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mickyschumacher · 1 year

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style was so fucking good HOLY SHITTTTT can u please please please do a part 2 xx

𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after separating from carlos, you thought you would never ever have to see him again. but fate is demanding and it demands you bumping into him in a club. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy (bc where would we be without it), reader is younger than carlos but not like insanely, reader has vagina, angst, ferrari SLANDER, charles moves to redbull oop, GOOGLED SPANISH! I'M SORRY 😭, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies peeps!), oral sex, cumming inside, car sex = dangerous car driving, brief handjob, dry(?) humping, confession time AHHH, incorrect modelling stuff again lol, nicer!carlos ♡︎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: complicated ex!carlos sainz x model!fem!reader, bestie!lily he x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+ (whoops)

𝐀/𝐍: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so.... here it is! i hope this is up to your par with what you were thinking about ♡︎ has bit of a build up but the smut is there! decently proof read... i think? my eyes are vv tired from these exams :(

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years.

For you that meant with some crazy luck becoming the World's top supermodel. Kendall Jenner, Gigi and Bella Hadid, Emily Ratajkowski... whoever the top once was, you had put them all to shame. You were booked and busier than ever. You could've sworn you used to get your beauty sleep but now you were lucky if you could even get an hour let alone eight. The billboards and the magazines loved you and the public, god the public, they cherished you.

Never had the world needed a relatable, kind role model more and there you were. A diamond in the rough, waiting to be seen. You were even on your way of becoming an entrepreneur in sustainable fashion.

Everything was going your way.

It was a surprise for you. After Carlos, you thought you would be moping forever. And you did, at least for a few days. But when your manager and stylist advised you to release your pent up emotions, you thought the best way to do that was fully committing yourself to your work.

No more relationships. No hookups. No races. No Carlos.

And somehow, it worked. You were a single supermodel who won over the public. No races, no Carlos. You were bringing your company money.

But yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about Carlos. His smugness, the puppy brown eyes, his touch, the little signs that he cared; the softening of the side of his eyes when he looked at you before they were ridden with lust or his need to have some part of him touching you; his hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, or soft circles rubbed on your inner wrist.

You missed him.

But that was three years ago.

You and Carlos didn't even run in the same circles anymore.

For Carlos, three years meant extending his contract with Ferrari, although God knows why, losing three chances at a championship, fighting with Adami over the radio far more than he liked, and losing Charles to Red Bull. All while feeling very empty. No one really recognised who Carlos was anymore. Not his family, not the drivers, and not the fans. Hell, he himself didn't know who he was.

Whoever Carlos was right now... it was the mere shell of who he used to be.

He was drinking far too much for an F1 driver celebrating other's podiums. And now he got angry. He didn't get angry, he seethed. He let himself feel vexed in order to get motivated. But now he was just angry and torn but not for no reason.

Carlos was an idiot. He had made an irrevocably stupid decision. Separating from you was the worse decision he had ever made. And that said something considering he had extended with the most infuriating F1 team of the past few years.

How could he have even made that decision? Normally, he thought things out. He was an F1 driver, for God's sake. Some sort of thought could be accounted for. But he didn't know what it was... maybe he was too emotional the night he was with you. Whatever it was, he should've thought it out.

God, Carlos should've realised that all he needed to do was put more effort it. You and him... it would've worked. He would've stopped hurting you. He would've been fully committed to you.

But no. He had fuck to it up.

To say Carlos hadn't been stalking your socials everyday was an understatement. Cumming to your name was a pre-race ritual that had now turned into checking what projects you were doing. Not to be dramatic, but to him, it felt like you were just keeping him alive, giving him a reason to live.

Carlos couldn't even muster the courage to call you and ask if you could talk. He didn't deserve that. Like he said, you deserved more. And all these fans and the fame and money... you deserved all of it and more. Staying away from you was the best thing he could do for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos had made a terrible, terrible decision to attend the Miami after race party after saying he wouldn't. In fact, he couldn't. Not when he knew for a fact that you were in a club only down the street.

The temptation to see you was strong.

The club lights flared across the dance floor while the heat and humidity of all these dancing bodies clung to his warm skin. Carlos' hands shook silently at his side while Charles and Lando mixed in conversation. Every fibre of his body was telling his feet to stick to this floor. He couldn't see you. He was only going to ruin your night. He bit down on his lip, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

But his heart... it was a strong heart. And it was telling him to take that five minute walk.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air," Carlos yelled over the music blaring in his ears. Charles and Lando gave the Spaniard a nod before returning to their conversation.

Carlos tried to make his walk to the club as long as possible, veering off to the side, staring far too long into the windows of other stores. But eventually, he stood in front of the thriving club.

You were celebrating having reached 50 Vogue covers, including the Big Four twice. You told your manager you were fine with having dinner at home but the refusal was immediate and came with the claim of you needing a break. So here you were, dressed in the most sparkly, skimpy, backless deep cleavage silver slip dress, dancing your ass off.

When Carlos entered the club, it was hard to miss you. How could he? You were the centre of attention, dancing around in your little dress that was fighting to cling to your body while everyone cheered you on.

He shouldn't of come. He knew it. Because now, he couldn't leave. No matter how much he knew that to leave was the right decision.

You, on the other hand, didn't notice Carlos so easily. You were having the time of your life, swaying your hips side-to-side as the beat coursed through your veins. Your skin was dotted with sweat while a handsome stranger had come up to you, clearly looking to hook up. And while you weren't looking to screw just anyone, you couldn't shy away from the little bit of grinding your body so desperately craved.

The euphoria wasn't as high as you had once felt but it was enough to keep you on your toes. Heat travelled through your stomach while your eyes closed and your head fell back as another man moved behind you. You were in a haze of pleasure that made your pussy ache.

God, maybe you were too desperate for some pleasure. Because why did it feel like Carlos' cologne had engulfed you? Why did the fire burning within you flare up even further all of a sudden?

Your eyes shot open and a gasp fell from your lips when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at the man with wide eyes.

"Cariño," Carlos breathed out, hooded eyes peering down at you.

Your throat felt constricted. Your eyes watered with anger and shock.

"No," You said, pulling yourself away from him.

"No, no, no," You repeated while Carlos took a step towards you, hand reaching out to stop freaking you out.

"Y/N... I–" Carlos was cut short as you raced towards your table and picked up your purse and jacket, heading towards the exit doors of the club.

You could hear Carlos jog to catch up with you. Sighing, you put on your jacket, striding as far as you could in those stupidly beautiful heels you had worn. But you seemed to forget that he was an athlete at the end of the day.

"Y/N, please. Don't do this," Carlos begged, an inch away from you.

Your lips sunk into your bottom lip, ears attempting to block out the warm voice you had been craving for the past three years. Your heart was racing against your chest while your mind fell into disarray.

"Y/N," Carlos repeated, grabbing your arm gently.

You sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, feeling the hairs of your body stand straight. You turned and looked up at him with with reddened eyes, making him pause for a second.

"Three years, Carlos, three goddamn years... of nothing," You exasperated with the familiar words falling off your tongue all too easily.

"I know. I'm–"

"'... so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses.' Is that what you were going to say, Carlos?" You asked incredulously, arms folded as if they were going to protect you from all this sudden pain.

Carlos winced at your words, staring at you helplessly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I was doing fine... and you... what the hell were you thinking, Carlos?"

A silence settled between the both of you as the cold night air raced to cool down your flushed cheeks. Carlos breathed deeply. "I-I... I missed you, cariño. That's what I was thinking. That what I have been thinking for the past three years. I miss you all the time."

You stared at Carlos silently, chewing down on your lip nervously. This was what you wanted. You had waited all this time to hear those very words fall from his lips. Yet all you could say was: "So? That doesn't change anything." The lie made you crumble on the inside but you continued to speak. "You said it yourself, Carlos, we aren't good for each other. That I... deserve more."

"And you do!" Carlos spluttered, hands flailing about. "You deserve more than a better man, Y/N. You deserve the fucking universe. But I was wrong! I was wrong to say that we aren't good together. We can be good together. I think you complete me and if you let me even have the chance, I would be the luckiest man ever to be with you."

Carlos' hands were now gently holding your face, thumb gently brushing your heated skin. Your heart was now pounding in your eardrums. Your throat was caught. You felt impossibly warm. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. "I... I gave you so many chances," You whispered.

Carlos' eyes softened at your broken voice as a sorry expression fell over his face. "I know," He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself, cariño. But if I have to spend forever trying to make it up to you, I gladly will."

"Carlos," You sighed, closing your eyes. You were annoyed with yourself. Annoyed at the fact you were leaning into his touch and annoyed at the familiar heartache that always let him get away with what he wanted. "I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt again. I don't want to hurt you either."

Carlos felt his heart clench, jaw taut with irritation. Every fibre of him hated that you even had to say that. But you were right. You always were. He whispered softly, letting his forehead meet yours, "You won't. I promise. I promise to be a better man. Just please give me a chance... give us a chance."

You opened your eyes to see those desperate puppy eyes boring into yours. You brought your hand to the one holding on your face, rubbing it gently. You knew your answer the moment he asked. "Okay," You responded with a small smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Initially, it was hard to get as comfortable as you once were with Carlos. You took every step with caution and he could tell by the scrunch of your nose and the chewing of you lip when you pondered for a moment too long. It was eating at him but there was nothing he could do but fufill his promise to you.

