#but i had to start with probably the most iconic: the stiletto

[necroticboop]

Viktoria Modesta's Prototype MV ⤷ Stiletto Prosthetic highlight

#✦ gifs #viktoria modesta #amputee #ballet #prosthetics #prosthetic limbs #prosthetic leg #the artistry in her prosthetics is unmatched so i wanna highlight a couple #but i had to start with probably the most iconic: the stiletto #dance #the alternative limb project

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Harry Styles — Enchanted

In honor of Harry’s 28th birthday, here is a long oneshot based on the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Masterlist

You had been invited to the 2019 Met Gala ahead of the release of your movie, Emma. After having some success in supporting roles, it was your first starring role, and it felt strange to be invited to an event by yourself, instead of as part of a larger cast. At least you knew Alessandro Michele from the perfume campaign you shot for Gucci earlier in the year, but since he was co-chair of the event he would probably be busy the whole night with people way more famous than you’d ever be. You were honestly kind of surprised that you were even invited.

In the back of the limo taking you to the event, you were frantically texting Joey King. The two of you had gotten close on the set of Summer ‘03, and had been nearly inseparable ever since.

u should be the one on the way to the met gala rn, not me!!!! You sent.

stop! u deserve this as much as anyone! She responded. Your phone then vibrated three times in rapid succession with new messages.

more than anyone, actually.

i’m just a teen rom-com nobody, but YOU were the face of gucci bloom!!!

also, no one under 21 is allowed :(

i’m literally about to throw up all over my dress

you’ll be fine, i promise. just be confident, and when in doubt, talk about the movie. and think about next year - we’ll be there together as an iconic bff duo. we can wear matching outfits!

if i get invited back, which i probably won’t if i show up with puke all over me

lol! just take deep breaths. and just think - maybe you’ll sit next to harry styles!

a girl can dream… that would definitely make me throw up, though.

gtg, we’re pulling up front ahhhhh!

i’ll try to steal you a souvenir

and this is why i love you! (laughing emoji) go kill it, bestie!

You smiled down at your phone, grateful for Joey’s ability to always cheer you up. Although you were still sick with nerves, you felt a little better knowing that at least you looked good. Smiling a little, you smoothed the skirt of your dress before grabbing the driver’s hand and letting him help you out of the car. You joined the line of people waiting for their turn on the pink carpet out front.

:readmore:

After about ten minutes, it was your turn to step up. You were photographed alone, first, before being ushered next to Alessandro. His metallic pink look complimented your own nicely; he had styled you in a baby-pink empire-waist dress in homage to your upcoming movie, but with a full tulle skirt and giant, exaggerated puff sleeves. The dress was tea-length, showing off the delicate gold strappy stilettos on your feet, which matched the gold headpiece weaved into the intricate updo that you were sure you’d need help to take out.

“You look gorgeous, darling,” Alessandro whispered as you posed together, and your smile brightened. “I’ll find you when I’m inside, there’s someone I want you to meet!” You nodded, and he kissed your hands before you were whisked away by an assistant. She was explaining something to you about how the night would go, and you nodded along at all of the right moments. Once inside, you saw people talking over cocktails spread throughout the entryway.

“Once everyone’s here, you’ll head into the main room,” the assistant explained. You thanked her and headed straight for the bar for a glass of white wine. When the bartender handed it over not a minute later, you regretted not ordering something more complicated, but you thanked him and turned around to scan the room. Your heart sped up as you realized that most of the people here were either a lot older than you, or had been child stars, and just as you were about to go hide in the bathroom until dinner started, the woman standing next to you at the bar started up a conversation. You breathed a sigh of relief, and let her talk about all of her charity work. She was some New York socialite you’d never heard of until then. With a forced smile, you asked for more information about one of the organizations she supports, hoping to buy time until Alessandro was done outside.

Unfortunately, though, shortly after your question one of the woman’s friends swept her away to the other side of the room, and you were left trying to scan the room out of the corner of your eye. An older man with a pinched face walked up to the bar next to you. After he ordered his drink, he turned to face you.

“Hello, Y/N, right?” He asked with a wolfish grin on his face. You nodded. “I saw you in Summer ‘03, I thought you were great, but…” He trailed off into a tangent about plot holes and you tuned it out, nodding whenever he paused for a breath.

