vision.

"Here." you saw a handkerchief held out to you as your gaze rose. "Come on, kid, if I'd kicked it real hard you wouldn't even be up to tell the story."

"Thanks." you thanked him in a nasal voice, taking the handkerchief and placing it over your sore and throbbing bloody nose.

Kishibe helped you up and sit on a bench.

"I'm sorry-"

“Stop apologizing.” he cut you off and looked at you, this time seeming to really see you. “You're trying, aren't you?” and watched your flickering, watchful eyes. “So keep going, stop thinking you won't make it or that you owe me an apology for failing a task, I don't want your apologies, I want the best you have to offer me. And it still wouldn't be enough. I want to see you enter this court without fear of me. Next week we will train in an open field.” and saying this he got up and walked towards the entrance to the court, stopping at the door and turning his head towards you. “Would you be up for dinner out?” he asked in his usual monotonous, drawling voice.

You gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise, followed by a quick nod.

"Right. But first, go to the infirmary and take care of it.” he pointed to the cut on your collarbone that was still bubbling blood.

When he realized it, he had already invited you to eat somewhere, and he immediately found it strange. Usually he didn't feel sorry for the rookies he trained, no, with you it wasn't a feeling of pity, but something more drawn to duty, perhaps the duty Kishibe felt to himself, at that moment, to have you close to him without that bloody nose and that tension you radiated from being around him. He wanted you to feel comfortable with him.

Shit.

“Fuck-!” you moaned timidly against his ear, squirming in pleasure as you felt his fingers curling skillfully inside your wet cunt, your hands gripping his rigid shoulders tightly, your back between the entrance wall of your apartment and his body, your breasts against his chest.

"I barely got my fingers in and you're all wet already." he whispered against your neck, not resisting the temptation to lick that piece of skin, and taking advantage of his free hand to grope your breast. “Sassy kid, do you have the hots for me?”

You didn't respond to the taunt, too embarrassed to even look at him. You hid your face against his neck, too lost in the feeling of pleasure he provided you, making you completely forget about the boss and subordinate relationship that you should follow to the fullest extent.

“Look at me, kid.” he commanded in a soft growl, cupping your chin, pulling your face up and making you look at him, he needed to see your eyes, your sweet eyes and full of delight. “Did you want me from the start?”

You tried to lower your head, but his grip on your chin wouldn't allow it, so you closed your eyes and bit your lip.

"Say it." he ordered.

“Y-Yes, I wanted you from the first time I saw you.” you echoed silly.

“Good girl.” he whispered, taking his hand out of your pants, licking his fingers and pulling your face, kissing you passionately.

“Ouch!” you moaned against his mouth, pulling away and holding your bruised nose, looking at the bandage on your collarbone - which still hurt a lot, and gave him a playful look, which he reciprocated by taking your hand and bringing it to the hard volume in his pants, then he gently kissed the bandage, paralyzing you for a few seconds.

Kishibe gasped as your trembling hands unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants.

He's never been as hungry for a woman as he was for you.

And no, his intention was never to have sex with you when he asked you out to dinner, but once again he had to blame it on that uncomfortable feeling he had towards you. And then, to make matters worse, you had only had two cans of beer and that was enough for you to let go, he liked it at first, he liked it even more when you invited him, laughing, to your apartment for coffee and, by finally, he sent common sense to hell when you couldn't unlock your door and bit your lip, smiling at him in a slurred voice. “Do you want to spend the night? I can make coffee in the morning.”

"Screw this!" he whispered, opening the door and pulling you in by the waist, kissing your open mouth that panted for him.

***

You were so young.

Sitting on a bench in the park, his canteen of drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he watched you while you bought a hot dog, coming back with a smile on your face, it was after one in the afternoon and you had been complaining of hunger since eleven .

“Patrols are like that.” he had said.

He had approved you in training, those crazy weeks of hard training during the day and even more grueling sex at night. Once you had sex for the first time, he couldn't do without your young, healthy body. A good girl, he thought, as he thrust into you, with strength and an absurd desire to consume you, you looked so fragile, already exhausted from a full day of training and covered in the bruises he had inflicted on you, and in that moment, giving it to him and being perfect at holding it, sticking out your wet tongue at him or staring at him with your eyes full of a feeling that made him uneasy.

He destroyed you on the training ground and in your bed.

You were the toy that refused to break, you pushed yourself to your limits for him, refusing to leave him with nothing.

“Inside, please.” you stammered, burying your fingers against the roots of his hair, forcing him to look at you, he was about to come, already pulling his cock out of you to come on your breasts, one of his favorite spots.

Both of you were drenched in sweat, Kishibe was thrusting fast and deep, your favorite time when having conventional vanilla-style sex.

"What?" he growled, panting, resisting the temptation to cup your breasts, glistening with sweat, which swayed with his erratic movements, his gaze arranging for the scar that was marked on your collarbone, marbled into your skin, the cut he gave you, as if it were his signature on you.

“Your cum, I want it inside me, p-please.” you closed your eyes when you felt him touch your sweet spot.

Feeling like he was about to fall apart, Kishibe thrust his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you as he came, deliciously, inside you.

It was like he was going to melt.

***

"Stop this." he ordered in a low tone.

“Screw you.” you returned, sniffling, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

You were in a residential neighborhood, more specifically in the house of a family, the police had called you after reporting a murder case involving devils; the parents were away on work and the children, a boy and a girl, were at home doing their homework when they were attacked by a hungry devil, who tore them apart and devoured them in a matter of minutes.

As much as you'd been at this job for months, cases like this were hard to digest.

“Your reports are very accurate, as always.” said Makima, sitting behind her desk, looking at the paperwork, she put the pile down and looked at Kishibe. “Say, Kishibe-san, does the girl have the aptitude to work in Division 4?”

The question didn't surprise him, but he pondered before answering. You were strong, you gained strength through training, but you were still a sentimental crybaby who didn't know how to deal with the loss. You were competent, no doubt, but the fear Kishibe felt before answering bothered him.

“She is not ready yet.” was all he said, refusing to give Makima what she wanted.

“She already has a contract with a demon.” he heard Makima from the hall, before closing the door. “Please, better you say goodbye, we need promising young hunters in this division.”

"Why are you crying?" he asked, softly, it was the middle of the night, you were naked, in your bed, he was sitting up, drinking - you had already left a sideboard in your room for him, - and you were curled up against the pillow, your arm around his waist.

"I'm not crying." you muttered, your voice muffled against the pillow.

Kishibe pursed his lips after taking a swig of whiskey, uneasy.

How did things get to this point? The thing between you was already beyond sex, you were work and bed partners. Kishibe was old enough to be your father and that seemed to turn you on, and he loved it, becoming addicted to the fascinated gaze you always cast at him after completing a mission or when out on patrol, investigating. You were completely faithful to him, you even managed to let go and be yourself, now and then, dragging him to a kitten fair you saw somewhere or making him pay for overpriced meals at maid cafes.

You lightened his dark reality.

And at times it was almost unbearable.