Carlos took you out on several dates as opposed to the few he previously taken you on. They weren't grand. No. Instead they were intimate. Dates that showed he was putting effort in. Like the time he decided to have a dinner date at his house where all the food was prepared by him. It was disastrous to say the least but you were also convinced he had gotten his sisters to help him out given that there was burnt food in the trash and it's aroma covered by candles and perfume in the air.

A sunset picnic followed after that. It was one of your favourites. The sun was setting, of course, and the warm breeze brushed past you while you ended up reading one of your favourite childhood books to Carlos. He listened intently as his hands roamed your skin. It wasn't necessarily sensual but it was intimate. Like all he wanted to do was just bathe in your presence. And bathe Carlos did as he began to ask you questions about your childhood and your family.

It bugged him that despite being with you for some time, he knew nothing about you. At least not really. Knowing your body reactions felt superficial in comparison to finding out you had a family pet that you cherished so much, your financial hardships, or that your parents disapproved of your modelling. That really hurt him. You didn't have anyone close to you. And he had just left you.

Carlos mentioned to you how much of a polla he truly was, apologising for all you had gone through. And while you laughed at his comment, you thanked him, hesitantly pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Carlos gazed at you as his heart throbbed at your action. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eyes. There was something about this moment... he wasn't quite sure whether it was the setting sun that made you glow or that breeze that made your hair gently fly while your perfume consumed him, but it made him nervous and happy.

Carlos smiled at your raised brows. "You're just so beautiful, cariño."

You sucked in a sharp breath. That look in his eyes... it was the same one you gave him when you were just mesmerised by his beauty. And now he looked at you the same way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Three months had passed and you had finally stepped into the paddock after what had felt like forever. Everyone was psyched that you were back here. Fans were screaming your name and the drivers had finally seen the reason behind the sudden change in Carlos.

"So... you and Y/N?" Lando queried carefully, watching you talk to Lily and Alex about all the things the both of you had missed.

Carlos peered over to you, catching your passing eyes. His heart skipped a beat at your little wave and smiling eyes. He grinned at you and waved back.

Lando watched the exchange with curious eyes, pulling a feigned pained expression. "Yeah... you and Y/N."

Carlos rolled his eyes at the man who had become one of his closest friends. "Yes, Lando, we're together. We've... we've been taking it slow. So I don't fuck it up."

Lando smiled at Carlos' words. He slapped his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Good," He chirped, before dropping his smile. "You better not. That's basically my best friend right there. You hurt her, you better keep an eye out for Lily and I, and Alex by association."

Carlos chuckled. "Imagine if Fewtrell heard that."

"What Max doesn't know won't hurt him," Lando shrugged.

Carlos smiled in amusement, finding you walking towards him with the previously mentioned couple. "What are you two trying to get my lovely lady to do?" He asked with narrowed eyes when you appeared with a suspiciously wide smile. A beautiful smile, but suspicious nonetheless.

You flushed at his words, taking in a deep breath. "I may have been convinced to do a bit of... ugh, golf."

Golf. Your most dreaded sport. From the moment you knew what it was, you could not think of a more boring sport to save your life. No offence to Lily, but it was an old man's sport. And every F1 driver playing it did not help. But Lily being the amazing girl she was had changed your mind.

Lando cheered and Carlos' eyes widened slightly. "How did you manage to convince her? Even I couldn't get her to join me. Me out of all people."

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. "I think your win from me golfing is a little different from Lily's. Lily wants me to learn."

"Yeah? And what do I want that is so different?" Carlos asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to me.

You stood on your toes a bit, reaching his ear. "Quieres verme con esa diminuta ropa de golf," You whispered in Spanish, pulling away from his ear. "Esa es la diferencia." You want to see me in those teeny little golf clothes. That's the difference.

You felt a familiar tingle creep up your spine as you met Carlos' darkened eyes and tightened grip on your waist. His tongue darted out, swiping his bottom lip while he eyed you carefully. You were a vixen. A final smug smile rested on his face. "You're right, cariño. That's exactly what I want."

Lily looked at you two blankly. "Anyone catch that?" She asked Alex and Lando, who both shook their heads. She sighed, "Leave it to us to not know one of the most popular languages in the world. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. Try keep your hands off each other, there's kids."

Lando gaped at Lily's side glance towards him. "Well I never!"

Carlos grinned at Lando's words, keeping an eye on you. "I'll try."

You drew a sharp breath. What kind of mess had you exactly set up for yourself?

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Carlos wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when you had told him that your manager had sorted out a golf outfit since it was not like you were playing an official tournament. But when you arrived to meet Carlos, Lando, Lily, and Alex at the golf course, Carlos let out the most strained sigh he had ever released.

You were a model, sorry, a supermodel, you looked good in everything already. But you dressed up for his favourite pass time was killing him.

You stood in front of him in the sun visor that hid your long hair, wearing the absolute tightest sleeveless polo shirt known to mankind tucked into small little pink skirt that rested at the middle of your thighs.

God, you were leaving very little for Carlos to imagine. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do to you first: 'accidentally' splash that white shirt with water because he just knew by those nipples that you weren't wearing a bra or excuse the both of you to the bathroom where he could bend you over and fuck you senselessly.

Lily let out a low whistle when she saw you. "Y/N, the woman you are..." She clicked her tongue while shaking her head.

You laughed lightly as Alex look at her incredulously. "I'm right here, you know."

"Alex, are you a woman named Y/N?" Lily asked genuinely.

"I– no," Alex stuttered with furrowed brows while Lando grinned.

"That’s what I thought!" Lilly gave a smug smile, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before linking her arm with yours.

Alex stood with Carlos, blinking blankly at your retreating figures. “I don’t get it,” Alex told the Spaniard.

Lando chuckled while Carlos placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t need to. It’s Y/N. Now come on. From what I know, you have a lot to learn from Lily.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos was already bracing himself for whatever antics you were going to put up. He was expecting your full on ass up against him, teasing him to the point where he did end up taking you in the bathroom.

But you had decided to go the hard way.

When Carlos was teaching you how to hit the ball and what angle to use the golf club, he severely used the opportunity to put his hands on your hips. He thought you were going to fall back into his chest and press up on him. But instead you decided to listen to his instructions all so intently.

Then he saw it.

Your tongue darting out past those perfect lips of yours, wetting all those crevices with a natural sheen before you sunk your teeth to concentrate on hitting the ball.

And after he had seen it, Carlos couldn’t see anything else normally. Or he would argue that you wouldn’t let him.

No way was the slip of the golf ball accidental. Not when he watched you slowly bend down to get it, revealing your delicious cleavage in the so very unfortunate cut of your polo. Not when he watched your pink skirt cling to your thighs tightly as your lips jutted out to blow away the dirt from the ball.

It was a golf ball, for God’s sake. Of course it was going to have dirt on it.

And as you stood up, you turned so your ass faced him, skirt hugging your ass tight enough so he could see a sliver of your bare pussy.

Carlos could swear that he had never clutched a golf club as hard as he had in his life.

To make matters worse, all you did was strut away with a smirk while you shamelessly checked him out all throughout the games, leaving him with a semi-hard he tried his best to hide behind the thin handle of the club.

You were torturing him without even touching him. And he hated it.

Carlos couldn’t even excuse himself nor you to the bathroom after you purposefully decide to cling to Lily, who was suggesting different methods to play.

The dreadful day had finally come to an end as everyone began to feel the kick of playing golf for so long. You and Carlos bid goodbye to Lily, Alex, and Lando, after your boyfriend definitely did not inform you that you were going back home with him instead of your manager.

After packing your things away in Carlos’ red Ferrari, you happily took a seat in the front, letting out a small yawn as you stretched your arms.

Carlos quietly eyed you as he reversed out of the parking lot. “Tired?” He asked.

You nodded with slightly heavy eyelids. “It takes a lot of energy.”

“I agree,” Carlos nodded. “Teasing takes a lot of energy, hmm?”

Your eyes were fully awake now. You peered at the side of Carlos’ face. His jaw was taut and hands tightly gripped the wheel. You tried to hide your teetering smile but it was difficult. You just loved riling up Carlos. Especially sexually.

“A lot,” You agreed, also nodding before you moved your eyes out your window to prevent you from fully grinning.

Carlos internally sighed. You were a menace.

As he drove to his hotel, an idea popped into Carlos’ head. He knew the way to hotel and golf course like the back of his hand. He also knew that in two left turns, there was the most sketchy but quiet road in town.

Carlos pushed down the indicator, watching the left arrow blink rapidly at him while he turned the wheel. He could see your head turn to him in curiosity.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Carlos smiled softly, shaking his head as if it was nothing while taking the last left turn.

You raised a brow. You feigned a gasp. “Is this where you kill me? Is this how I die? On some road in Miami?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Yes. How did you know?” He deadpanned.

Carlos parked the car in between some trees, ensuring that all the windows were fairly covered because no matter what, at the end of the day, he cared for both for your images.

Carlos turned to find your eyes already on him, waiting for an explanation. “You know the last time we met in Miami?”

You blinked blankly at him. “How could I forget?” You retorted sarcastically, covering up any last few traces of pain associated with that trip.

Carlos pursed his lips, smiling apologetically. He took your hands into his, rubbing them gently. “Well, when we were in the car, I had this vision—well I always have this vision but it was strong then, anyways—I had this vision of fucking you in this car, on the highway, ass on the wheel, making a mess on me, and making you cum so hard that you cover that Ferrari logo.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes dilated in pleasure. Suddenly you felt tingly all over your body and a strong heat pulsating in between your thighs. You pressed your thighs together at the thought.