You were still discreetly scanning the room, looking for any way out of the conversation. Finally, you caught Elle Fanning looking over at you, and she waved you over to where she was chatting with her sister and Hailey Bieber. Relief flooded your body at the sight of a familiar face -- she and Joey had been friends for a while, so you had met her on a few occasions before and she had always been extremely nice.

“It was lovely to meet you, but I’m afraid I have to make my rounds,” you said, hoping your tone sounded more apologetic than you felt.

“Well, if you have some time later, I’d love to discuss this further with you!” The man, who hadn’t even told you his name, said with a little too much enthusiasm for your liking.

With a small, strained smile, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for Elle.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed as soon as you got close enough to hear. She introduced you to the other girls, and as you chatted with them about your outfits and upcoming projects, your nausea started to subside. Maybe the Met Gala wasn’t so scary, after all.

After just a few minutes, Alessandro swooped in, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Ladies, you all look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, gesturing to the other three girls in your group. “Of course, I wish you were wearing me, but…” He trailed off with a sly smile, making the others giggle.

“Not all of us are as inspiring as Y/N?” Elle supplied.

“Precisely.” You felt your face flush slightly and were grateful for the thick foundation and ample blush your makeup artist had applied for the event. “And that’s why, even though it pains me, I must whisk her away.” He patted your cheek gently. “This beauty must be paraded around.” You met Elle’s gaze and rolled your eyes.

“Talk to you later,” you called over your shoulder as Alessandro led you over to another group of people. He introduced you to a few celebrities and industry bigwigs, and as you inched closer to Beyonce, your nerves returned. As much as you would have loved to meet her, you weren’t sure if you were ready for that quite yet.

While Alessandro talked about his plans for an upcoming campaign with a few models and an agent, you let your gaze wander, taking in everyone’s outfits. You spent more time than was appropriate staring at Lady Gaga’s gorgeous, hot pink gown before you felt a familiar tingle on the back of your neck. It felt like someone was looking at you. Shaking your head slightly, you pulled your gaze from Lady Gaga and turned your head just slightly so you could see over your shoulder a bit, and you caught Harry Styles staring right at you. He had a drink in one hand and was leaning back against the bar, somehow managing to look casual even in a sheer, ruffled blouse. Your breath caught in the back of your throat as you realized you could see his tattoos through the fabric of his shirt. One side of his mouth quirked up when you trailed your gaze up to meet his green eyes. A familiar fluttering exploded in your stomach, and once again you were grateful to your makeup artist as you were sure underneath it all you were bright red. You dropped your gaze to the floor, smiling to yourself, and turned back to the conversation.

After a few more minutes, Alessandro swept you away again, and you felt like his doll, dressed up and being dragged around. It was nice to have someone you were comfortable with, but it was a bit overwhelming, meeting so many people in such a short amount of time. You had barely registered what direction he was leading you before you came to a halt, directly in front of Harry.

Alessandro pulled the other man in for a hug, kissing both of his cheeks affectionately.

“Harry!” He exclaimed as he pulled away, returning to your side.

“Alessandro!” Harry mimicked him, face lighting up in excitement. You bit your lip to keep from giggling; his enthusiasm was adorable.

“Finally, my two muses get to meet.” Alessandro turned to you. “Y/N, this is Harry. Harry, this is Y/N.” You froze, unsure of what to do, but Harry reached a hand out to you, palm open. After a moment’s hesitation, you placed your hand in his palm, just barely grazing his skin. But that was all it took. Fireworks, butterflies, electricity, your body cycled through every cliche in a matter of milliseconds. He squeezed your hand and brought it up to his lips, brushing them against the delicate skin on the back and causing goosebumps to erupt on the spot. His lips lingered for a moment.

“Enchante,” he whispered, and you could feel the movement of his lips on your skin. Finally, he lowered your hand back down, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. You felt lightheaded and sick in the best way possible, and you were sure he could see your heart beating through your skin.

“Hi,” you breathed, once you had caught your breath.

“Pleasure to finally meet you. I’m afraid we’ve been missing each other, like ships passing in the night.” His voice was warm and comforting

“Yeah.” You giggled slightly, trying to release some of the pressure in your chest. “Though I have spent a fair amount of time staring at the giant poster of your face.” You hoped he would understand the reference to the campaign artwork that Ale had put up in the back of the store where you had spent much of the last two weeks in dress fittings.