The thoughts he arrived at, at dawn, were satisfying and sweet, as they involved you, but also, depending on which path they followed, could become tragic and irreversible.

And he didn't like this, this feeling. However, this same feeling burned for you.

Fear? Or, maybe something else?

“Look here, kid.” he called, taking a sip of his whiskey, as soon as you lifted your head from the pillow, he grabbed your cheeks, parting your lips enough for him to spit the alcohol into your mouth, which you swallowed, like the good dutiful girl who you was. “Tell me, what is it?”

You grimaced as you felt the alcohol burning down your throat and you snuggled up in bed before answering, covering your breasts with the sheet, not caring about your messy hair.

“Why do we never go to your house?”

“Because there is not a safe place.”

You lowered your gaze, feeling your eyes water, the fear of losing him consuming you again, you knew it would lead nowhere, this kind of relationship or whatever it was you had. Kishibe wasn't even nice, he was always apathetic or drunk or crazy hot for you, and that was enough, because you were hanging out and working and doing your best, well, at least you were, for him, everything that was customary. And in the moments when Kishibe told you 'That's my girl', you felt like the whole world to this man. He was your master and also your lover, and you admired him so much, always wondering what he had gone through, as a young man, to end up like this, but still keep moving forward.

Kishibe devoted himself entirely to his profession as a hunter, which made you admire and respect him as a professional; your colleagues would ask you what it was like to work with the infamous Kishibe and you'd answer, with a shrug, "It's not easy at all."

You closed your eyes and the tears rolled down your cheeks.

You were in love with this man, and he knew it, and he didn't care one bit.

“You look so pretty when you cry.” you heard his voice, low, followed by his lips on your face, licking away the tear that rolled there.

“And you are so cruel.” you murmured, your voice breaking, letting him cup your face and kiss you, his other hand going to your breasts, his fingers caressing your already hard nipples.

"I'm not cruel, I'm just a bastard waiting for the end." he said against your lips, sliding his hand down your belly and down to your cunt. “Spread your legs for me, love.”

Love.

That word warmed your aching chest as well as caused a new verge of tears.

You gave yourself to him, not complaining that he was, once again, seducing you to end up in sex, instead of talking to you and, in a way, opening up to you.

***

He was so curious about you it was dangerous.

“Why did you want to be a hunter?” he simply asked into the night wind, the cigarette dangling between his lips as he flicked on the lighter.

You were at the back of a cheap ramen restaurant, you had just finished dinner and Kishibe had said he wanted to smoke a cigarette before taking a taxi.

Your mind drifted back to your high school days as you thought about his question, it flew back to you best friend from junior high, you had studied together until the end of high school, and drifted apart during that time; she had met other people and made new friends and you, well, you continued to be friends with her, even though things were never the way they were, and with the end of high school, you split up for good and each went on their own ways, new adult life. The last time you heard about this friend was a few months ago, when the local news reported her death by a devil. You even went to the funeral, it all seemed so strange to you that you couldn't stay there for long.

“I don't really know.” you shrugged. “I had this friend from my teenage days…A devil killed her and… Well, I wasn't doing anything good with my life, and the opportunity just presented itself. You know, it's not this private revenge thing or anything like that.”

"I am really sorry." you heard him wish.

"It's nothing, it's over." you waved your hand vaguely, it really was past, these days all you had was this job and, in a very sad and dark way, Kishibe. Your family was fine, your mother worried about the risks your work offered, but you tried to reassure her during the sporadic visits you made, your family was good to you and all, but you always felt out of place with them, like a defective piece of a puzzle.

The taxi arrived and you got in first, looking at Kishibe, confused, when he closed the car door, stopped on the sidewalk.

"You do not come?" you asked anxiously, watching him duck towards the car window.

“Not today, kid.” he gently touched your chin, his thumb gliding gently over your lower lip. “I need to spend a night without you to see if I can survive.” he stared at you solemnly for countless seconds, causing your chest to burn.

Kishibe gave your address to the taxi driver and paid the fare, watching the car pull away and blend in with the others on the busy avenue. A heavy sigh left his lips, along with the cigarette smoke, his hand drifted to the canteen in his overcoat's inner pocket.

You were the most precious thing he, a selfish old man, could ever have, the best thing that ever happened to him in all these miserable, dark years of hunting devils and losing devoted mates. The simple way your whole face lit up with just a smile, and especially when the smile was caused by him, was something as frightening as it was adorable.

You were his girl, he kept you in control just so you wouldn't realize the power you had over him.

Oh, damn it, he needed to bury that feeling again. Tonight he was going to need to buy more booze.

As soon as you got home, the first thing you did was take a cold shower, hoping it would help calm the agonizing throbbing in your chest. Twenty minutes later, you were curled up on your bed, hugging a shirt of Kishibe's that he'd forgotten there, your eyes closed as you smelled him on the fabric, whiskey and perfume - he'd started wearing woody cologne as soon as you guys broke up of training, you could hardly contain yourself with happiness at the time, when you discovered this detail.

“I'm such a fool.” you muttered against the shirt, smiling as you remembered what he had said before the taxi left.

***

“Hey, old man, do you like my moves?” You smiled and winked at Kishibe, swaying awkwardly towards him, who was leaning against the hood of the car, cigarette in his hand, inches from his dry lips, his gaze might seem empty or far away, but Kishibe was rapturous inside; seeing you completely drunk and free, extremely happy.

It was Saturday night and you were on a beach, the idea, as always, had been yours. You were at your house, anxious and restless, thinking about what Himeno had told you, that she would soon be your senior in the 4th Division, and you found it strange at first, causing an embarrassment in Himeno, who shrugged and apologized, but assured you that the paperwork was on for your transfer, she even tapped you on the shoulder and told you, in a welcoming tone. “Talk to the Master.”

And that had been enough to end your peace of mind.

And when the weekend arrived, there was nothing in this world that would leave you in a state of peace.

So, you accepted the first crazy idea that crossed your mind; call Kishibe, rent a car, buy drinks and hit the road, maybe go to the beach. You were dying to see a bonfire on the beach, it was something that could really calm your mood.

On that night, you would put him against the wall.

The corner of Kishibe's lips curved, as if a tiny smile of pleasure wanted to appear, such was the simple satisfaction he felt when he saw you, there, with a bandana tied around your head, a pair of worn-out jean shorts and a cream sweater, dancing awkwardly, filling your sandals with sand, every now and then he had to warn you not to step on the fire that you had lit yourself - with his help, a you that he was not used to seeing in this last year that you guys lived and worked together, and, damn, how good it was to see you like this.

Maybe part of your relaxation was thanks to the drink, but he didn't care about that at the moment.

You approached him with your bad dance moves, trying to keep up with the seventies music playing on the car radio, you took his cigarette and inhaled, trying to seduce him, but the cough that attacked you after the drag made him smile, and Kishibe was seduced by your sincere attitude.

“Your cigarette is too strong.” you said between coughs, leaning on his shoulder, giving him an amused look when you saw him smile. “I think this is the first time I've seen you smile like that… Are you in love with me or something?” provoked you, not resisting the temptation.