“So I thought,” Carlos confused, smirking at your action, “although you’ve been a tease, I would still like to fuck the life out of you, cariño. Isn’t that so nice of me?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You wish you had the urge to roll your eyes. You really wish you did. But your breath was caught in your throat and you just felt a dribble of arousal leak past your aching core.

Instead you moved over to Carlos, putting a leg on either side of him and brought your lips to his.

Carlos immediately responded, hands flying towards your hips, gripping on your skin while he intensely kissed you back. He kissed you not just as a starved man, but a parched man. As if your lips were water and all he could do was drink you.

Your stomach churned with a familiar fire of pleasure. Your skin raised with goosebumps as Carlos’ thumbs circled your skin through the fairly thin fabric of your polo. A muffled moan was lodged in your throat the sound of Carlos’ grunts.

Carlos’ hands moved from your hips to the hem of your skirt. His hands dipped under the pink material that had been enticing him all day, feeling the ample flesh of your bare ass. An audible moan came from his throat as you had moved your lips to his neck to stop drinking those beautiful sounds.

“You’re such a tease, you know that? No fucking underwear so I could see those juicy lips of yours? Were you just waiting for me to take you from behind? What if Lando saw? Hmm?” Carlos queried, groping your ass while his fiery puppy browns pierced into your eyes.

You let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his cock.

“You like that, cariño? The idea of getting caught?” Carlos asked even though he clearly knew the answer if he looked down at the dark stain beginning to form on the front of your skirt.

Carlos smiled softly at your impatient eyes, pressed your hips onto his groin. “Grind on me, cariño. Make a mess on me,” He whispered, taking your lips with his once again.

You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth in his bulge. The wave of arousal you craved slowly creeped up on you. The hard textured material of his shirt felt like a sin against your pussy. Carlos’ hands helping you keep your pace and making sure you felt every part of hard-on set you on fire.

Smoothly, Carlos used one of his hands to sneak up your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers leaving you in a blaze as he grazed your skin. “That’s it, cariño, that’s it,” He murmured against your lips. His fingers confused past the apex of your thigh, nearing your burning core.

Fuck, were you turned on. The heat radiating off your pussy was dangerous. His thumb edged towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly.

“Shit,” you swore, arching your back against the steering wheel. Your pussy ground up against his fingers while trying to press further on his cock; entertaining both levels of pleasure.

Carlos felt his cock tighten painfully against his hands when he moved his eyes from you and down to where your pussy met him. God, you had made a mess. His eyes flickered back up, watching you obscenely cover the Prancing Horse. “Merde,” He cussed.

This was how he wanted you. Fuck. Making a claim on everything that belonged to him with your body. Just the way he wanted.

You could feel Carlos dip his head forward, giving a long lick to your right nipple. You were sure your white polo was now see through, letting your pebbled mounds become available for Carlos’ disposal. You moaned, feeling your pussy become sticky with pleasure as Carlos pulled down the cut of your polo, freeing your breasts from those teasing confines, watching them bounce in admiration before he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

You arched your back even further, pushing your breast into his mouth while the other hand resting on your hip moved to fondle your lonely nipple, leaving you to do the rest of the work. "Carlos," You cried out breathlessly, speeding the pace of your hips as a familiar coil began to unwind at the pit of your stomach.

Carlos knew that tone better than he knew his circuits. Unlatching his swollen lips from your nipple, he looked up at you, making you moan even further. It was hard to disagree that Carlos was a good looking man, but right now, you were seeing him like no other: puffy lips, sweat-ridden tousled brown hair, cheeks freckled with pinks and reds, dark lust-hazed eyes... all for you.

"Don't cum just yet, cariño. I need to be inside you," Carlos panted, his tongue swiping his lips drenched.

You shuddered at the action before looking at him in dismay. "Carlos. Papi, no. Por favor." Please.

Just when Carlos thought his cock couldn't harden any further, you had proven the impossible. He held your chin in his hand, forcing you to hold his gaze. "Don't do that, cariño. Don't papi me. I'm already being so nice, hmm? Be a good girl and listen to be, okay baby?"

You sighed in frustration but you hips eased it's speed, succumbing to Carlos without a second thought.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of your head, continuing to rub your clit excruciatingly slow. "That's my girl," He praised, pressing you right against the steering wheel as he lifted his hips up.

Naturally your hands fell to his shorts, eagerly pushing down the pair of clothing as far as you could in this space. Your mouth salivated at the large bulge in his grey boxers. It was like his cock was greeting you; aching to me to you. In awe, you put your hand over his hard cock, softly brushing over the pulsating bulge.

"Fuck," Carlos sighed, eyes closed, feeling like he was on an obscene high already. He felt you gently trace over his thick cock, going even slower when you reached his tip, painstakingly grazing his slit through his boxers. He shot out his hand, holding yours in place.

Carlos swallowed all the saliva that he had gathered after seeing your wide, almost innocent, eyes beaming at him while a sickly sweet smile sprawled across your face. Jesus. How did he ever let you go? Now that he had you, he most certainly couldn't.

You grinned, knowing exactly how to awake the monster within him. You pushed down his boxers, letting him fully settle into the seat of the Ferrari and his cock stand against his toned stomach with a shade that almost made it look like it was angry with you for taking this long.

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you let the hot clear fluid slowly fall from your lips and onto his cock. Carlos sighed at the feeling, thumb reaching out to gather the last few drops from your lips before you brought it into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb, giving him a pre-show before you released him.

Carlos watched as you bent down towards his cock, using your hand to rub your saliva down his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulsing in your hands, dying to be inside you. You lifted yourself back up, signalling Carlos you were ready.

Carlos' hands skated up your skirt, grabbing your bare hips as he guided you over his cock. All this time he had been teasing you as awfully as you had teased him today, so when you felt his cock against your wet folds, you let out a gasp while you hips bucked against involuntarily.

"Jesus fucking Christ," You swore, shuddering at the intoxicating high swarming through your body.

Carlos' cock throbbed against your pussy. He loved your sensitivity, so he pushed himself through your folds again, tip rubbing against your stimulated clit. He grunted against you. He could watch your body defy you over and over again.

But as much as he loved it, Carlos had been waiting to be in you liked a starved man.

Carlos' eyes flittered up to yours while he slowly pushed his cock into you. He memorised you carefully. Every twitch, every quiver. Your parter lips, the frequency of your moan. The contortion of your eyebrows while pleasure laced your eyes. He could remember you like this forever; his beautiful girl.

"Carlos," You panted, "more, please."

"Your wish is my command, princesa," Carlos whispered against your skin, pushing his hips further into you. His hands tightened around your waist, the warm grip of your folds pulling him in like a drug.

You knew it then and you knew it know. Carols had bewitched you. You would never be able to get enough of this feeling. The feeling of his cock jerking into your pussy because he just can't control himself. Nor the feeling of sucking him in like a vice because you want him all to yourself.

Carlos moaned, thrusting his aching cock while he muttered obscenities as if he was under some sort of spell. For what it was worth, he was. Every day, you entranced him. But right now, the sight of you against the Prancing Horse that was waiting to be covered in your cum... your saliva-covered breasts bouncing, your arched back against the wheel... it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy.

Your hands travelled to his hair, lips grazing past the bridge of his nose while you groaned. Your fingers wrapped his dishevelled brown waves around them, giving his locks a slight tug that coursed down his body.

Your hips ground against Carlos harshly, attempting to take any extra sliver of euphoria. His cock drove in and out of you at a rate that left no innocence in this car. It was lewd; the slapping of your sticky skin against one another, your breathless pants mingling together, and the fogged windows occurring from your feverish skin. Fuck, the both of you were in overdrive.

You let out a small whimper when you felt your body start to shake. You looked down at Carlos, who was peppering your bare shoulder with long sloppy kisses as he continued to thrust. Your eyes softened and the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "Carlos, I–"

Carlos smiled at the urgency in your voice. He began to pick up his pace, let out a few breathless pants. "Cum for me, mi amor."

You shook your head. "No, fuck, fuck, I–" You closed your eyes at the nearing high but forced them to open again, finding those puppy browns staring you down with confusion and maybe, just maybe, a bit of trauma from the last time. But you just had to say it. "I love you, Carlos. I love you so fucking much, mi amor. And I'll love you forever," You sobbed out.

Carlos gazed at you with wide eyes, his pace faltering slightly. As much as it turned him on, his heart was probably ten times happier. He felt warm; complete. He softened his gaze, bringing one hand to your cheek. His heart swelled at your natural lean in. Brushing his thumb gently, "I love you so much, Y/N. So much. And I'll never forget to remind you until my very last breath. You're my entire universe, querida (darling)."

Your eyes watered with a sickening amount of love as your body was hit with wave after wave. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed, clenching your eyes, a few tears slowly falling. Your hips bucked up against him, reaching for the high as Carlos rubbed your clit in fast circles.

"That's it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cover the the entire fucking wheel. Make a mess," Carlos encouraged, pushing you against the wheel, making your body convulse even further at the new texture.

"Fuck!" You swore, pussy throbbing and hips involuntarily jerking, reaching your climax.

Carlos groaned at the tight clench around his cock.

"Cum for me, Carlos. Look at the mess I made. All because of you. All for you," You coaxed, riding your sensitive pussy over him slowly.