“Has he told you we’ll be working together in the next campaign?”

“I think he just did, but I was too distracted by Lady Gaga so I wasn’t paying much attention.” The corners of his eyes crinkled up when he laughed, and you decided your only goal in life is to hear that laugh as much as possible.

“She is stunning,” Harry agrees. “But you look positively ethereal.”

“Says you. I’m surprised you were standing here alone; I’m sure every woman in this room is dying to get a closer look at your tattoos.”

“I think they’re afraid to approach me if I’m honest. They make you the co-chair and suddenly you’re untouchable.”

“I completely forgot about that. Should I get down and kiss your shoes, your majesty?”

“Don’t be silly, a curtsy is perfectly acceptable.” Your eyes widened and panic flickered in your chest, but his laughter put your fears at ease.

“‘M only joking. ‘S not a big deal, really, I’m mostly just arm candy for Ale.” For the first time since you laid eyes on Harry, you turned your attention back to the room around you and noticed that Alessandro had disappeared.

“That makes two of us.” When you turned your attention back to Harry, he was grinning. A huge, goofy grin lit up his entire face, like the light inside him was bursting at the seams so much it was impossible to keep inside. The selfish part of you hoped it was all for you, but you tried not to get your hopes up. Before he could say anything else, one of the assistants walked up and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Harry? It’s time for the receiving line,” she whispered to him.

“Thanks, I’ll be there in just a moment,” he replied, his voice taking on a more formal, distant tone than it had just minutes before. The assistant nods and scurries off, leaving the two of you alone again.

“Guess I gotta go serve my arm candy duty,” Harry said, lower lip stuck out in a slight pout. You had to fight the urge of your inner One Direction stan self to lean in and suck it in between yours.

“Should we take it in shifts tonight, then?” You said with a laugh, trying to give him an out but secretly hoping he wouldn’t take it.

“As tempting as that is, it’d be more fun to do it together, d’you think?” You were so shocked by his reply all you could do was nod. His lips quirked up into a smirk and he finished the last dregs of his drink before pushing himself away from the bar, closer to you. “Then it’s settled. See you in there?” He jerked his head in the general direction of where you assumed dinner was since no one had actually told you.

“I’ll be the one in pink,” you said, finally regaining your ability to form sentences. It was surprisingly easy; even though being near Harry-fucking-Styles made you feel like you were melting into a pile of goo, the conversation was effortless, ebbing and flowing like waves gently crashing on the shore.

“Don’t forget to curtsy!” He called over his shoulder with a wink. Smiling, you shook your head to focus back on your surroundings. Met Gala, right, I’m at the fucking Met Gala, you thought to yourself, still in disbelief. As you scanned the room, you saw it had emptied slightly, and most people were filling out through a set of french doors to the right of the room. You ordered another glass of wine and hung back, letting the more important people go first. Plus, you didn’t want to get to your table earlier than you had to, because Ale, and now Harry, were the only people you knew and they would be the last ones seated.

Once the room was almost empty, you swallowed the last sip of wine in your glass and made your way out, too.

The receiving line was a really strange experience. There were more people than you were expecting. The line stretched down a wide, dark corridor, lit only by a few sconces. What seemed like a million museum-related people kissed your cheeks and told you that you looked beautiful, and you were passed from one to the next in a whirlwind of expensive perfume.

Ale and Harry were at the end of the line, followed by Anna Wintour herself at the very end. When you finally made it to him, Ale pulled you into a hug, squeezing you to him tightly.

“Ma petite beauté!” He exclaimed, holding you at arm's length. “Good to see you haven’t spilled on your dress.” He was referencing the time you showed up to a fitting in a coffee-stained shirt after someone bumped into you on the subway.

“It was one time,” you said, rolling your eyes. “And I’ve been sticking with white wine, just in case.”

“Good girl.” He patted your cheek, then ushered you along to Harry.

“Hello again,” Harry said, and the way his accent drew out the vowels in each word made your knees weak.

“Your majesty,” you greeted, bending into the slightest curtsy with a smirk. The laugh that your actions drew from Harry’s lips was like honey, deep and rich.

“Finally, someone who actually respects my title!”

“I think if you had a crown people would realize how important you are.”

“That’s a great idea!” He turned to Ale, who was in the middle of talking to someone else. “Ale! Why didn’t you give me a crown?”