Kishibe took the rest of his cigarette and threw the butt into the fire, he blew the smoke to the side, away from your pleading face, cheeks flushed from the beer you drank all the way to this beach, in that moment, you could ask for the world for him, that he would go to Hell to give it to you.

“You are a tease, you know that?” he arched an eyebrow, pulling you down so he could kiss your neck, his hands slipping inside your cardigan, he felt your skin crawl under his fingers.

“I know, your seductive young student.” you murmured, feeling suddenly betrayed, all the freshness and joy of moments before wafting out of you like Kishibe's cigarette smoke.

Kishibe pulled away from your neck and looked up at you, his hair falling over his wary eyes.

"What?" he questioned, still holding you against him.

"Don't play dumb, this is the last thing since the creation of the world you can be." you rested your hands on his firm chest and pulled away from his embrace, gasping for air, the sudden, painful throbbing in your chest returning full force. “I need more beer.”

You went to the car, took a bottle of beer that was in the cooler in the back seat of the car and closed the door in a slam, already with the open bottle on your lips.

“Hey, take it easy there.” Kishibe appeared at your side, he tried to take the bottle but you pushed him away and walked around the car, following to the bonfire, Kishibe watched you, analyzing all your form and behavior, probably already knowing the cause of everything.

He heaved a heavy sigh, his soul crying out for a shot of whiskey.

As soon as he approached you, still with your back turned, he heard you ask, in a broken voice, against the sound of the waves breaking on the edge of the sea:

“Do you always have affairs with your students?”

“No, you were the first.” he said, the answer was as simple as breathing, he thought.

And then you turned to him, the wind blowing your hair into your teary eyes.

“Then why are you going to abandon me?”

That image broke him completely, Kishibe could have fallen to his knees against the cold sand of that beach, on that windy night, as violent as the regret that took him like an assault. He would rather die a thousand times than have to see you in that state, lost because you were already aware of the end of everything, the end of you two, and that was what hurt him the most.

“You were hired for Division 4 from the start—”

“Then why the hell did you let things get to this point?” you exploded, dropping the bottle onto the sand beside you, Kishibe noticed your scar glistened against the bottle's reflection.

“Because you're amazing,” he said. “And everything I've come to want, besides slaying devils, was seeing your face one more time.”

“Everything is so easy for you, as simple as breathing.” you sniffled.

You lowered your head, crying, let him touch you gently and pull you to him, holding you as you cried against his chest, his hand went up to your head, stroking your hair as you lay there, with your nose against his shirt, you could smell his heady woody scent, the scent you started to miss right away.

“You made me strong enough to live without you…” you whispered, lifting your tear-stained face to his, closing your eyes to his touch on your face, then you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him, his lips were dry. “I can do this, I can do this.” you breathed against his lips, like a mantra you already knew wouldn't be enough. "You are the best." you confessed in a passionate sigh.

Kishibe buried his hands in your hair, commanding the kiss, he would give you what you wanted.

That night, you had sex for the last time, and it was like Heaven.

***

It all happened so fast, like the blink of an eye, one second to the next.

Kishibe and you were having lunch at a restaurant, it was your last patrol together in Division 1, you were wearing the firm's uniform and your hair was tied up in a sloppy way, but that day you looked prettier than any other day you worked together, there, sitting in front of that old blue mosaic wall and eating katsudon, as you always ordered for; maybe it was the regret that this should be your last lunch together being reinforced in Kishibe's mind.

He couldn't continue having this relationship with you when you were in Division 4, it wouldn't work out, one of you would end up being harmed. You were young, you still had a whole career as a hunter ahead of you, you were going to meet new people and was going to date guys your own age who weren't fucked up in the head like he was, and who weren't committed to devils in their lives like him.

"What are you looking at?" You asked, lowering your chopsticks into your bowl, brows furrowed.

Kishibe just watched you for a few seconds, barely supporting it, despite his dead stare.

“You are adorable, kid.” he said in a heavy whisper.

You gave him a small smile, sort of letting your guard down by shrugging your shoulders.

“Listen, Kishibe, why don't you come with me to the priv-” but you couldn't finish your longed-for question, as you had been thrown into the center of the street by something gigantic that rose straight out of the ground, breaking the floor and the walls of the cafeteria, next to the streets and sidewalks, Kishibe had been thrown against the opposite wall of the restaurant.

At the same moment Kishibe was already looking for you, finding you on the other side of the avenue, also standing up, despite the blood staining your white shirt, several citizens were running and screaming everywhere, and Kishibe soon found out why.

A gigantic centipede devil was everywhere, the cylindrical body like that of an earthworm fully popped out from everywhere, its paws were large and scabby, some even had humans impaled on them.

He screamed your name and told you to run away, but you were too lost and scared to listen, there was a cut on your head and all you could do was call the devil you had a contract with to help you with that giant centipede, Kishibe realizes that you did not obey and then ran towards you, invoking several knives and already throwing them against the creature's body, but before he reached you and you could invoke your devil, a long, rigid and pawl sharp had already pierced your body, you spat out a cascade of blood and your vision blurred before going dark.

No!

Please don’t!

Anything but that.

His blood boiled, his body took on reflexes as quick as a ray of light and nothing else in the world existed but the rage of killing this creature, Kishibe no longer had consciousness and was no longer a human being, not while this accursed devil was alive.

Nothing else in the world existed but you.

And that was the thought that took over him completely, when he regained consciousness, a rain had started, washing the greenish blood of the centipede into the drains, already dead and unconscious on the sidewalk, with infinite knives stuck against its skull, far away of you, lying in Kishibe's arms.

The raindrops fell non-stop on your face that was already losing color, Kishibe was already without strength, something he never thought would happen in this life.

“Come on, kid. Don't come to me and die now." he said, destroyed, practically voiceless, feeling all the life draining out of his body along with that rain that wet him to the bone. “Please…” he begged, voiceless, laying his head against yours, waiting for your strength to come out through your mouth.

That was too cruel to be true, not for him, ever, but for you, you didn't deserve this. Kishibe refused to believe his senses, two minutes ago you were alive, young and beautiful in front of him, he even smelled your shampoo, but now, the smell that was on you was metallic and Kishibe couldn't accept that. You couldn't be bloody because you were healthy and you'd be fine, you'd be fine.

Kishibe had committed many crimes and sins in this life, this was probably supposed to be his heinous punishment.

He cupped your head and stroked your wet cheek with his trembling hand.

“Please… I need you.”

That hurt so much, so much that it caused pain in his being, the feeling of not having you anymore, as if you were a piece of him.

And then, one shuddering sigh, brought both you and Kishibe back to life.

"This is funny." you said in a hoarse voice, your eyes practically closed.

Kishibe closed his eyes as relief warmed him, a smile forming on his quivering lips.

“You still will be the cause of my death.” he said, watching the small smile you gave.

***

You woke up with a colossal headache and your whole body aching.