His eyes flickered to the black Prancing Horse covered in your arousal; each little crevice of the wheel soaking up your cum. God, the monster you made him... He grunted, speeding up his pace as the coil in his stomach began to unwind quickly.

"Fuck, fuck," Carlos moaned loudly, holding you tightly to him. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," He muttered like a mantra, hips stuttering against you. He twitched inside you, feeling the hot salty strings of his cum spill into you.

"Oh, fuck," He sighed again, head falling on your chest while you moaned at the feeling of his cum inside you, clenching just one more time. His cock throbbed with another small high, pumping the last few ropes of his cum into you.

You let out a slow exhale, lifting Carlos' head by tilting his chin to face you. You rubbed his face gently, leaving a trail of kisses on his face as you both calmed down. You eyed the fogged windows and turned to see the Prancing Horse that had started this whole thing in the first place. You laughed softly.

"Well that was a stylish vision you had there," You remarked with a grin.

Carlos grinned right back at you. "Oh, cariño, we are doing that at least once every week."

"Oh, really?" You teased, putting your hands around his neck. "Well this type of car sex is definitely my style," You agreed after some feigned thinking.

Carlos smiled, tucking your sweaty hair behind your ears. He placed a long kiss on your lips. "It's our style."

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #mickyschumacher #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1

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kthynes · 2 years

Note

Mmmmmm I was thinking early on in their relationship Husband for Hire Lloyd is flirting or having a woman flirting with him and reader gets a little jealous but doesn’t know why……it’s all for show right? Lloyd notices her and plays the flirting up to get to her…

green eyed goddess

nsfw 18+ / minors DNI

warnings: course language, reader being a bit of a brat. Pint loads of jealousy.

a/n: ah ah thank you for this juicy request! I love writing for this series and that too for Lloyd.

The Governor's Gala. A nightly soirée that amasses the rich and the racketeers. It’s your first time attending one and that too with your most coveted (and fucking annoying) husband to be. He’s somewhere out of sight, working a crowd he knows best while you sip on the sharpest champagne that’s ever touched your lips. You’re doomed to solitude as it comes and goes with galling seconds to spare.

“Madam?” Another waiter calls for your attention with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Your eyes widen, brows raised at the assortment of croquettes and swampy bechamel that was less than appetizing.

“No thank you.” You hastily wave, passing up on an empty stomach that’ll later claw on itself. “Thanks.”

The decrepit man gives you a prolonged, tuck lipped smile before turning on his haunches and perishing away. As if telling him off twice wasn’t enough.

Fucker.

Being your own plus one was dreadful. You’d think the ground would swallow you whole but instead you stand smack dab in the middle as people waltz by. You brace yourself in a one of a kind Oscar de la Renta gown that clings onto you for dear life. Your feet were practically crying in Ferragamo.

Ready to kick Lloyd in the ass, your eyes scour the ballroom and among the throngs of bodies you finally spot him. He’s engrossed with laughter and so is the scant woman next to him. You’re more so laser focused on her now. She’s beautiful. Exactly his type. Busty and bodacious, someone you’d catalog for superfluous.

You observe the interaction for a fraction too long and that’s when you notice it all. Like the way her hand grazes and holds him by his forearm while her doe eyes palpate a big ‘fuck me daddy.’

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Your candid sips turn into gulps. Another swift waiter passes by and as opportunity presents itself, you grab another flute. You’re stuck on being dumbfounded by him. He continues to smile and charm some next whore who flips her shampoo commercial hair at every remark and murmur. He’s definitely pulling all the stops for this one. Even going the extra mile it seems.

You scoff, cursing under your breath like a petulant child.

Lloyd is used to women throwing themselves at him so this jocular rendezvous comes as no surprise. Although, what takes him by the upheaps is the steam that comes from your ears. You stand by the Allwin brothers looking torrentially distraught. There’s a small divot in between your brows that loom over your glassy eyes. Your lips are downturned, a slight quiver emulates every cathartic emotion you could be feeling. You saw right through him. Lloyd was now looking right at you. And then like the crass lover you were your mouth slowly formed the words that every man yearned to hear at least once in their useless lifetime: ‘Fuck you.’

It was deafeningly loud and punctuated. Lloyd decides to play nice. He politely turns to Gigi with grace and excuses himself. She’s stumped, wanting nothing more than to suck him dry. But he doesn’t promise her another time. Instead he passes her off to an associate, Rocco who then shakes her small hands with his large ones. “Bella.”

“Oh hi!” Gigi yips, embracing the friendly giant before her. Surely enough their conversation covers for Lloyd as he goes after you in pursuit.

You immediately skirt away, already bubbling with champagne and unreasonable anger.

“What the fuck, Y/N!” You whisper yell at yourself, pivoting through the foyer that stretches from one end to another.

“What is wrong with you?” You’re apprehending yourself for the unaccounted tomfoolery. There’s no way you, of all people, felt some sort of way. No way.

“No entry, madam!” A man from coat check hollers. You circle back and walk past his vacant command. “Hi, excuse me! Sorry you can’t—“

“It’s alright, mate.” Lloyd breathlessly assures the teen who was merely attempting to do his job.

Just when you thought you lost him to the odious coquette, he turns up looking irrevocably sagacious with his hands spread apart like a true mafioso. “Really?”

You stop at a deadend that crescendos your impalpable defeat and submission. Your back is turned towards the man who’s caveats you a part of his name. But truly there’s nothing you could say or do that would make you seem reasonably sound. So you backpedal instead.

“This was a big fucking mistake.” You tremble, clouded with resentment that has Lloyd arching his brows ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah?” He folds his arms over his chest, biceps bulging and tightening under the fitted suit jacket. “How so?”

“I shouldn’t have come. You clearly don’t need me.” You squeak, disguising your infatuated sense of jealousy with urgency. Lloyd sucks in a deep breath. The night hasn’t been long enough to test his wit yet here he was questioning everything that was you.

“You’re right, I don’t.” He philosophizes. “But I also don’t have her if that’s what you’re trying to imply.” There’s a threatening matter of fact to his tone. You can’t fully exacerbate the nuance, not when your mouth worked faster than your brain.

“I don’t know that!” Oh get a grip, Y/N.

“Look, Gigi is an old business partner. She works in the diamond trade and so a lot of the time I keep her in close contact.”

“Bullshit.”

“She was asking about you.” He coos.

“No, she was ready to fuck you!”

“Of course she was!” Lloyd booms and then pauses, trying to properly paraphrase his thought process in a consoling plight. “But I wasn’t offering myself up. I just wanted to have something made… for you.”

“What?”

“You don’t have a ring, Mi Luna.” He patronizes, softening his inclination with a long, yearned gaze. You flinch, utterly mortified.

“Oh my god, that was a joke! I don’t—“

“Let me.” He shuts you down almost immediately and for that your frown lines deepen. “I haven’t done much and this would mean something.”

“It would mean nothing.” You retort, feeling your insides turn out.

“Or it can be returned once this is all done and over with.” Lloyd adds, resoundingly glum. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds like I should run with it.”

“Not so fast now baby girl.” He laughs while holding an arm out for you. “Shall we get back in?”

“With my own two feet, thanks.” You huff and puff.

“After you then.” Lloyd bows out the moment you brush past him. He’s truly bound by your insanity. His green eyed goddess.

#chris evans #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you #mafia!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x y/n #series: husband for hire

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kmp78 · 3 years

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Bella Hadid is always smiling lauging having fun with friends, she's nice not so dumb caring, cares about social issues, and is sexy attractive, interesting, she's really really good at her job, creative, also Gigi Hadid that is gorgeous naturally and is the best at what she does, they're not just products of nepotism and money, they are where they are and have made a name and money of their own because they're genuinely good at their job, genuinely nice people, have a spark charisma and great bodies, they're also business entrepreneurs, not paddled by sugar daddies they suck, many kids of rich try all the time to be in fashion and fail because they don't have it and can't back it up. This constant dragging against the Hadids here is jealousy and envy from the nasty petty Kaufmans Kiselevas that are liars fakes escorts users pieces of shit nobodies with no talent, or identity that copy all the time Bella and Gigi, and everyone else. You like to slum in the gutter but there's better out there.

***

Wow you're fucking nuts. 🤪👀

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letterboxd · 4 years

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Stanning the Ancients.

Valerie Complex probes the intersection of Greco-Roman mythology and queer experience in Portrait of a Lady on Fire, The Neon Demon, Jumbo and Midsommar.

Ancient stories have a way of influencing modern filmmakers—in part because of their “glorious” approach to love, as actor, writer and Greek-myth-lover Stephen Fry noted at this year’s digital Hay Festival. But even beyond depictions of same-sex love, Greco-Roman mythologies lend themselves well to tales of otherness and transformation.

Mythology isn’t just a bunch of stories from thousands of years ago—it’s something we create every day. Greco-Roman mythology, in particular, has less to do with the “godly” part of the pantheon, and more with their human qualities. Their lust, jealousy, wrath and greed: on display for not just other gods but all mortals under them. These stories were a portal for us to reckon with the less-savory parts of ourselves.

More than that, these stories were a cipher; a way for us to relate to one another without the need for conversation. What are celebrities and the gossip they inspire, if not modern myths? Stans are acolytes worshipping at the temples of their respective gods. They make offerings, pray to them, build altars. Every celebrity’s past is of great interest to their worshippers, who mine their back-stories for nuggets of relatability.