“Please,” Alessandro scoffed, “If anyone here deserves a crown, it’s Y/N.” You cover your mouth to try and hide the giggles that are bubbling out of you at the sight of Harry’s frown.

“I mean, he’s not wrong, but he didn’t have to say it like that,” Harry grumbled with a hint of faux-hurt in his voice.

From Harry’s other side, Anna cleared her throat.

“One second, one second,” Harry said, putting a hand up to tell her to chill. He reached for your hand again and you met him halfway, sliding yours into the warmth of his. His other hand clasped around it, and he bent down slightly, staring into your eyes with his own, deep green and sparkling. You let one corner of your lip twitch up into a small smile when he squeezed your hand.

“Save a dance for me?” He asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

“I think I can pencil you in,” you answered, winking. Satisfied with that answer, he let go of your hand and made a big show of ushering you over to Anna. She shook her head, laughing at him, and pulled you in for a hug, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks.

“Welcome Y/N, thank you for coming,” she said as she reached for you.

“Thank you for having me,” you replied, wrapping your arms around her lightly.

“You two look great together,” she whispered into your ear with a pointed look over at Harry. You were pretty sure that the blush on your face was becoming permanent and that it would still be there when you took your makeup off later that night.

“We just met,” you whispered back, sparing a quick glance over at Harry who was chatting politely with the person behind you in line.

“I expect to see the two of you back here next year, together,” Anna said with a wink. “Now go on, grab a drink, mingle, it’s the Met Gala!” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at her dramatics and thanked her one more time before moving into the room. It was a large space full of tables, each with a centerpiece themed around the brand that purchased them. You found the Gucci table easily and looked for your name on the place cards. Your spot was across from Ale, next to Dakota Johnson and Florence Welch. Nobody else was seated yet, instead, they were spread out around the room enjoying drinks and chatting, so you decided to grab another glass of wine from the bar and wander around to look at some of the exhibits.

When you returned to your table, about half of the people had taken their seats, and your place card had been moved. In its place at your seat was Jared Leto’s. You glanced around the table, confused, but no one seemed to notice that anything was wrong. With a shrug, you made a lap around the table and found your card between Harry and Saorise Ronan. Ale’s spot was on Harry’s other side, and you wondered if he had moved you, trying to play matchmaker.

The two co-hosts did not come over to the table after the receiving line disbanded. They followed Anna up onto the stage at the front of the room, and you listened to them introduce her, laughing at their easy banter.

Ale and Harry took their seats while Anna talked, and Ale’s brows furrowed at you as he slid into his spot. You widened your eyes at him, pushing up your shoulders in the smallest hint of a shrug. As you turned your attention back towards Anna, you caught Harry’s eye and he winked at you with a small smirk on his lips.

Once Anna had finished her speech, a group of waiters descended on the table with the first course of the meal. At regular intervals throughout the night, they returned with more food, each dish more bizarre than the one before. The food tasted incredible, but the portions were tiny and the presentation made some things hard to eat.

Throughout the meal, you followed along with the conversations around you, only chiming in when someone addressed you directly. You were content to listen and take in your surroundings, soaking up your first Met Gala.

During the salad course, Harry leaned over, so close you could feel his breath tickle the side of your face.

“Pretty sure this doesn’t even count as food,” he whispered, gesturing towards his plate, and the three spinach leaves perched like a tent over a single cherry tomato with a line of dressing on the plate beside it. You choked on a laugh and tried to play it off as a cough.

“Yeah, I usually prefer my dressing on the salad instead of spread on the plate,” you whispered back, which made Harry laugh. Ale’s head whipped around to look at the two of you with a hint of a smile on his lips, abruptly interrupting his conversation with Jared and Dakota.

After the dessert plates were collected, everyone dispersed either to one of the bars for a refill or to smaller groups around the room for more socializing. Before you stood up, you slid a fork into your purse to bring back for Joey.

“Time to make the rounds,” Harry said as our table got up to mingle. You smiled and nodded as if you, too, had rounds to make (you didn’t). He took a few steps away then turned back toward you with a cheeky grin. “Save me a dance?”

“I’ll pencil you in,” you said, trying to stop yourself from smiling too big. The response slid off your tongue without conscious thought and you were shocked that it was not only coherent but funny, too. As soon as Harry was gone Ale swooped in to introduce you to what felt like everyone at the gala, singing your praises to anyone who would listen. Surprisingly, most people already knew who you were and were super nice. There was only one guy, some record producer, who was really rude, so all in all your first Met Gala was going better than you expected.