"Good morning, gorgeous." you heard a familiar voice beside you, still lying down and your eyes twitching because of the bright light in the room, you turned your head and found Himeno sitting on a chair beside you, it didn't take long for you to realize you were in a hospital room .

“Himeno?” you questioned, your voice weak as you sat up in bed, grimacing at the pain you felt in your belly and the right side of your torso.

"Hey, take it easy, you're still recovering." Himeno warned, worried, she grabbed a glass of water from the table beside her. “Here, drink some, slowly.”

You accepted the water and drank in short sips, your free hand touching the bandages on your head and the bandages around your entire body.

“How long have I been here?”

Himeno scratched the back of her neck and tried to look away.

"One month." she said.

"One month?" echoed you, in disbelief, your whole body shook and you tried to get up. "I need to get out of here-"

"Hold on, you're still in no shape to get up." Himeno soon tried to hold you and make you lie down on the bed again. “Today or tomorrow Makima will authorize you back to fieldwork… we will be partners in Division 4.” informed Himeno, with a certain regret in her voice. “I'm sorry to tell you this way and here."

And then the memories washed over you like an avalanche.

You didn't want to ask about him, but you didn't care.

“What about Kishibe?”

Himeno shook her head and pursed her lips, she wanted to be the last person in the world to break the news to you.

“He is in China, on a mission.”

And with those words from Himeno, you knew it was over. You wanted to ask her if he had come to visit you, if he said anything about you, but nothing made sense to you at that moment, because you probably wouldn't see him again. You remembered that time when he had said that people with a screw loose live longer or something, and well, you wish you had learned to be like him, maybe it would have been easier.

Tears were already spilling out of your eyes and running down your face, you touched your scar on your collarbone, as a certificate that the time you spent together, the life you lived with him had been real.

Yes, it had been real, and it had never hurt as much as it did now.

#kishibe x reader #csm #chainsaw man #csm fanfic #fem reader #vilsoo collab #smut #ultraviolence collab

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lokitvsource · 8 months

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Loki Season 2's Press Tour Is Continuing Without Tom Hiddleston & Co.

The ongoing Hollywood strikes have made an impact on the promotion of Disney+’s Loki Season 2.

The fan-favorite Asgardian trickster Loki, as portrayed by Tom Hiddleston, will return for another season imminently. A second run for his self-titled Disney+ show hits in early October.

The Writers Guild of America and the Screen Actors Guild have been on strike for months now. A conclusion to these work stoppages doesn’t seem to be on the horizon either, resulting in a wave of delays for several high-profile film and TV projects.

And, of course, SAG-AFTRA members have also been barred from promoting struck work, per union regulations.

Tom Hiddleston Won’t Be Promoting Loki

Due to the still-ongoing SAG-AFTRA strike, the stars of Loki Season 2 will not be permitted to do any press for the show. This includes actors like Tom Hiddleston, Owen Wilson, and Sophia Di Martino. Any members of the WGA, which is also currently striking, will follow suit until a new agreement is reached with the studios.

To counteract this, Marvel Studios has sent Kevin Wright, an executive producer on Loki, to engage with the press and promote the series’ second season. Wright was seen at the recent Destination D23 presentation, where he spoke to attendees about what the God of Mischief will get up to next.

Marvel recently delayed a large swath of its Disney+ projects, including Echo and Daredevil: Born Again. Loki’s release plan, however, remained intact.

When Will the Hollywood Strikes Be Over?

It’s the question on everyone’s mind: when will Hollywood’s writers and actors be back to work? The short answer: no one knows, but potentially not soon.

The longer answer? The Writers Guild of America will keep striking until it makes what it deems is a fair deal with the AMPTP, which is the group through which the film studios negotiate.

The writers have demands that they feel must be met by management, including concerns over pay, residuals, and the use of artificial intelligence.

Only after the WGA has squared up with the studios will the AMPTP open negotiations with SAG-AFTRA.

In August, an offer was extended to the writers, which they promptly blasted as being ”not nearly enough.” Since then, things have been in a holding pattern, and neither side has returned to the bargaining table yet.

Marvel Studios’ Loki Season 2 premieres on Wednesday, October 6.

#loki tv #loki series #loki season 2 #tom hiddleston #loki #s2 #article

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64yrsold · 1 year

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somebody else

“Excuse me,” he said, two fingers at my elbow, “Is anyone sitting here?” He looked at me with curious eyes, a lonely dark curl obscuring his forehead. I took in the tailored cut of his suit, fitting tight to his wide shoulders and landing squarely at his wrists. My eyes dropped to the ink peeking from his unbuttoned collar, the blinding white of his shirt contrasting the rest of his dark features.

He cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” I breathed, offering him a polite smile, “Sure, you can sit.”

“Thanks,” he returned my smile, sitting at the bar beside me. He waved to the bartender, “I’ll have the same,” he pointed to my wine glass.

“This might be too sweet for you,” I turned the stem between my fingers, taking a slow sip. I enjoyed the way his eyes followed my wrist, snapping back to his hands when I tried to meet his gaze.

“What makes you say that?” he frowned, head low. I glanced down the curve of his nose, letting myself admire the perfect pink of his lips. His breathing quickened at my shameless stare.

“Just a feeling,” I smiled, and he bit his lip. He propped his elbow up on the bar, turning the stool to face me. He laid his cheek on his fist, narrowing his eyes.

“Do I know you?” he asked with a smirk, tongue wetting his bottom lip. The action turned my heart.

“I don’t think so,” I shook my head slowly, “I don’t know you.”

“Too bad,” he pouted, his wine arriving. He took a sip, letting me watch the profile of his throat move with each swallow. “I’d like to know you, I think.”

“Mm, you would,” I agreed, earning a laugh.

“Then tell me something about yourself,” he said, staring at his hands again.

“Let me think,” I sighed, bringing my index to my chin. This caught his attention, eyes trained on my finger pressing into the soft flesh of my lip. “Well, I’m staying here tonight.”

“At this hotel?” he tapped the bar with his knuckles.

“Yes, here,” I nodded, “On the twelfth floor.”

“So am I,” he raised his eyebrows. His hand slid slowly towards me, staying in contact with the surface of the counter. “Are you staying with anyone?”

“No,” my voice was honey-like, “Are you?”

He shook his head, another curl dropping onto his forehead. He delicately reached for my hand, and I let him slip his fingers under mine. His thumb brushed over my fourth finger.

“No ring?” he mumbled, his hand radiating heat.

“No,” I watched his thumb circle my ring finger. His eyebrows drew together, and he leaned forward. His other hand cautiously trailed up my knee.

“No ring… At all?” I could hear the heartbeat in his voice, and I let a smile slip. I pulled at the chain around my neck, revealing the wedding band that was hidden under my neckline. He sighed, bringing my hand to his lips. “Had me worried, there.”

“Sorry,” I whispered, his matching band glinting against the black fabric of my dress as his hand pressed into my thigh.

“Which room are you in?” he asked, breathing into my ear. His nose nudged at my cheek.