Beyond direct adaptations (Jason and the Argonauts, Clash of the Titans and the like), these ancient myths have informed many recent films (Prometheus and The Lighthouse; the Amazons and Wonder Woman; Oedipus and Old Boy; Homer’s The Odyssey and O Brother, Where Art Thou? included). But queer scholars have long seen Greco-Roman myths as having a particular way of helping shape queer cinematic experience, because they exist at the same intersections.

Consider the queer sensibilities in the tall tales that feature trans and intersex characters, and all the other ways the ancient poets encompass LGBTQIA expression: through their tales of otherness, outcasts living on the fringes of society, relationships that reject heteronormativity, or that push the bounds of sexuality and identity.

When myth and movie come together to create loose adaptations, film lovers are blessed with art like The Neon Demon, Jumbo, Midsommar and Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Let’s look at how Ovid, Euripides and Virgil have woven their way into the fabric of each of these stories. (Spoilers ahead!)

Noémie Merlant, Adèle Haenel and writer-director Céline Sciamma on the set of ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ (2019). / Photo by cinematographer Claire Mathon, courtesy of NEON

The Melancholy Experience of Finite Love and the Desire of the Gaze: Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire meets Virgil’s ‘Orpheus and Eurydice’

Virgil’s story of Orpheus and Eurydice is woven so literally and metaphorically into Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire that it’s interesting to discover how late in the piece it came. Sciamma told me in an interview at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2019 that the story was one of the last elements to be included in the script. When she re-read the myth, she felt it ran perfectly parallel to Marianne and Hëloise’s relationship because the concept of gaze is extremely important for both couples.

In Virgil’s tale, it was prophesied that the marriage of Orpheus and Eurydice would be short-lived—and so it was. Eurydice dies from a snake bite, and her soul is sent to Hades. While in mourning, Orpheus gets the attention of the gods by singing and playing the lyre.

Being the rule-breaker that he is, Orpheus travels to the underworld to bring Eurydice back. Hades and Persephone are moved by his music and grant his wish that he will reunite with his wife, instructing him to keep his eyes front while his wife walks behind him into the living world. Unfortunately, he turns around—and loses her forever. We don’t know why he turned around when he was told not to—did he make the poet’s choice, or the lover’s? Perhaps the memory of Eurydice felt more feasible than having her physically.

In Sciamma’s film, Marianne (the painter), Hëloise (her subject) and Sophie (the maid) are isolated on a small island in eighteenth-century France. The trio carve out a microcosmic community where they are equal peers and status has no power. Hëloise reads the story of Orpheus to her two friends; they discuss whether he makes the poet’s choice, or the lover’s choice. Marianne and Hëloise engage in a romantic relationship, subverting the hostile, patriarchal world they live in. When their time is finally up and Marianne is running to the door to leave, Hëloise requests she turn around to see her one last time, thus imprinting a lasting image in Marianne’s mind. No one dies in their story, but, with a look, their love for one another lasts beyond the physical world.

Watch: Céline Sciamma discusses the myth of Eurydice and Orpheus in this clip from the new Criterion release of Portrait of a Lady on Fire.

Elle Fanning as Jesse in ‘The Neon Demon’ (2016).

Reflections and personae in The Neon Demon: Nicolas Winding Refn takes on Ovid’s ‘Echo and Narcissus’

The harsh modeling world is the perfect backdrop for The Neon Demon, which deals with ideals of beauty, deceit and narcissism. The film is also a loose adaptation of the Roman poet Ovid’s story of Echo and Narcissus from Book III of Metamorphoses. Narcissus is the beautiful hunter who upsets Aphrodite when he rejects a low-level goddess in the most asshole-y way. She curses him, and he ends up drowning when he falls in love with his reflection and tries to kiss it over a pool of water.

In The Neon Demon, Jesse (Elle Fanning) wants to be fashion’s next ‘it’ girl. She has youth and beauty on her side, which invokes jealousy in others. As her star rises, Jesse is consumed by vanity. After her harsh rejection of make-up artist Ruby (Jenna Malone), and going on an egomaniacal tirade, she is pushed into an empty pool by Ruby’s friends Sarah (Abbey Lee Kershaw) and Gigi (Bella Heathcote), thus breaking her neck.

Two stories from different millennia share a common thread: characters who love themselves to death (literally). What separates them is the queer subtext, particularly in The Neon Demon. Does Refn know his film had queer subtext? Perhaps not, though the film itself is often included in modern queer horror lists. There is an explicit attraction between the main characters, and he does an excellent job examining what that looks like when they are clouded by envy. For the women, this desire manifests in the form of companionship (Ruby), status (Gigi) or consumption (Sarah). This queer interpretation aids Refn’s exploration of relationships that exists outside of the typical portrayal of female desire.

There is a debate among viewers regarding the queer subtext and the lesbian body horror aspects of the film. Many of the film’s critics denounced the level of sexual objectification of the young women. However, objectification is a hallmark of the story: it’s a movie about the modeling world. What people miss is not only how the external world oversexualizes these characters, but how they objectify one another, and that gaze lends itself to a strong queer asthetic.

Florence Pugh as Dani in ‘Midsommar’ (2019).

Outcasts and killer cults in Sweden: Euripides’ The Bacchae as told through Ari Aster’s Midsommar

In Greek tragedy The Bacchae, Dionysus tells the citizens of Thebes he is the son of Zeus. No one believes him. He is gaslit to the point of shame. With his reputation in a shambles, the spurned demigod leaves Thebes. He soon returns in disguise with a pack of rabid women who call themselves the Bacchae—they kill King Pentheus and burn Thebes to the ground because they didn’t listen. No-one listens to Midsommar’s main character, Dani, either.

Dani is in an emotionally abusive relationship with the gaslighting Christian, and is surrounded by Christian’s friends who reject her and see her as an emotional burden. Imagine how unhappy they are when Dani accompanies them on their trip to Sweden to visit the commune of the Harga people for their Midsummer celebration. Things spiral out of control when Dani unintentionally rises to godlike status within the Harga cult, which leads to, let’s just say, consequences for her dissenters.

On its surface, Midsommar is not queer cinema—at the center of the film is a heterosexual couple. However, Dani is an emotional outcast and feels like an outsider no matter where she is; it’s an echo of queer experience that is heightened when the women of the Harga embrace Dani. She gains status within the group and receives cathartic support from the young women of the commune. This allows her to purge the toxicity she’s experienced at the hands of Christian, his friends, and the outside world.

Sure, the Bacchae and the Harga are both dangerous, insular, microcosmic communities. Those attributes aside, these are two groups that exist separate from society at large, because their way of life is unique only to them.

Noémie Merlant gazes up at the object of her desire in ‘Jumbo’ (2020).

The Allure of Inanimate Objects: Zoé Wittock’s Jumbo vs Ovid’s ‘Pygmalion’

Another story from Ovid’s Metamorphoses features Cypriot sculptor Pygmalion, who swore off women in his city and took to isolation. In his time away from society, he carved a woman out of ivory and fell in love with it. He prayed to Aphrodite to bring the sculpture to life—and she did! Could this be an early case of objectum sexuality? While there is no divine intervention in Jumbo (which premiered at Sundance this year), Zoé Wittock’s film explores the meaning of objectum sexuality, which is a form of sexual or romantic attraction focused on particular inanimate objects.

In the film, Jeanne (Noémie Merlant—yes, Portrait of a Lady on Fire’s Marianne) isn’t interested in human interaction, other than with her mother Margarette (Emmanuelle Bercot). Working for the cleaning crew at an amusement park, she falls in love with the newest attraction, a tilt-a-whirl ride named Jumbo. As Jeanne’s desire grows, the ride comes to life and begins to communicate via colors and sounds.

Jeanne is a societal outcast who rejects human romance; her relationship with Jumbo subverts what society understands about sexuality and connection. Coming out to her mother about her attraction is also a challenge. Margarette isn’t open to what her daughter is feeling and reacts harshly toward Jeanne by coercing her into engaging in sex with men, and, when that doesn’t work, throwing her out of the house.

Eventually, Margarette realizes love is love, and as long as her daughter isn’t hurting anyone, she can learn to accept Jeanne’s love for Jumbo. Being pushed to the fringes of society for being honest (like Jeanne), or isolating yourself (like Pygmalion), is a scenario that queer folks are all too familiar with. At least Jeanne and Pygmalion don’t face tragic ends. The odds of being rejected by loved ones is high.

Coming out to family members is hard enough, especially when your very existence challenges their sense of normalcy. But this is why chosen families are important, and in both stories, the love of an accepting, chosen few is better than the approval of the majority.

Related content

Follow Valerie on Letterboxd

Valerie interviews “Celine the Machine” at the Angelika in New York earlier this year.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire director Celine Sciamma answers your questions in our Letterboxd Q&A.

Jumbo and Portrait of a Lady on Fire star Noémie Merlant answers our Life in Film questions.

Midsommar director Ari Aster talks pagan rituals and psychedelic drugs in a Letterboxd Q&A.

MundoF’s essential list Opening the Vault: A Chronological History of Queer Interest & LGBTQ+ Cinema.