Harry had played a big part in that, of course, and as you followed Ale around the room, your eyes unconsciously sought him out. You didn’t realize you were doing it until his green eyes met yours, offering a wink or a smirk in your direction.

After another hour of chatting and drinking, the night took a turn. The lights started to dim and the chatter slowly dissipated into silence. Ale disappeared to go get another drink and suddenly you were left alone on the sidelines. You were glad to have a minute to breathe and take in your surroundings and scanned the room. Your eyes were drawn to Harry again, who was talking with a tall girl in a long black dress and towering heels that made her even taller. The tabloids had been publishing photos of him hanging out with some model, but from a distance, you couldn’t tell if it was her or not. You tried to swallow the jealousy that was rising within you, reminding yourself that you just met him and had absolutely no claim whatsoever, but your heart really wasn’t listening. Just as you were about to turn away and follow Ale to the bar, Harry turned his head and caught your eye, face lighting up as soon as you made eye contact. He leaned in to say something to the girl and she nodded at him, and then suddenly he was making his way towards you.

“You finally escaped Ale?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow at you.

“He went to get another drink, but I think he got distracted,” you answered with a giggle, turning towards the bar where Ale was performing some sort of card trick for a small crowd of celebrities.

“Classic.” Anna was heading onto the stage in the front of the room and you turned to Harry.

“What’s going on?”

“A super-secret performance.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Yep, but I’m not gonna tell! It’ll ruin the surprise.” You pouted but before you could respond, you were interrupted by Anna’s voice.

“Good evening!” She said into the microphone, and the crowd cheered back at her. “We’ve got someone very special here tonight who will be helping us kick off the rest of the night. So feel free to sing along, dance, really get into it!” Cheers erupted again, so loud that Anna had to pause for almost a full minute before she could continue. “Without further ado, it is my pleasure to welcome Cher!” The curtain behind Anna slid up to reveal Cher facing away from the rest of the room, her band poised on the stage with her. The drummer counted down from four and then the rest of the band came in. Cher stayed turned around until it was time to sing, but when she finally faced the crowd, it was to the loudest cheers of the night.

You turned to Harry in excitement and he held his hand out to you.

“Dance with me?” He yelled over the music and you nodded, taking his hand in yours. He squeezed it softly and it took all of your restraint not to throw yourself at him, instead, you let him guide you, following the gentle tug of his hand closer to him. Right from the start, it felt natural; the way he pulled you in, spinning you under his arm, wrapping his free hand around your waist. His arms were loose around you and he led you around and around in a small circle. You swayed back and forth, letting the music flow through your body, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you were dancing with Harry Styles. Joey was going to freak out when you told her. Suddenly, you were grateful for Anna’s no-phone, no paparazzi rule, you wanted to be the one to tell her, and no doubt if photos were allowed it would be on every fan blog and tabloid website before you even left.

When Cher covered ABBA’s Waterloo, the whole crowd sang along, but you were pretty sure you and Harry were singing the loudest of all. You were jumping up and down, thrashing your head, following Anna’s directions to “really get into it.” Halfway through the song, Harry looped his arm through yours and started an impromptu kick line. Somehow it ended up expanding across the entire dance floor, you turned to your other side and realized that it was Joe Jonas next to you and nearly fainted. Yeah, Joey was going to be so jealous.

Next, she played a slower song, and Harry took your hand again and you swayed together to the beat. The rest of the room melted away until it was just you and Harry (and the musical stylings of Cher). Even when you took a break to catch your breath and get another drink after Cher’s set, you were only vaguely aware that other people existed.

The two of you got tipsier as the night went on and your dancing got sloppier and sillier, too. He spun you around the dance floor over and over again, both of you giggled the whole time.

“Lean back!” He said as one song faded to an end. His hand slid down to your lower back and he bent over slightly as you arched your back, letting him dip you. Blood rushed in your ears as he pulled you back up and immediately spun you around as the next song started. A squeal escaped your lips, followed by a burst of laughter. You couldn’t stop it; it kept bubbling up inside of you until you couldn’t hold it in any longer, and once you opened the floodgates, you couldn’t get them to close again. Harry spun you faster and you laughed harder, closing your eyes and leaning your head back so your hair fanned out around you. He was laughing too and you could feel his chest vibrating against yours as you danced. It filled you with every shade of glittering gold, warm and rich.