“That’s very forward,” I scolded, trying to quiet my gasps as he kissed at my cheek, “Does that line usually work?”

“Don’t know yet,” he groaned into my skin, “You tell me.”

#matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #Spotify

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im-sew-curious · 3 months

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Isn't it glorious?

It’s here! I finally tackled my analysis of Key’s gold Gasoline era costume, worn in his music video for the song, photoshoots, a stage performance at the Inkigayo show, and a live performance at SM Town 2022. I’ll discuss everything from the fabrics used, the gloves, the shoes, complain about the zipper, talk about whatever the heck jumps are, break down all of the tiny little types of ornamentation (including the things I don’t actually know the name for) and more.

It’s scary in the best way. Buckle up. Grab some coffee or tea or vodka and a blanket.

I want to preface this by saying that this is going to be VERY long. I’ve polled my followers and nearly everyone said they want me to get as granular as I want. So I’m doing that. If that’s not your thing, here’s your exit ramp now. I get it. This is absurd.

You can also read it on my Twitter here. It actually has a LOT of bonus photos because they only allow me to have 30 on here, if you’re interested in seeing more. It may help clarify some things, as well.

Now then. Welcome to those who are left. Let’s begin!

Costumes by Dénicheur by Seo Seung Yeon

For his Gasoline era, Key has had four costumes designed and made by Dénicheur by Seo Seung Yeon, a Haute Couture Designer House that, among other things, makes elaborate costumes for Kpop performers. They’ve got an amazing Instagram portfolio to check out. They made him a gold and black costume for his G.O.A.T in the Keyland concert, the blue and white one for the Gasoline MV, this gold one, and a cream and gold beaded jacket for the 2023 SM Town Concert.

This fashion house’s trademark is intricately beaded, appliquéd…encrusted…costumes. I was able to get some high quality photos from some of you (thanks so much!) And the more I looked, the more I discovered.

If this were a piece of art (well, it is, but not in the same way) “Mixed Media” is what I’d call it. There are literally over twenty different types of beading techniques, appliqués, various types of sequins, trims, braids, rhinestones, chains, and more.

First, I’ll do an overview of the garments themselves, and then I’ll move on to the ornamentation.

The top (it’s not a jacket, it’s not really a shirt, it’s not a tunic. So I’m going with “top”) has a very boxy torso with exaggerated wide, padded shoulders. They’re completely squared. There are straight sleeves—not too slim, not too bulky. There’s a heavily ornamented oversleeve that reaches down to about his elbows and a “nude” colored full length under sleeve. It also has heavily ornamented cuffs at the bottom the sleeve. It has an exposed zipper up the center back that goes up into a short turtleneck collar. The collar and a portion of the lower neck back region are sheer with some beading and appliqués. There are sheer spirals around his arms and in chevrons on his front and scooping around to his back.

Just LOOK AT that masterpiece

The trousers are closely cut through the waist, hips, and thighs but become a bit wider at the knee. It looks like they were made full length but are always worn bunched up over knee high boots. They close at the center front with a very beautifully set fly zipper and flat trouser hook and bar. It’s so low profile that it wasn’t until I got some 4K images that I was even sure of where they closed. It was like he had been sewn in. I wrote a whole thread about it on Twitter that reads like a mystery novel, though I already spoiled the ending for you. Sorry.

The top is made of what is probably a “nude” (aka specially dyed to his skin tone) base fabric to hold the structure, with the ornamentation stitched over top. The external stabilizing fabric is what appears to be some sort of jacquard, possibly silk.

Jacquard is a type of weave, where the fabric is made of long and short “up and down” stitches of sorts, to make a pattern. Because some of the time it uses longer “stitches” on top, it becomes more vulnerable to the fiber breaking and makes it become kind of “fuzzy” looking. This can be especially true if it’s a natural fiber that usually has less structural integrity than a synthetic one. I initially thought this had started to happen on Key’s rear, but after a very close zoom in, I think that’s just a bit of appliqué edge pulling up. I think maybe one of his mic packs is down there too, but I’m really not an expert in that. I did the research so you don’t have to, folks.

Left: A type of jacquard fabric. The shine comes from the longer top threads, contrasting with details of shorter threads. Right: Is it an applique or is it some snagged fibers? Ultimately, I think it's an applique edge.

Perhaps the most interestingly nerdy thing about jacquard is that it was originally made on a loom that led to the creation of computer programming by utilizing a sort of “binary code.” There were punchcards that showed the strands of fibers when to go up and down. Like “holes and not holes” in which to weave.

A Jacquard Machine Loom with punchcards that create the desired design on the fabric

It’s important to note that this fabric needs to have some stretch because it is also used to make his very tight fitting trousers. If it were not a stretch fabric, he wouldn’t be able to do this like THIS or…most things, really.

Even though the jacquard is stretchy, it has some structure to it. It’s used as a stabilizer in between the “flesh mesh” on the outer layer. (aka power net, stretch mesh... There are many names!) It forms the base on which the majority of the ornamentation is stitched.

Flesh mesh is a stretchy mesh fabric dyed to the performer’s skin color and is used to give the illusion that you’re seeing their skin, but it gives much more strength than just a cutout. I wrote a thread about flesh mesh and the importance of taking into consideration the performer’s actual skin tone when building them a costume here

In this case, flesh mesh allows for adornment of these areas, as well. It’s important to note that, even though it’s a separate layer over the base, it is “tacked” through all layers in a regular fashion so it doesn’t droop with the weight of all of the ornamentation.

There are also some parts that have metallic gold applied pieces. This was probably made of a beefy metallic spandex applied on top of the base rather than some solid pleather, due to way it behaves on the body. The latter would have been way too rigid in comparison to the rest of the fabrics.

Heavy gold stretch spandex, forming a chevron on which to affix beads and other trims

Okay. Range of movement time. You know how I love discussing this. That’s because it’s the single most important aspect of costumes for dancers.

Let’s talk armpit gussets. They’re an American football shaped piece of fabric that is stitched in the armpit partially to the sleeve underarm, and partially to the torso underarm. It’s often made of a stretch fabric, but sometimes it’s out of the original “fashion fabric,” which is what we call the main garment fabric.

Gussets out of different fabrics under each underarm. You can see the gold bunch under his arm when it's at his side

It allows the performer to more easily move their arms above their chest and head to help keep the top from riding up. You can see in this photo, though, that it does bunch up a little when his arm is down, because of the extra fabric. It has to go somewhere when it’s not taut.

With this particular top, it’s interesting to note that, due to the asymmetrical decoration of his arms, one gusset is the gold stretch fabric and the other is the jacquard. That means that, either both fabrics have the exact same stretch, or his arms may be SLIGHTLY more limited on one side than the other. That’s fun! I really geeked out about this observation.

Often with jackets for dancers, they’ll have what are called “commodity pleats” around the center back shoulder area. They’re a sort of sneaky hidden accordion-like bit of fabric that stretches out during movement that may otherwise split the back open. Taemin uses them a LOT. But, since this top is so boxy, Key doesn’t need them in this instance. He already had the room he needed without any other accommodations.