The Top 100 Narrative Feature Films by Women Directors

The Top 100 Women Directors of the 2010s

The 2010s—Top Romance Films

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tabloidtoc · 4 years

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Star, July 20

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Tom Selleck walking away from Hollywood

Page 1: Five years after meeting on the set of Mad Men Jon Hamm and Anna Osceola are definitely a couple and they’re in love and have a lot in common

Page 2: Contents, Prince Charles

Page 3: LOL! A roundup of the week’s WTF moments and other funny business -- song of the week is Double Trouble from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga, Kim Kardashian West sold a 20% stake in her beauty company KKW to Coty and revealed that her business is now worth $1 billion, although Lori Loughlin and husband Mossimo Giannulli resigned from their posh Bel-Air Country Club one member is in a huff because they could be reinstated after their prison release saying that the club has become a laughingstock, Beyonce and Jay-Z’s daughter Blue Ivy Carter became the youngest person to ever win a BET award adding to her already impressive resume at just 8 years old, Dame Judi Dench says doing TikTok videos with her grandson Sam Williams helped chase away the blues during lockdown

Page 4: Peace talks for Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie -- after battling over custody for years Brad and Angie find a new way to put their kids first

Page 6: Margot Robbie and Kaley Cuoco who have both played Harley Quinn have been trash-talking each other behind the scenes -- studio and network bosses were hoping to get Margot and Kaley on stage together for a Meeting of the Harleys at the now-cancelled Comic-Con this summer but they both balked because not only is there professional jealousy they also just don’t like each other, Taylor Swift is feeling the FOMO as she watches former besties Gigi Hadid and Selena Gomez and Kendall Jenner and others having bikini-filled fun without her aboard yachts and private jets; they’re planning summer getaways together without dropping her an invite and her relationship with Joe Alwyn is to blame because after Taylor got serious with Joe she dropped her friends and got aloof and snobby but now she’s regretting letting so many good friends go and she’s begging them all for one last chance, Kylie Jenner’s friends are buzzing about rumors of a sex tape circulating and she’s freaking out because this is not the kind of attention she wants right now especially after her claim to being the youngest self-made billionaire was called into question

Page 8: Star Shots -- Shakira showing sons Milan and Sasha some bodyboarding ropes in Barcelona, Vanessa Hudgens, Rob Kardashian and Kourtney Kardashian

Page 10: Kevin Hart with son Hendrix on a trail ride, Pierce Brosnan, Lucy Hale in Fendi

Page 12: Jennifer Lopez, Paris Hilton color-coordinated her Alice+Olivia dress with her ride while joining forces with BMW in honor of the Trevor Project and Pride Month

Page 13: John Legend and co-driver Miles, Diane Kruger at the dentist, Mario Lopez and wife Courtney in Lake Tahoe

Page 14: Hoda Kotb helped two nurses say I Do, Dorit Kemsley modeling colorful pieces from her swimwear line, Sarah Michelle Gellar and Selma Blair recreated their kiss from Cruel Intentions while Sarah wore a mask

Page 16: MTV worlds collided when The Hills: New Beginnings’ Spencer Pratt and Jersey Shore: Family Vacation’s Jenni “JWoww” Farley faced off on Celebrity Family Feud with host Steve Harvey, Reese Witherspoon

Page 18: Normal or Not? Blake Shelton mistook a display of his Smithworks Vodka for the real thing on his 44th birthday -- Not Normal, Scout Willis rocked out to the rhythm on a walk -- Normal

Page 24: Orlando Bloom and Katy Perry’s delivery room drama -- baby jitters are beginning to overwhelm the engaged couple

Page 25: Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith have always been open about their unconventional union and now singer August Alsina said he and Jada carried on an affair for years after meeting in 2015 and that Will gave him his blessing, Hailey Bieber and Justin Bieber’s marriage of nearly two years has hit a snag with Hailey informing Justin that she needs some space -- with Justin fighting rape allegations he’s become clingy and Hailey had to sit him down and explain that it’s not healthy for them to be joined at the hip then she jetted to Italy for work with bestie Bella Hadid leaving Justin without his crutch and insecure about where they’re headed

Page 26: Cover Story -- Tom Selleck walking away from fame -- the revered star and dedicated family man is looking forward to slowing down and enjoying life on his 65-acre ranch

Page 30: Prince Harry controlled by Meghan Markle -- as Meghan and Harry continue to build a new life in America the take-charge duchess has her husband firmly under her sway

Page 32: Sexy at 30, 40, 50 and beyond! -- flirty 30s -- Carrie Underwood, Jenna Dewan, Julianne Hough

Page 33: Fit 40s -- Padma Lakshmi, January Jones, Sofia Vergara

Page 34: Fun 50s -- Elizabeth Hurley, Sarah Jessica Parker, Forever Fab -- Susan Lucci, Jane Seymour

Page 36: Beauty

Page 38: Style -- summery cellphone covers -- Kasey Musgraves

Page 40: Entertainment

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Duchess Kate Middleton got down and dirty during a visit to one of her first patronages the East Anglia’s Children’s Hospices

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swinterr · 5 years

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VALERIE III

People in Twitter are twitting about a video of Val’s reaction when she saw Shawn and Camila, she received mixed comments about her reaction.

Her parents are really protective about her, even her siblings mostly Vernon. Her Dad and Mom doesn’t understand what’s happening between them, they all thought that Shawn is gonna be Valerie’s forever.

Of course Shawn saw the video. He’s not stupid, he knows that he’s hurting Val.

He also saw the message Valerie send him but he didn’t read the it because he knows he cannot stop himself on answering back.

He loves Valerie so much, but he has to do this.

When he first play the video the first came to his mind is that Valerie looks so pretty, very pretty. Valerie isn’t really like those blonde, long legged, orange tan (well she is tan but not oramge tan). She looks like a goddess. She’s perfect.

Then he saw Vernon from the background, Shawn gets along well with Valerie’s family well but Vernon is the hardest one to get along. He is scared genuinely of Vernon.

The time when Brian told him that Valerie broke up with him, he excused himself on sound check saying he wasn’t feeling well. He went back to his hotel and cried holding Valerie sweater in his chest.

He cried for the half of the day. He only went out when it’s Q&A.

He really wants to fix this but he can’t, it’s too fucked up to be fixed. He feels so powerless.

Valerie feels awful when she got back home.

She didn’t ate dinner instead she spend her whole evening, well half of it, on the gym boxing with Vernon is a good exercise but she did her exercises alone, she did it without a trainer while Vernon does cardio. Actually she didn’t even do her exercises, she just keeps punching the punching bag until her knuckles bleed, until they severely bleed. Her mom has to take her to the nearest clinic to aid her bloody knuckles.

“Val, you’re knuckles are going to bleed if you keep doing this. Stop it you’re hurting yourself.” Vernon tried reasoning with Valerie, growing more and more concerned about her and her new obsession with puching the punching bag carelessly.

“No, it’s either I ruined this punching bag or I do more stupider sh!t than this.” Valerie’s voice is quiet and cold, She always had a my-voice-is-so-soft-and-I-will-not-raise-my-voice-on-anyone-bc-that’s-rude-attitude.

“Can you at least where gloves, hand wrap is not enough you know.” Vernon reminder her.

Valerie didn’t listen and brought her fists close to her face, finding her aim and released all of her pent up anger, frustrations and pain out through quick, sharp punches, showing no mercy on the already worn punching bag wanting to release all the pain she felt in the past few weeks. Sweat glistened every inch of her body, especially in her face.

Vernon can’t even distinguish if that even is sweat or tears, her curly hair sticking to her back, arms and all angles of her face.

Val could her Vernon stopping her in the background but she didn’t listen.

Soon the punching bag falls from where it’s hanging. And Valerie knuckles are bleeding.

“Dammit Valerie! You’re bleeding! Mom!” Vernon shouts.

Ever since Val and Shawn broke up Vernon is more over-protective of Val.

She really wants to go back to Toronto, but Toronto has too much memories for her to handle. She wishes that Bella and Gigi are here with her. She’s lucky enough to have a thought, loving and caring Anwar Hadid by her side.

Gigi, Bella and Anwar (even though they live near), Aaliyah, Ana, Lauren and Dylan (her friends back home), Kiera and Darius (her dorm mates) are texting her everyday saying that everything gonna be alright and Shawn’s a dick.

She can’t wait to go back to Massachusetts and receive pity looks. Insert sarcasm.

She just needs to wait few more days until they are schedule free.

Valerie hadn’t spoken to anyone since they came back from downtown Los Angles (besided her mom and Vernon who approach her). She is currently laying in her king sized bed.

Staring at the clock, watching it tick by. 11 o’clock in the night, she should be asleep by now but her mind is somewhere far away. Far away from all this drama and chaos that is currently happening in her life.

Sobbing her heart out. Puffy eyes and runny nose are they best description of Valerie right now. Maybe a fever in the morning too.

She never wanted to end their relationship like this. To be honest they can survive this relationship, Valerie is just tired of being treated like this.

Don’t get me wrong, Shawn’s a great boyfriend but he focuses on his career more than their relationship.

People though they are perfect for each other. She thought that Shawn will be THE ONE. Her grandparents from her mother and father’s side already met and approve of Shawn even the ones who live in Florence.

She genuinely believe that they are ment to be together but jealousy got her. Her insecurities got her.

Her heart still aches profoundly with pain. She miss her so much but it’s so unfair that he moved in that quickly.

Valerie, Shawn and Camila are trending right now. Everything seems so chaotic. Her sobs still fills her big room.

Instagram stans are making up the craziest sh!ts right, some makes her laugh and some are true that makes her cry hard.