When you lifted your head back up, Harry’s hands slid up to your shoulder blades, pulling you closer. You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips and couldn’t stop yourself from staring at his tongue as it poked out to swipe across his bottom lip. Your own breathing was deep and heavy and you were convinced he was leaning in to kiss you, but then the song ended and Anna announced that limos were waiting outside to take everyone back to the hotel. Suddenly, the magic of the night dissipated and you pulled back a little, turning to watch everyone start to file out of the room.

“Guess we should probably…” you said quietly, but you didn’t move.

“Yeah,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “Probably.” The two of you stood there for another minute before Harry finally broke eye contact and let his hands drop to his sides.

You followed him towards the exit, but as you started to head towards the coat check, he grabbed your hand again and pulled you in the opposite direction.

“You can’t miss the photo!” He exclaimed.

“What photo?” You asked, scrunching up your nose in confusion as he opened the door to the women’s restroom to reveal a group of 30 of Hollywood’s most famous young adults arranged in front of the large mirror with none other than Kylie Jenner in the middle. Oh. That photo. You barely had time to react because as soon as Harry stopped on the edge of the group, Kylie was counting down.

“And 3…2…1…smile guys!” She exclaimed. Harry wrapped his arm around you right before she took the picture and the smile on your face in her post the next morning was big and bright.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said after you had gotten your coat and were waiting in line for your cars.

“It was a lot of fun,” he agreed, leaning over to give you one last hug before heading out the door. A few minutes later, you were waved through and got into your own limo.

It felt weird to get into separate cars after spending the whole night with Harry, especially when you were staying at the same hotel. But that’s just how it went at these sorts of events, the press needed to get shots of everyone leaving the party and that took precedence over saving money and gas by just renting a bus or something.

By the time you made it back to your hotel room, it was almost 2 a.m. You were exhausted but too wired to sleep, and after taking off your makeup and changing into sweats, you were pacing across the room. After spending all afternoon getting ready and all night drinking and dancing with the world’s most famous people, it was suddenly over. A strange sort of melancholy set in and you flopped down onto your bed with a deep sigh. This was the part no one told you about when you started acting, the highs you were prepared for, but the lows not so much. Because when the lights turned off, behind all of the glitz and glamor, at the end of the day you were still you, still alone in a hotel room in New York, hundreds of miles away from your family and friends.

Your thoughts wandered to Harry and the night you had spent together, and your anxiety started to ramp up. Had you made a fool of yourself? Did you act like too much of a fangirl? Everyone was probably thinking that you were trying to sleep your way to the top. He probably went straight to that model’s room and they were both laughing at how pathetic you were. A flush rose up your face as you replayed every single thing that had happened at the Met Gala.

Despite one side of you overthinking everything, there was another side holding out hope that any minute he would knock on the door and whisk you away to his castle in the clouds where you would get married and become the cloud princess and live happily ever after eating cotton candy for every meal. Okay, maybe that train of thought got a little out of hand, but it was Harry Styles and no matter how famous you got, you would always be the middle-school girl with a One Direction poster in her locker at heart.

When someone actually did knock on your door, you thought you were imagining it at first. But they knocked again and you realized it was real. Probably housekeeping, you thought to yourself as you got up. You opened the door and came face-to-face with Harry, who was wearing gray sweatpants and a black Gucci hoodie.

“Hey,” he said, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. “Wanna grab some pizza? I’m bloody starving.”

Maybe you’d get to be the cloud princess, after all.

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[theolsentimes]

Mary-Kate Olsen's Singular Style

She came to fame as a twin, but the actress's cultish look is entirely her own. Here, with Lauren Hutton, she pays homage to another fashion inspiration, Grey Gardens. Written by Laura Brown, with photography by Peter Lindbergh (Harper's Bazaar, 2007)

