l'heure bleue

[ MAXENCE NILSSON. 30. CIS MAN. HE/HIM ] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ 9 YEARS ] and are originally from [ PARIS, FRANCE ]. They are a [ MODEL ] and in their downtime love [ FIGHTING CLIMATE CHANGE ] and [ PRETENDING HE ISN’T VAIN ]. They look a lot like [ BILL SKARSGÅRD ] and live [ ON SILVERWOOD TERRACE ].

Remi ran to her front toor when she heard the knock, almost slipping when she attempted to brake suddenly. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, throwing the door open and pulling him inside. “You’re the best.” She took the bag out of his hand, seeing he had his hands more than full. Taking a peak inside, she brightened at the sight of the supplies. This was right up her alley. “Oh my god, how did you know I love arts and crafts? These are going to look so good. Even better than the boring terracotta pot the plant was in before.” She sat down cross-legged in front of the mess and started dumping dirt in the plastic bottles. “Sorry for making you come all the way here. I’m really glad you did, though, because this happens to be my favorite plant.”

-

Maxence thanked his friend as she took some of the supplies from him. “You struck me as a creative,” he replied warmly as he followed her inside. After quickly setting the rest of the things down where she had put them, he turned to find her on the floor handling the mess. “Do you need help with that?” He asked leaning casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets, not wanting to have to touch the dirt if he could help it. When she began to apologize, Maxence gently shook his head. “It’s not a bother. I have been taking it easy at work and.. well, with everything lately so you are actually doing me a favor by giving me something to do,” he smiled over at her. “I am curious to know how you knocked it over, though. Haven’t gotten a hold of your telepathic powers yet?” He jokingly suggested.

lottie: erm... long enough?

lottie: ... of you.. .quite a few... you should really stop getting drunk around me dude.

lottie: this is my fave though.

max: it's against the rules to have a bad photo of me

max: the truest cardinal sin, in fact

Sage took a step back to really study Maxence’s handiwork. Brightly colored bulbs twinkled back at her and, instead of being filled with the holiday spirit, she frowned. “You know what? Those are festive,” she said, using the same verbiage she had earlier when she insisted the colored lights would be perfect outside, “but they don’t scream Christmas to me. The white ones would be way better.”  Maybe under different circumstances she would feel bad for her indecisiveness but this was serious business. Holiday decorating was no joke. Besides, it was hard to be even remotely apologetic when he took that tone with her. “Because,” she shot back, “it’s important to have a variety. And, yeah, it’s one house, but with rooms inside it. What, do you think the festivities just stop at the front door?”

Maxence would have been satisfied with knowing that ‘variety is important,’ but upon hearing that she intended to put more up inside her house, he almost fell off the ladder. Realizing the risk he was making by even talking to Sage while still at its top, he quickly hung up the string’s end and climbed down so he could properly express his frustration with her. “You said this would be quick. What do you mean the festivities don’t end here? We still have to put up those ridiculous snowmen and elves,” Maxence gestured to the inflatable things, which he knew would be relatively quick compared to putting up the lights, but he still felt as though she needed reminding of what was left to do outside. 

“I do enough to spare,” She started with a smirk, tossing her long locks aside. “But do I want to? No. I like spending my money on things that are useful to me. And a homeless person is definitely not one of them. Unless they deal coke, then that’s a different story.”

-

“Now you’re starting to sound like a king talking about his subjects,” the Frenchman laughed before adding, “and the ‘holy’ person that gives him ‘medicine.’ “ Maxence’s eyes darted to Maya’s purse, wondering if she had any of mentioned drug on her. He didn’t doubt, but he also wasn’t normally one to engage in such activities. Keeping up with not having been quite himself lately, however, he decided to ask, “Do you happen to have any holy men to call?”

Sweetness coated her tongue, a soft hum of approval as Maxence bit down. She knew that it was purposeful, letting her taste the same thing at the same time as him; the understanding of his motives sent a shiver through her causing her hands to drop and sink against his chest. Adina was calculating, imagining her next move, something, anything to make her memorable. Even when she was gone, a memory of a time you talk about only in passing she wanted to remember. Part of her got to stay that way, and she knew the only way to manage that was to be an unusual flurry of everything he wanted at the moment but couldn’t hold after.