@queenval

@queenval to be honest val is the greatest thing that ever happend to shawn. i love shawn sm but he stupid!!

50,234 likes

Shawn is the greatest thing that ever happend to her.

Shawn’s fans been calling him out because of his stupid moves. Many of her fans are still supporting Valerie even if they are not together anymore.

Valerie shakily reaches for her phone she usually listens to His music when she’s sad, but at this state listening to His music will make her more sad than ever.

Malibu Nights by LANY played. Is it ironic that she is listening to Malibu Nights heartbroken and she really wants to go to Malibu. Its just a 40 minute car ride. She can survive right?

She brought a beach house recently somewhere in Pacific Coast Highway. She brought it the exact day Shawn left Canada to continue his tour, Valerie brought the house because when she will visit Shawn on his tour this will be their hiding place.

People say that Valerie have it all; Brains, Beauty, Wealth but everything means nothing if you aren’t happy right?

Decided to spent the rest of her days in Malibu. Valerie picked this big ass box that has been sent to her by a company. She didn’t even bother to read what company it is all she knows that is a clothing company. Few shoes, hoodies and her underwears on her bag.

She dressed herself into a pair of jeans and a shirt, hoodie on her arm incase she’ll needs it.

Everyone is asleep so this should be the perfect time to sneak out, she closed her room door quietly as she held the big box on her hands, struggling to balance it and keys and a Gucci bagpack filled with he laptop, personal needs, medicines and this tiny vape pen she got from Anwar.

Valerie isn’t the type of girl who does wild stuffs, stuff like normal teenagers do. Maybe that’s the reason why they broke up, she’s too boring for him.

Well now that they are over, Valerie wants to do the things she didn’t do when they were together. Things teenagers would do.

Now she be vaping, she wants to have tattooes too. Val got a rose tattoo behind her ear on her 19th birthday. She wants to add more.

Valerie successfully got down from the 3rd floor, her room, to the ground floor.

She wants to do things that she hasn’t done yet. She opened her parents wine cellar and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir with a three bottles of beer and a big bottle of her father’s whiskey.

She didn’t really want to steal this alcoholic beverage but she know that many shops out there knows her and has a high possibility that they will post pictures about her underage and buying drinks.

She puts the bottles on her bag, wanting to go to Malibu quickly, she runs towards their garage, mentally kicking herself for having a loud foot steps.

For Valerie if is she’s sad or disappointed she chooses to be alone. Being with herself alone is always the best part of her day or best time of her day.

Valerie picked the black Mercedes-Benz G wagon.

She puts her things in the passengers seat and zoomed off to Malibu.

She felt tears start to form as the now familiar burn caused her to shut

her eyes for a moment and stop at the side of the expressway she like crying. For her crying is good for her mental health because crying can help reduce pain. Oxytocin is a hormone that promotes feelings of love and Endorphins help relieve pain. These two make people feel good and may also ease both physical and emotional pain.

But sometimes crying too much can also be bad for her, too much crying can lead to depression and she doesn’t want that. All she wants is to move on and live a happy life.

But moving on takes a lot of time.

The whole drive was quiet except for the radio and her quiet sobs.

She stopped on Target along the way to pick up some food for the next few days.

Valerie pulls up on the parking lot. The Californian cold wind creeps on her arm, regretting not wearing a hood and leaving it at the car.

Valerie pulls out the vape pen as she walks along the entrance of Target, she holds it to her mouth, tasting the vanilla flavored vape before releasing it. She lets out a deep sigh with some vapor leaving along her mouth and nose she continues this few times and stopping as she enters the shop.

She just pick up fruits for breakfast, pasta, vegetables and chicken for dinner, chocolate flavored milk, a gallon of water and eggs. She likes cooking, she doesn’t buy a lot of processed foods and microwaveble foods. She payed the cashier keeps giving her looks, is it because the cashier knows her or because she is the front page of one of the magazines on the counter.

“Is this you?” the cashier ask as she types something on the computer.

“Nope.” Valerie answers back as puts the goods she brought on a biodegradable bag and puts it back to the cart.

She walk back to her car and few teenagers curiously stares at her. She struggles to put the groceries on the car because it has a big tires and obviously a tall car competed to her 5’6 self.

She finally sees her house on the view.

Her gates open, headlights giving her the view of her house as well as the Pacific Ocean. The entryway features a reclaimed European fountain and big door that open to opulent interiors.

Her house looks so homey yet loney. She is used to go on a vacation with her family or family or with Shawn.

She inserts the keys while struggling to lift her heavy backpack filled with alcoholic drinks the big box and groceries she brought are stacked upon each other.

She enters her new house, she walks on the hardwood floors pushing the box with the groceries on top, she stares at vaulted ceiling and sees a Indian stone fireplace and custom designed sitting area.

For her, a house with a fireplace and a big couch is a must.

The balcony is a sliding door that has a view of the Malibu Coast.

Valerie finally fixed her clothes on her closet, turns out the box is from Gucci. Now she has a Gucci filled closet. Yey!

Her refrigerator is filled with groceries. Yey!

It’s already 12:34 am and she is still wide awake. She sits on her couch as she finds for her cell.

She looked everywhere, her hoodie, her bag, her car, on the closet even the refrigerator.

She left it on Bel Air. Yey!

She doesn’t have anything to do she she just drinks the alcohol she brought lol! Her TV still doesn’t have any channels and her house doesn’t have a wifi.

Valerie drinks the vodka shot in one gulp, ignoring the burning sensation in her throat caused by the strong liquor.

“I love you so much why did you do this to me!” she gulped the vodka down.

“I wish I didn’t love you! But I did I’m so stupid!” she gulped the other one.

“I don’t wanna date anyone anymore!” and another one.

Despite this, Valerie’s body feels more relaxed and her mind feels lighter and more problem free. It took her couple vodka shots for achieve this but it was worth it.

The bottle is nearly empty so she just decided to drink the bottle.

It’s a quarter past midnight. The buzz has worn off, now she is just dead ass drunk.

She miraculously arrived at her room, passing the stairs and remembering her room is a miracle.

As much as she wanted to sleep she washes her face and brushed her teeth and changes in a bougee Gucci pajama and sleep on her big bed with the view of the sea like a baby.

Alcohol can really make you forget everything temporarily even pain.

taglist:

@night-girls-world

@alinashawn

@feliciaceciliamariajacobsson

I FINALLY POSTED THIS. PLEASE LOVE ITT HEHEEH

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #angst #fluff #shawn mendes angst #valerie

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tylrswftss · 6 years

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Hailey x Shawn

send me a ship and i’ll break them down.

How did they they meet? : probably at a party one of their mutual friends hosted. or at an award show.

Who developed romantic feelings first? : shawn... he’s too soft

Who is their biggest “shipper?” : their fans!!

When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances? :

Who confessed their feelings first? : the sofie that shawn is fsknsd

What was their first official date? : hailey came to visit him in toronto and he shower her all of his favorite places around town!

How do they feel about double dates/group dates? : they prefer to keep to themselves.

What do they do in their down time? : they like to do really lowkey things and usually just spend the day together as a family and do fun things with elle.

What was the first meeting of parents as an official couple like? : it was good! shawn always really liked hailey’s dad so he was super nervous but it all turned out just fine.

What was their first fight over and how did they get past it? : it was probably over something really petty? maybe even shawn’s jealousy but after he apologized it was all good again.

Which one is more easily made jealous? : they both get jealous really easily.

What is their favourite thing to get to eat? : shawn probably drags hailey out to get poutine every other day.

Who’s the cuddly one? What their favourite cuddling position? : hailey is.

Are they hand holders? : yes!!

How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time? What’s the circumstances? : they decided they were both ready about six months into their relationship.

Who tops? : shawn.

Who does the shopping and the cooking? : hailey does the shopping and shawn the cooking.

Which one is more organized and prone to tidiness? : shawn is the organized one. hailey just leaves her stuff everywhere.

Who proposes? : shawn does.

Do they have joined Bachelor/Bacheloette parties or separate? : seperate ones.

Who is the best man/maid of honour? Any other groomsmen or bridesmaids? : shawn would probably either ask his childhood best friend brian or niall horan! and hailey’s best maid would be justine. and her other friends like kendall, gigi and bella would be bridesmaids.

Big Ceremony or Small? : big!

Do they have a honeymoon? If so, where? : they’d go somewhere tropical.

Do they have children? How many? : one daughter.

#glossivr #answered: meme #( been waiting for a lifetime for you — shawn&hailey )

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millenialmoviereviews-blog · 7 years

Photo

The Neon Demon (2016) The Neon Demon is a strikingly beautiful film written and directed by Nicolas Winding Refn and stars Elle Fanning, Keanu Reeves and Jenna Malone. First things first this movie is extremely good looking. As the name suggests, Refn uses an intense amount of Neon and color in this film, which contrasts the cold depiction of Los Angeles that is put forth on screen. The story revolves around Elle Fanning's character "Jesse" who moves to LA in pursuit of becoming a supermodel. She befriends her makeup artist "Ruby" (played by Jenna Malone) and is thrust into the cutthroat underground of the modeling scene. Throughout this film, we see Jesse go through an intense change. In the begging of the film she is timid and weak, and towards the end she is more than aware of her beauty and how in-demand she is. She no doubt gets a taste of jealousy from rival models Gigi and Sarah, played by Bella Heathcote and real life supermodel Abbey Lee. Where this movie waivers is no doubt the plot. Refn insists on telling you the story through frames, which in this case ultimately hurts the film. The transitional scene that impacts the outcome of our main character Jesse seems to be almost surreal but "rushed", for lack of a better word, and much to insubstantial for a film of this caliber. The characters and their interactions can almost be seen as shallow, sometimes it's all surface. And when you peel back the curtain you are left with hollow vessels. But visually, this film stays true to Refn's intense macabre style and it does not fully disappoint. Overall, I give this movie a 7/10. It's dark, it's beautiful, and it'll eat your heart out (literally).