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Mary-Kate Olsen may be the only young actress who breezes into her local Starbucks wearing towering, fashion-fierce Balenciaga boots, who arrives at her latest premiere (in Mary-Kate's case, for the new season of Showtime's Weeds, in which she plays a devout Christian with a pot fetish) sporting an oversize cross, and whose favorite band is Led Zeppelin. She may, in fact, be the only young actress who knows who Led Zeppelin is. MK, as she is known to her friends and family, is also a punctual and professional sort. She arrives for a poolside tea in Los Angeles 10 minutes early, ordering a hot chocolate while explaining her fetish for all things sweet — "I'm a candy girl, like Tootsie Rolls and Swedish Fish" — and objecting when the waiter tries to take the sugar bowl away. She is wearing a nautical striped T-shirt (her mom's, from the '70s), tucked into two black Wolford slips rolled down and turned into a tight, Robert-Palmer-video-style mini, and multicolored sparkly Christian Louboutin stilettos. She's just had her hair colored, returning to a sunnier shade after some experiments with both peroxide ("I woke up one morning and was like, I want white-trash hair today") and the dark side (an auburn-haired near-Goth moment last year). She's carrying a large black fringed leather Prada tote — she doesn't do small bags — and her fingers are covered with rings, most notably two vintage coiled gold snakes stacked on top of each other. ("They remind me of twins, sort of double headed.") Altogether, the effect is less her famed "bag-lady chic" than an edgy, body-conscious, and, yes, sexy silhouette. If she weren't 21, she could be 40. And French.