Before she could react, Adina was flipped, so the power dynamic shifted. Her body sunk into the cushions as Maxence peered down at her; cocking her head towards her shoulder Adina hooked her legs around his hips and licked her lips. A sharp intake of breath as he kissed sticky sweetness away; Adina was a greedy girl, made up of a selfish heart with a selfish desire to which she made them known by rocking her hips into him as he painstakingly kissed into a wild passion.

Adina hummed beneath him, her body flush against and not close enough; her eyes fluttered close a moment, the sensation of his fingers pressing into her back, “oh-”  a sighed syllable as she lifted her eyes towards his face again. Adina’s thumb moved along his jaw and swept across his full bottom lip as she drug her digit down his chin before pressing it purposefully between her lips and sucking it with a satisfying pop. Adina arched her back to peel her shirt away from her body. Dropping it near her sweater, she laid back half-naked, her breast exposed. Adina swept the same thumb from between her lips across her left nipple, keeping her darkened gaze on his.

Repositioning her legs around his waist, Adina propped herself up on her elbows, her exposed chest brushing against his as she pressed a pathway of pressured kisses and delicate flicks of her tongue along his necks. Her fingers curling under his shirt to sink against his muscled back the same way he had held her just moments before.

Almost as soon as Adina’s breasts were exposed, Maxence’s eyes darkened and his mouth found its way to them. His hands cupped the bare, soft skin, pressing them against his face before he began to lick one of her nipples. He flicked his tongue on the brown tip, then he moved to the other one to suck and kiss the soft tissue of the second breast. 

Maxence found encouragement in her sounds of pleasure and slid his hands down her sides so they smoothed over her hill of her hips, then under her skirt as her legs wrapped around him. He could feel the laciness of her panties as he squeezed her ass, thinking how fun it would be when he got to taking them off. His excitement momentarily got the better of him as he felt her grasp at the skin on his back and he, too, let out a light grunt as his own hips grinded back into hers. 

A hunger for what came next urged him to rush through this part and jump right into it, but he had missed playing with her. He wanted to stroll through the steps it took to drive her crazy: touching and teasing all the sensitive parts of her body so he could see her pretty face desire so deeply it looked like need; he wanted to hear her plead. With an equal appetite for these things, he fought his instinct to tear the rest of their clothes off and give it to her.

lottie: i don't think drunk photographs are ever flattering

lottie: you get *very* red when you drink

lottie: ... well you get drunk, and i get snap happy.

max: how long have u been doing this?!

Where: outside/inside of the slick hare When: 4:30pm Who: @slchat​ - open

“I am so sorry that you had to witness that. I don’t even know what happened…” It had been an interesting day, to say the least. For whatever reason, the hair gods decided to place all of his more difficult clients in on the same day, and it really just ate away at him. His last client was being extra particular, changing his mind every two seconds, and that shit drove him up the wall. 

Brandon would like to consider himself a patient man, but today just got the best of him, “I just fucking lost it on this guy. He kept on hounding me about his cut. Too long here, too short there– Why is this like that? Make this do that– Why is it patchy? That’s too short. – Like, what the hell do I even say to that anymore? Sorry, Steve, but the cut’s sick– your hair’s just complete shit? Damn–” The final curse was carried out through some sort of relieving sigh.

-

More and more, Maxence was finding that he was having the opposite reaction to things that he normally would. Take this situation he currently found himself in as an example: Normally, he would have been entertained, maybe even amused by the drama that played out in front of him while he waited for Brandon to finish up with the person whose appoint was just before his own. Normally, he would be calm and forgiving since he rather liked the barber; he seemed to be an honest man who knew how to cut hair better than anyone. 