#elle fanning #christina hendricks #abbey lee kershaw #nicolas winding refn #jenna malone #film #the neon demon

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exposingsmgask · 7 years

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hey i remember i was reading something im not sure if it was a post or here on ask but anyways, you said something like gigi always thought she's the best one in the family and that she sometimes treated bella like shit. Did that change now? Bc it seems they have an amazing relationship

Yeah they're pretty close now. In the beginning, there was jealousy and Gigi was like the golden child to everyone but Bella made a name for herself

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gcintheme-blog · 7 years

Text

Liberal Feminists: Either the Hijab is a Choice or It Isn’t.

There was a controversy a couple months ago that I found very funny. Keep in mind, I live in Iraq where murdering a your daughter because you think she had sex is guaranteed a limited sentence legally. So partially I think addressing this is silly. Another part of me thinks Western liberal feminists and Western Muslims need to hear this.

So a few months ago, Vogue released its first Vogue Arabia edition with Gigi Hadid on the cover. There are definitely annoying things about this magazine. The editor of Vogue Arabia at the time (who is now changed) was Deena Abdulaziz who is literally a princess in Saudi Arabia. Walking around in fashionable Western clothes and editing a magazine about a lifestyle that maybe 5% of Arab women can afford while the Saudi royal family is committing crimes against women, Yemeni people, and religious minorities in the Gulf is really obnoxious. I don’t like this magazine and I don’t think it accurately represents the average Arab woman at all, though it isn’t meant to.

I had this entire post formatted with pictures, but probably because of my bad internet connection they’re not working. So, here is a link to the cover of the magazine and here is a link to a photograph inside with Gigi Hadid and her hair covered.

Almost immediately, as they do, the liberal feminists started saying angry things about the images. I had saved some screenshots and again added them here, but tumblr is not allowing me to use photos, so here is a link to a Buzzfeed article with some tweets.

Now, let’s clarify some things about Gigi Hadid. Her father is a Palestinian Muslim who moved to the United States when he was a child. Her sister Bella has said she is “proud to be a Muslim” and that her father “was always religious, and he always prayed with us.”

Here is a photograph of the Hadid sisters protesting Trump’s Muslim ban in New York City.

So these accusations of Gigi Hadid “not being a Muslim” are not completely true. It seems she does has a Muslim family background and was raised (at least partially) in the religion. She is also not completely politically inactive on behalf of Muslims or Arabs as these people are claiming.

She cannot “appropriate” Palestinian or Arab culture because she is Palestinian-American, and the last time I checked, political activity is not required to have an ethnicity. Neither is walking into every room and saying “I am X ethnicity” to warn everyone if you want to do something cultural.

I don’t want to focus too much on Gigi Hadid though, because this post isn’t about her as a person. It is about the contradictions and hypocrisy of liberal feminists regarding the hijab.

Liberal feminists and Western Muslims shout, very loudly, that the hijab is a choice. They love to shut down any criticism of the garment by condemning those who criticize that choice. I’ve never said and I don’t believe that women should be forced to wear or not wear something. I will defend the right of women to wear or not wear what we want to around the world. We’re subjugated no matter what we wear, though differently in difference places. Wear what you want. Make your own choices. Just don’t expect me to defend everything you do or call it empowering because you, a woman, decided to do it.

So, if the hijab is a true and free choice then why are liberal feminists criticizing Gigi Hadid for choosing to wear it? Either it is a choice that women can make at will, or it isn’t. You can’t have it both ways. Once you start drawing limits on women who can and cannot wear the hijab, you remove your argument that it is a woman’s choice to cover or not cover as she chooses.

Now, I understand the annoyance with your religious garment being used on the cover of a hyper-capitalist magazine. Like I’ve already said, I’ve got a lot of problems with an elitist publication like this. However, once you say that wearing the hijab is a choice, and demand criticisms of that choice to be silenced, you have also lost your ability to criticize others who make that choice.

If it’s really a choice, then Gigi Hadid’s motivations don’t matter. Nothing about her matters. If someone has the true free will to make a choice and we respect that choice, then we don’t have the luxury of examining her motivations.

If you believe women should be allowed to do something because they have a bodily right to it, then you cannot place stipulations on that choice. For example, you cannot call yourself “pro-choice” regarding abortion for women if you think that abortion should only be permitted under some circumstances or some motivations. If abortion is really the choice of the woman, then it should be completely irrelevant if she was raped, if she is married, if she cannot afford a child, or if she just does not want to carry that pregnancy. Her choice is her choice and once you put requirements or stipulations with that, you remove the choice.

If the hijab is truly a choice, and a choice that women make freely and must be respected for, then it cannot matter whether they cover in order to please God, or their families or communities, or whether they feel it’s culturally important, or whether they’re afraid of getting attacked, or whether they’re trying to sell magazines.

If the hijab is a personal decision, then it doesn’t matter who does or does not wear it, or why. You cannot place arbitrary rules on the practice but then demand the rest of us go along without examining them. As soon as you say that other women must wear the garment for certain reasons, or must make a certain commitment to wearing it all the time, you are admitting that it isn’t an open choice. If your clothing is a personal choice then its meaning can only be important to you. The actions of other people cannot change that.

It’s wrong that women who wear the hijab are “attacked, shamed, and threatened” in some parts of the world. It’s also wrong that women who don’t wear the hijab are attacked, shamed, and threatened in other parts of the world. And, it’s wrong that women are attacked, shamed, and threatened for wearing clothes that reveal certain parts of their bodies. It’s wrong that women are blamed for being raped if they are wearing revealing clothing just as it’s wrong to blame a hijabi for an attack on her because of her clothes.

But, we see revealing clothing on magazines and advertisements all the time. Where are the comments on how strippers and prostitutes are shamed for what they wear? Where are the comments on how women dressing like that and walking alone would be attacked, and then blamed for the attack? Where are the comments on how women could be arrested or even killed for dressing like that in some parts of the world?

If the hijab can be “liberating” and “empowering” just like wearing showing skin can be (according to liberal feminists) then you cannot have the double-standard. Either women should be unquestionably celebrated (or at least left alone) for how they dress, or they should be open to criticism for how their clothing reflects on other women and the state of society. Either women can wear the hijab as they choose, or they can’t. You cannot have it both ways.

You also cannot use the phrase “actual hijabis” without admitting that there is some set of rules and requirements for wearing the hijab, and therefore it is not a free choice. I am assuming here an “actual hijabi” is a woman who always covers in public or when there are men around who are not part of her family, which is the commonly-accepted obligation. A free choice cannot include such a limiting and un-free ultimatum.

Again, if women must wear the hijab on all of these occasions (which are importantly male-centric) in order to wear it at all, then wearing the hijab is not a choice. If women cannot set their own conditions for how, when, and why they choose to cover then you admit that the hijab is not a complete choice but a set of social requirements that must be specifically followed. If the hijab is a choice, then there can be not set of requirements to make that choice legitimate.

To the hijabis who insist they wear the hijab as a personal choice and do not criticize other women for their personal choices: good for you. I do support your choice to wear what you want (though I don’t consider this empowering) and I hope you can support me in doing the same.

But you need to realize that Gigi Hadid is not a threat to you. I am not a threat to you. Women who criticize sexism within cultures that demand women dress a certain way are not a threat to you. Patriarchy is the threat and by refusing to acknowledge this patriarchy and its effects on how women are forced to behave in society, you are enabling the threat.

I live in Iraq, where women who remove their veils can be beaten to death by their families, and the government allows this. Part of my country is occupied by ISIS, which requires women to cover head-to-toe and rapes, enslaves, and murders women who don’t follow every rule or their specific type of Islam. My country borders Saudi Arabia and Iran, where women are forced to cover and sometimes even stoned to death for “adultery” if they are raped.

To me, the hijab is a symbol of extreme patriarchy, the possession of women, male violence, jealousy and domestic control. I fear every day that as political Islam grows in Iraq, I might be forced to legally cover tomorrow. In some parts of my country I have to cover to blend in or I could be raped or killed.

And still I defend your right to wear it. I might question your motivations for doing so, but I don’t believe that the hijab is a free choice. I don’t think most things that we as women do are free and uninfluenced choices away from patriarchal control or immune to criticism, including many of the things I do. In a patriarchal system, the choices we do have are still subject to that patriarchy and we should examine them, the same way in a capitalist system, the choices we do have are still subject to capitalism and we should examine them. We don’t have to like patriarchy or capitalism to acknowledge they influence us.

Either the hijab is a choice, or it isn’t. If you want the right to wear it without criticism, you must give every other woman the chance to do the same thing. If it is really a personal choice, then what the rest of us do with it should not change its meaning for you. If you don’t want me to question that choice for you, then you can’t question it for other women.

#iraq #hijab #criticism #feminism #gender critical #gigi hadid #vogue arabia #womens rights #middle east #patriarchy

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