They put commodity pleats in the back of most of Taemin's closer fitting jackets. I wish they'd make them the same color as his jackets, though!

With Key’s trousers, we’ve already established that they’re made of a fabric with a decent amount of stretch. But since I can’t find many good photos of his bottom half, I’m unsure about if he also has “crotch gussets.”

By this point, I’m kind of notorious as being the “crotch gusset person.”

The following posts explain them in much more detail, but basically, they’re long triangular wedges that start in the trouser crotch and taper down to nothing in the inseam. These are often put in trousers of dancers when people need a better range of movement.

I wrote about this in detail regarding Taemin’s pleather pants he wore in his Metamorph concert, as well as all of SHINee in the Your Number dance video. You can find my posts on the subject here:(Metamorph) (Your Number)

Jinki rocking a black crotch gusset in SHINee's "Your Number" Performance Video (Black Version)

Gussets allow for extra room and movement when one is trying to do extreme leg movements like squatting. Unfortunately, I don’t have many good photos of his inseam. There’s so much going on with appliqués and piecing of mesh vs jacquard, it’s hard to tell. Part of the front half of his trousers is flesh mesh, swirling around them. The other parts are the jacquard, whereas the back is all jacquard.

I saw one photo which made me begin to wonder if the inseam is a little further forward than it could be, though. That could mean there IS a gusset. I’m really not sure...I don't have official visual confirmation, but now you know more about crotch gussets either way. You’re welcome.

That seam line is up a bit more forward than usual. It really has me wondering, because that would happen if there was a gusset installed. Hmmmm.

Okay. Zipper education time. I apologize in advance. Things get spicy but I tried to tamp it down. The center back (abbreviated as “CB” in the industry) of the top has an exposed zipper. This means exactly what it sounds like: it’s exposed. You look at it, and it looks like there’s a zipper right there. It’s not hidden. Sometimes it’s a perfect match, and sometimes it’s “featured.” Exposed zippers actually become a trend every once in a while in everyday fashion.

I thought it was extremely interesting that, on this elaborate costume, they chose to use a zipper with metallic teeth on white “tape.” (The fabric on the sides of the teeth.) It was a huge disappointment for me, actually. I would have loved to have seen the zipper more carefully hidden like his fly was.

Hello, zipper. I see you loud and clear!

I have to comment a bit on what I view as the one flaw in this otherwise perfect costume. I will preface this by saying that I was not in the fitting room where this was conceived, and I don’t know about any extenuating circumstances and the reasoning behind this decision. But there a few things that I would have done differently regarding the zipper and back collar of this top if were to have made it.

But first: some zipper education. Besides exposed, there are center lapped, as well as regular lapped zippers. With the center lap, it’s like the fabric covers your zipper but you can pull the zipper down through it. Your hoodie probably has one. The regular lap zipper is more like your trouser fly in that there is one flap of fabric that covers the whole zipper, hiding it.

Top: Exposed. (Though it has a matching zipper and zipper tape.) Bottom Left: Center Lapped. Right: Regular Lapped.

Either of those types could have been used to make the zipper more discreet. I personally would have chosen to use a regular lapped zipper, which is less likely to get snagged than a center lapped zipper.

People have defended the exposed zipper by asking if it’s because it’s less likely to get caught. I very much get this argument, and, technically it’s right.

But, in my extensive experience, I don’t think I can recall a case of an exposed zipper in the back of a costume, quick change or no. It’s unattractive. (Not to mention a dead giveaway in a period garment!)

If it’s sewn well and tested, with the correct size lap and no loose fabric, it will work just fine. There should be a hook and eye at the top to make sure that it stays secure while dancing.

Part of being a good dresser is being methodical and purposeful, not frantically zipping something up in a way that is more prone to snagging. They keep their cool, perhaps taking a couple more seconds but ensuring that they pull it up smoothly. They use their fingers to block the overlap as they guide the zipper up.

(Random side note: I met a dresser once who preferred zippers be installed upside down for their quick changes. Hey, whatever works best for them! I wonder how they discovered that…)

I will also note that, as far as I’m aware, the only times he’s worn this costume, he didn’t need to get in or out of it quickly. I know that he wore it in the MV, the Inkigayo performance, and the photoshoot. He also performed at SM Town Tokyo 2022, though he had 11 songs during which to change between Bad Love and this. He never wore this look at his G.O.A.T. in the Keyland concert. Oh, and the collab with the Jinro frog. I’ll talk about that later.

So ultimately, all of the zipper quick change talk is for nothing. There COULD have been a chance that this was going to be worn during his concert, I suppose. But if not, in the end, I can find no reason that there needed to be an exposed zipper other than: they wanted it that way.

Sorry for that rant. I know that it was intense. I just…wish it were pretty. That’s all. I know it wouldn’t have bothered most people, but I personally think that the costume deserved better!

Well then. They arranged the symmetrical beaded appliqué motifs so they didn’t interfere with the center back line, so it wasn’t an issue being all chonky around the zipper.

Unfortunately, since the zipper was built into the neck with just the “stretch mesh,” it moves very differently than the rest of the top. It has a substantially weaker structural makeup and it can’t support itself the same, so it stretched at a different rate than the zipper on the solid fabric on the bottom. It kind of “bubbled” when he moved and it rode up.

Showing the neck bubbling, and, on the bottom left photo, you can see that there is some sheer stabilizer to ensure that the zipper doesn't just tear out of the sheer net.

It couldn’t have been helped unless that whole back neck area had been backed with the solid nude base fabric. That’s what I would have done, personally. But using the stabilizer helped a bit. Without it, it may have not lasted a performance.

I don’t know why they did it that way, but the result was rather disappointing to me, especially considering the care that was taken with the rest of the garment.

Okay. End rant. The rest of the costume is EXQUISITE.

One more thing to note is that the zipper terminates about 4” above the top’s bottom hem. It is right around where his waist is. It was built that way to ensure that he was able to move his legs and hips comfortably without getting hung up anywhere.

His knee high boots were covered with the same peach jacquard as his top, as well as utilizing the gold fabric to serve as ornamental buckled straps.

The stretch element of the jacquard is further showcased by the fact that it pulls over the boot toe smoothly, with little issue. A completely stable fabric wouldn’t be able to do that.

Now for the ornamentation. Oooooh boy. There are around twenty types of various adornments on this costume, and I thought I’d highlight some of them.

I can spy about 15 different types of ornamentation here alone.

Beaded appliques at the neckline

Heavy chains

Rhinestone appliques and/or individual rhinestone pieces

Bugle bead chevrons

Gold round beads

Yellow individual small rhinestones

Grey beads in between bugle beads

Gold and silver flat braid trim

Gold stretch fabric

Round flat decorative chain

Hanging paillettes

Dark seed beads with some of the paillettes

Gold dangling lil dudes

A sequined applique peeking out from behind a chain

Utilizing the main fabric as a chevon stabilizer as a design detail

About paillettes: these might actually be my favorites. They’re like “floppy sequins” that only have one hole at an edge. They’re made of a very lightweight plastic, so they’re virtually silent. If you wear a dress completely covered in paillettes, you’ll just hear a little rustle. In this case, his were mainly attached via dangly wires as fringe around the upper sleeves. There are a few other random instances throughout the garment where they’re stitched on individually. You can read more about paillettes in my post here.