Since the riot coming back from New York however, Maxence began to note how he had been somewhat jumpier than usual, less understanding than he typically was. He was also much more aware of his surroundings, making the Frenchman a bit sensitive to loud noises. So when Brandon blew up on his client, Maxence’s senses rushed to clear away thought and focus solely on what was happening as if expecting violence to break out around him. Now, that the situation had de-escalated, Maxence was waiting for his nerves to calm down, but they continued to stand at attention, ready to attack if need be. This, of course, affected his response to be somewhat out of character. “Yes, but isn’t it your job to make his hair not look like shit? Not to yell at him for wanting it to look better than however you intended to leave it?”

Though Maxence didn’t have a single drop of ink on his body, he and Vinnie became fast friends the evening the met. One where Max accompanied an old friend to get “inked up,” as they say, and now he spoke more frequently to the tattoo artist than he did with the friend he had gone with to Vinnie’s shop. 

As he waited patiently to be found, Maxence admired the vines that were already spilling over the edge of the pot. He looked up from the leafy plant and spotted his friend walking over to him. The tall brunette held up the pothos plant and pointed to it, grinning as though he were displaying a prize. “I believe you two haven’t met,” Maxence said once Vinnie was within hearing range, holding the plant out to him. “Vinnie, this is Patty. Patty, this is Vinnie.”

vinnie: so u've brought a fuck load of plants u nut !

vinnie: alright.. but u owe me for making me walk around this place.

vinnie: give us a clue as to where ur at? whats near u?

max: i meant ONLY ONE plant. idk where that not came from

max: i am... still by the plant lady

vinnie: nah bro, i can't see u

vinnie: haha u nutter !!

vinnie: u got distracted by some plants? i swear.. if i see u walking around with an armful of plants i'll crease up 😂😂

vinnie: i haven't come across a plant stall yet so.. ive no idea were u could be bro.

max: it is not only one plant so u may not crease up when i find u... or u find mind

max: we find each other

Lottie: [ File Attached: 001329.jpg ] of all the drunk pictures i have of you, this one is my favourite.

max: this is an awful picture

max: i get so red when i drink

vinnie: yo.. where u at?

vinnie: i can't find u at the market

vinnie: im waiting for u @ the gingerbread stand

maxence: i'm right here. where are you ?

max: just kidding

“Athletics have never been my strong suit,” Tierney admitted, dismally looking at the wall where she had managed to sink a dart. Honestly, sorta impressive it stuck instead of just bouncing off, if you ask her. “Alas, I’m afraid my skills lay elsewhere. Drinking games, maybe. Like, Flip cup. Total champ there.”

-

Despite having been in the states for about a decade now, Maxence was still quite unfamiliar with American drinking games. His brows knitted together as he peered down at the glass cup that held his drink. “What is ‘flip cup?’ “ He asked, thinking about how the glass would most likely shatter if he tried to flip it.

Normally, a crowd as small as this one would have bothered Maxence, but he wasn’t too keen on large groups of people as of late so he truly did not mind. The participants of today’s park clean up included (not counting himself) a couple that had strayed off to the other side of the large park, a family which wandered about nearby, the lovely Ms. Cordova and her daughter. Her daughter happened to be playing with the family’s children, which left Maxence and Ophelia poking and picking up litter together, chit chatting and getting to know each other better. “I very much appreciate you coming.” He smiled over to her as he pinched a candy wrapper into his trash bag. “Normally, I am more successful in getting people to come, but I think I was not so... inviting in my invite,” he chuckled softly, shaking his head as he thought back to how poorly his last few presentations went.

Brooke snorted, although humorously, at his remark. “Oh yeah?” She responded, as she watched him and the board closely. Her fingers wrapped around the cooled beverage sat in front of her and she brought it to her lips, while she waited for him to make his play. “Let me guess, you’d compare your beauty to one of the Gods?” She could imagine so. “Worshiped by many?”

-

“It would be misleading of me to disagree,” he said with a wry smile before turning back to the board and shooting the darts across. He was lucky enough to make all three onto the round board, but not enough to get any one of them near the bullseye. Still Maxence walked over and coolly plucked them from where they were sticking out of. As he walked back to her, he said through his accent, “Though, I am sure being worshipped for one’s beauty is not something only I am familiar with here.” By now, he had reached their table and taken his seat; a coquettish grin had also pulled at the corners of his mouth.