Appliqués: There are at least three different types of appliqués in this costume:

Beaded

Lace

Sequined

Rhinestone

Appliqués are premade decorative pieces. It looks like someone hand beaded everything on the costume, but they were able to take a shortcut by using these. So no, contrary to what you might believe, there wasn't someone laboriously hand beading every single thing on to this costume.

It still takes FOREVER to invisibly stitch each motif on to the costume as well as, in this case, sometimes layer upon layer. A lot of them are attached to a net base, and in closeups, I saw how they trimmed the net away closely around the motifs.

On the top, we have the gold paisley sequined appliques. On his trousers, you can see the low profile lurex embroidered lace appliques. Bottom left, you can see the beaded and rhinestone applique. And on the right, beaded appliques. You can see that they're over flesh mesh so, when it's on Key, it just looks like he has a beaded collar.

The sequined, beaded paisley motifs are the most prominent and plentiful form of appliqués, focusing around the top’s cuffs and lower edge. They’re also heavily featured spiraling around the trousers. There are even some appliqués stitched across the seams of the trousers and top.

There are some huge, gorgeous bead and rhinestone appliqués, like this one on his right bicep that you can see in the photo above.

There’s also the Lurex lace (metallic threaded) embroidered appliqués that concentrate mostly on his trousers' waist and hips. It’s low profile without any bits that might snag the top while moving. They added a few jewels to it further down once it was no longer posing any danger to snags. There are also a few flat appliqués on his rear, so as to not make sitting uncomfortable but still be adorned.

Beads and gemstones: There are also individual beads and jewels both sewn and what appears to be discreetly glued on as accents. A popular adhesive we use for that sort of application is called E6000. It bonds pretty much everything from plastic, leather, metal, rubber, and wood. It’s like a slower acting super glue, but is more flexible.

You definitely need to use this in a ventilated area or, ideally, with a respirator. The fumes are no joke! There are little chevrons made out of long tubular metallic bugle beads that were probably glued instead of stitched on. There are also round bronze beads and gold rhinestones glued to the edges of the metallic fabric.

There are little dangling gold dudes, though I don’t know what they’re officially called. There are individual sew on rhinestones. There are circular decorative flat chains. There is gold beaded fringe at the wrists of the sleeves.

Top left: gold braid, beads and chains are heavily featured. Top right: the dangling gold dudes. I don't know what to call them. Bottom left: Paillettes, hanging on gold wires on the upper sleeve hem. Bottom right: Gemstones highlighting the center of the chest, with a whole organized, beautiful mess of braid, beads, etc.

There’s gold flat “braid” trim that also looks like it has a bit of silver in it to add dimension. It’s basically like a braided ribbon, often in metallic colors. It’s used a lot in military uniforms.

And there are a few other various random beads and trims that show up amongst the circus of adornment.

The layout of the overall design is asymmetrical, with left and right arms and legs that don’t match. However, the front of the top is completely symmetrical (which is extremely impressive) except for a few rampant rhinestones that intentionally deviate a bit. Here’s an abomination I made of the sleeves next to each other to see the asymmetry more clearly.

I THINK (not based on this photo but others that aren't Frankensteined together with different perspectives) that the sleeves are actually different lengths as well.

Something that I should cover is that with garments made out of a stretch fabric, like Key’s trousers in this case, stitching on something non-stretchy (like some appliqués) can be fraught. The appliqué can keep the fabric from stretching as much as it needs to accommodate a body in it, and it might tear off.

Sometimes, we need to stretch the fabric a bit as we sew on the motif so it will look normal when a leg is in it. It may look a bit puckered when it’s not being worn. The good news is that it appears that most of the motifs in this costume are on what is most likely a mesh backing, so they probably didn’t have to deal with that headache here!

Since the motif on the Jacquard fabric is pretty small, as well as the fact that some of the appliqués wrapped across the side seams, “pattern matching” wasn’t a big priority on this. However, it’s always preferable to keep the motifs at the same horizontal height. This is a REALLY small pattern, so it wouldn't matter terribly, plus the fact that it was so covered it can hardly be seen. There WAS a point on the right side seam where the pattern did match, but the fabric slightly torqued on the left so it didn’t. All in all, it wasn’t a big deal whatsoever. If it were a bigger print though, it could have been. I made a thread about pattern matching here. It's a subject I'm pretty passionate about!

This side seam was cut so that, at a fixed point, the motif was all at the same level horizonatally at there was a part where the motif perfectly matched up to create one complete one. Because there are curves in the seam, it can't do that everywhere.

Now for a bit of a departure: SHINee and its members have done a few collabs over the years, dancing with the frog mascot from Jinro soju. SHINee did one for Don’t Call Me, Taemin did one for Move, and Key did one for Gasoline.

They dressed the frog up like Key, complete with jewels and chains! It was precious. SO GOOD. Watch it now. I also bring this up because that video was the resource I used to figure out where the gold chains on Key’s top were “tacked” (AKA stitched to keep it held down strategically.) It was a nice close-up view. Thanks, Jinro frog!

(Side note: I have made mascots before and it's ironic because they freak me out. I also refurbished a hot dog mascot that had gotten too gross after public appearances over a decade. My life is weird.)

I love how scaled-back but accurate the frog's costume was.

Through the magic of the Jinro frog, I found the answer to the question “where were the chains tacked?” Here. Enough that they still have independent swing and look natural, but frequent enough to keep them from smacking him in the face. Based on the way they move, I think that is metallic coated plastic and not actual metal. Also, for safety's/comfortability's sake! You don't want to be thumped in the chest with every move.

Here's where the chains were tacked

Someone asked me how much they thought this costume weighed. My answer?

I really have no idea…but probably not NEARLY as much as it looks? I'm like 99.9% sure the chains aren't actual metal. I’m not sure if the “jewels” are glass or plastic. The tiiiiiny “seed beads” and "bugle beads" are glass, but there aren’t enough that they would weigh a significant amount. There's a lot of gold braid on there that's very lightweight. A lot of what you see are layered appliqués with sequins and seed beads, which weigh nearly nothing. The dangling paillettes are just a light plastic.

For the garments themselves, as we’ve established, the are a few layers of fabric and mesh, which aren’t very heavy. Because of the “encrusted” nature of the ornamentation, of course, it still weighs a bit more than just a regular top, and is probably kind of rigid on the front. However, it’s not like he’s dancing around in chainmail.

Lastly, there are his gloves. His left one is made out of that heavy gold stretch fabric that was incorporated into the rest of his costume, and his right was also made out of a flesh mesh. From the way it behaves in this photo, it appears to be a much heavier mesh than the top and trousers.

The right glove has thicker mesh that almost appears to have a natural fiber content that is getting snagged. It doesn't completely conform to the skin like a tight flesh mesh would.

The gloves are heavily ornamented with appliqués and beads. I’m going to guess that these were actually custom made for him, which is a big deal. I know very little about glove making, except it involves a TON of pieces to be done right. Gussets in between the fingers to make them slim and elegant and such. No Mickey Mouse hands here.

Stitching the ornamentation on to gloves is pretty difficult work. You either need a hand form and a curved needle or a very brave stitcher who uses their own hand as a form (palm up.) I haven’t done that for gloves, specifically, but I have been a “sacrificial hand” for other situations. I’m so calloused in most places, I don’t really feel much anymore!

There’s one more aspect to this costume that was seen in the intro for his Gasoline Inkigayo performance: the cloak. He didn’t wear it for very long, but it appears to button across his chest to the other shoulder with snaps underneath. The snaps keep the underlap from peeking out from…under the lap.

It looks like they might have had a wardrobe emergency here, because you can see that two of the three snaps were hastily stitched on with red thread. The ornamentation is asymmetrical, mostly focused on his right side. On his left shoulder, there is a decorative beaded “epaulette.” Those are the ornamental shoulder pieces you often see on military dress uniforms.

Left: The full cloak. You can see the facing on the inside edges, made of the same fabric as the outside. I'll write about that in a bit, and I'll show you a closer view later. Top right: The red thread holding on the upper snaps. Bottom right: Metallic epaulette.

It’s hooded and made out of the same jacquard fabric as the rest of his costume, and it has a satin lining the same color as the “fashion fabric.” It appears to be about calf length. One of the photos I found actually has a shot that shows the facing, the lining, and how the hem is done. Of course, I nerded out. It’s “self faced,” which means that there’s the same fabric that’s on the outside making up the “facing.” The facing is the first ten inches or so of the inside edge of the cloak. It makes a pretty transition from the outside to the inside, without a harsh switch to lining.

Then, there’s the hem.

While attached at the top, the hem of the lining and the outer fashion fabrics are allowed to “hang out” separately while on a dress form. Because fabrics stretch out at different rates (and it also changes by the direction they’re cut from the fabric, but that’s a whole different lesson…) it’s ideal for something like this to hang on a dress form and do its thing for a day or so.

In an ideal world, you’d have a fitting with your performer and you would mark a “level line” on them while they’re wearing the cloak (and also the shoes they will be wearing. Different shoes can change a lot!)

There are several different ways you can mark a hem. You can safety pin it up the way you want it, using a ruler measuring up from the floor to keep it even. But this can be awkward and clunky.

Or you can safety pin a “level line” and say that it’s, for instance, 18” off the ground, and you’d like the hem to be 16” off the ground. You’d draw a new hemline 2” down from the pins. It's the easiest way to know what's level and then decide exactly what you want to do later.

OR you can use what I call “the poofer” which is a little measuring stick on a tripod with chalk and a rubber squeezy ball that poofs chalk into a line at a set height, instead of dealing with pins. But sometimes the chalk doesn’t like to brush away, so that’s a bit of a risk in exchange for convenience.

First, let’s talk about hemming the outside cloak fabric. Because it may have stretched out unevenly, you may have wildly different hems lengths now that they’ve been “leveled.” Let’s say we’ll leave 6” of “hem allowance” to fold up into the garment so it can be lengthened later if we need to. You’ll trim the rest of it away. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve altered hem lengths on cloaks over the years! I'm always grateful to have extra.

You may want to finish the hem with a “serger” or “overlock” machine, which is the sewing machine that uses 3-4 threads to sew things, often stretch, together and kind of seals off the edges. It’s probably what stitches together the side seams of your t-shirt or hoodie or lounge pants or basically anything stretchy. It’s used to keep hems and the edges of fabrics inside garments from fraying. Sometimes people don’t do it, especially since it's inside, but it’s nice if you’re planning on altering it or if the fabric is really prone to fraying.

The cloak fabric is then thoroughly pinned and hand stitched up. There are many different sneaky stitches which grab a few threads at a time from the front of the fabric and are virtually invisible. Everyone has their favorites. My personal favorite is the “vertical hemming stitch” or “vertical blind hem.” I like it because it holds the inner hem and the outside of the cloak more tightly together than a lot of other styles. The “cross stitch” which is called the “blind catch stitch” here in this diagram is one of the most popular methods. However, I feel it can be a bit too loose some times and is more likely to be caught on something. The one downside of the vertical blind hem is that, if you pull it too tight, it’s more likely to show from the outside. It takes a very sensitive hand to get it right. The lining is usually slip-stitched to the cloak hem.

Once you’ve got your level line of your fashion fabric, it goes back on the dress form. I’m…not entirely sure I’ll do a good job explaining this because I work best with showing things with points and grunts. My apologies.

You mark the lining to match the level where the hem of the fashion fabric ends. You decide how far up from the bottom of the hem you want the lining to end (in this case, 4”.) So normally, you think you'd fold it up 4", right? Ha! You subtract two inches from that number. This means you’ll be folding up only two inches of lining. But, since we will be stitching it 4” up from the hem, that means there’s a floppy extra two inches. (Cue Advice.) What’s that for? Now I have to tell you about “jumps.”

Jumps are a sneaky trick. This method is used in suit coat hems and sleeve linings as well. Basically, they’re a way to give a little bit of wiggle room with the length of the lining to hem interaction.

After the fashion fabric is hemmed, you hand stitch the lining 4” up from the hem. You have two extra inches of lining. One extra inch of lining is pressed down so there’s an extra inch of “underlap". This photo (top right) showed me that they had done this to Key’s cloak. You can see it stretched out with the pressed line on the left, and it is folded over on the right.

Left: The "self fabric facing" at the center front inside of the cloak. Top right: The cloak hem showing the underside of the "jump" (left) and it down in its "resting" position (right). Bottom right: the "poofer." They're marking a level line.

If you want to get even MORE granular, that is considered a “soft press”, which means that the iron steams and very lightly rests on the fabric. A “hard press” is what it sounds like. Squish that lil dude and steam the heck out of it. That line is never gonna come out.

Okay. Enough of that. I can’t believe myself.

I could literally discuss this costume inch by inch, but I think I’ve covered it enough that you can peruse it yourself if you’d like and kind of know what you’re looking at.

I deeply admire and respect the, perhaps, 100+ hours of craftspersonship that it took to make this stunning costume. Don’t even ask me what it cost to make!

Do check out the Instagram of @denicheur.official where you can see other costumes they’ve worked on for groups like IVE, Enhypen, Stray Kids and more. They’ve got an amazing portfolio to drool over.

I hope you’ve gained an even greater appreciation for this gorgeous look, and the knowledge you’ve gained here can go forward with you as you enjoy future costumes! And thanks so much for sticking with me. I hope it was worth it!

#Shinee key #Key shinee #kpop #kpop costume #kpop costumes #Key #shinee #costume design #costume construction #costumes #gold costume #costume analysis #fashion analysis

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