Few people need reminding that Mary-Kate — with her twin sister, Ashley — literally crawled into celebrity aged nine months (courtesy of Full House) and has not been out of the spotlight ever since. She has been a celebrity for more than two decades. Perhaps that's one reason she seems as if she came out of the womb worldly, the textbook old soul. "Yeah," she says with a small shrug. "I get that a lot." With all of that attention and all of the money (her and Ashley's company, Dualstar, has famously become a "billion-dollar business"), Mary-Kate could easily have ended up the type who wears pink terry cloth and carries a variety of small dogs. "Could you imagine?" she says with the politest version of a snort. "No way." She credits her exceptionally close-knit family (she has five siblings) and, interestingly, early stardom with helping her keep her perspective. "I think it helped that I started in front of the camera, so it didn't come as a shock. If I was a teenager and was thrown into the spotlight, I don't know how I would react, to be honest." Though the tabloids are all too keen to brand her a skinny, nervous deer in the headlights, in person Mary-Kate is easy in her skin, confident and surprisingly tactile, curling up in her seat and touching you on the arm to make a point. She laments the generic style of most actresses and cites only men as style inspirations: "Heath Ledger, Johnny Depp. Men, they just dress the way they want, and they don't think about Who Wore It Best." She doesn't much care for Who Wore It Best, noting she avoids those pages by "wearing vintage so often. I just dress the way I feel instead of looking for what's the new handbag." If Mary-Kate and Ashley have their way, more people will be wearing clothes and carrying bags the way they do. They have just shown the fifth collection of their ready-to-wear line, the Row, and recently launched a contemporary label, Elizabeth and James, named after a sister and a brother. The Row's holiday collection (in stores next month) is a slick mix of skinny leather pants, razor-cut blazers, butter-soft, slouchy tees, and a destined-to-be-cultish pullover fur. Lauren Hutton, who stars in the Row's Spring '08 look book, says, "The clothes are extraordinary. A man I was with just loved them. The pieces are just so genius, soft like a baby's skin. Simple minimalist stuff, but really spectacular." Mary-Kate, designer, faces an interesting challenge. She has to marry Dualstar — which has made its fortune selling tween-tastic DVDs and pastel Mary-Kate and Ashley T-shirts at Wal-Mart — with her increasingly edgy and subversive taste. Dualstar executives, some of whom have worked with her since she was a child, often nag her, mom-style, about pulling her hair back "or wearing a color," she says with a laugh. "I had this event recently, and I was like, They're going to be so happy that I'm wearing ... purple. I actually have to think about those things, though, you know, so I don't get trashed." Get trashed sometimes she does. Hutton says, "Once in a while, she'll wear something and I'll think, Oh, baby doll, take another look. But to have the bravery, to take the chance to do that, is pretty wonderful. She is making her own way, which is hardly ever done in Hollywood." Of Mary-Kate's penchant for gigantic Balenciaga heels, Jenji Kohan, the creator of Weeds, says, laughing, "I'd be like, 'It's Tuesday. Do you really want to be wearing those shoes?' But she pulls it off." Designer Giambattista Valli, a friend, says, "She likes to take risks, but because she has such strong personal style, she always manages to make it work. Even if she had nothing on, she'd have style." And MK chic is spreading. "Sometimes I'll look at people or at a magazine and I'll do a double take because I'm like, Oh, my God, that's my outfit, but that's not me," Mary-Kate says. Playing with her wire-rimmed aviators, she jokes wryly that she should have bought shares in Ray-Ban. (She and Chloë Sevigny pretty much brought back white '80s Wayfarers.) She tends to fall in love with a look, then wear it until she's done. "If I put together a good outfit, I'll wear it for three days and then switch it up with a blazer," she says. "I still love my vintage jeans, my tights, and my pants, though." She didn't start wearing heels, in fact, until a couple of years ago: "I kept watching Ashley walk around in them so gracefully, and I'm such a klutz. But I ended up loving heels, and I don't usually take them off." She wears precisely one pair of flat shoes: Chanel's knee-high patent-leather gladiator sandals. This season, it's Balenciaga's fall collection — all of it — that has Mary-Kate obsessed. She is close to designer Nicolas Ghesquière and says, "He is so talented, but he's the nicest, most down-to-earth guy, and that makes everything he does more brilliant. I bought everything, but I haven't got anything yet," she says like a girl impatiently waiting for Christmas. Will she wear the new pieces with her infamous clodhopper boots? "Uh-huh. Wore them the other day, actually." Mary-Kate always goes with her gut, even if some people (back to those tabloids) don't quite get it. "The tabloids say things about me? What do they say?" she asks archly. "People are going to write what they want, and everyone's going to have their own idea of who I am. But I'm not trying to be friends with the people who are reading them, really." After a rough couple of years filled with near-forensic scrutiny of her weight, she'll have you know that she does eat. "This is not going to sound good," she laughs, "but I like making crispy tofu sticks with peanut sauce. I love my sashimi and my salmon and my vegetables." She observes, "Stress plays a big role in how I look day-to-day. I've always been very active — Pilates, yoga. I grew up horseback riding every day for hours. I love dancing. I usually last longer than anyone on the dance floor." A common image of Mary-Kate has her emerging from a coffee joint with an oversize cup. "I always get creamed for having my Starbucks cup," she says, sighing. "But the only time people get photos of me is when I'm getting coffee, when I can't sneak away from the camera." She also resents the pictorial implication that she and Ashley are dilettantes. "They take photos of us going into our offices, and it's 'Mary-Kate and Ashley shopping again.' But I'm going to work for eight hours, and we're working so hard. ..." She trails off. "It just shows how people want to think of you." Mary-Kate is not above celeb watching herself, however. Newly obsessed with Victoria Beckham, she notes she avidly watched Beckham's Coming to America documentary: "She's running around in a bikini and heels, and I'm like, Oh, my God! I do that, too!" How positively Grey Gardens. "I run around my house naked with heels all the time. It's so funny. All my friends will tell you I love running around in kimonos and jewelry or naked with jewelry." More people will be watching Mary-Kate soon, thanks to her role in the Emmy-nominated Weeds. "I am a very good Christian girl," she says with a wink. "She has her moral beliefs — and she happens to smoke pot." Of her newest cast member, Kohan adds, "Mary-Kate is complicated. She's a big celebrity, a huge media icon, but you have to separate the media images from someone who has the same issues, the same desires, as anyone else." Of course, Mary-Kate's image, in all its incarnations — from high fashion to small screen — is her strongest asset. And she has yet to settle on one. "I feel like I've lived 10 different lives already and I'm only 21," she says, almost as a reminder to herself. "But I also feel like I'm entering a new chapter." One thing on which she is clear, though: She doesn't need to be looked at all the time. What would she do for a day if she were invisible? "I would probably go to a restaurant with my friends, who would be able to see me, of course," she adds pragmatically, "and I would sit outside and enjoy a nice lunch with them. Then I would walk down the street." The old soul takes a sip of her little-girl-sweet hot chocolate. "That's what I would do."

#Mary Kate Olsen #mary kate and ashley #Ashley Olsen #harper's bazaar #magazines #articles #photoshoot

[forgottenyogurtgods]

no body, no crime

by forgottenyogurtgods

Summary: [I think he did it but I just can’t prove it. No, no body, no crime But I ain’t letting up until the day I die.] 

Adrien is a Swiftie. To be fair, who isn’t? And her Evermore album? Chef’s kiss! Except… one song put an idea in his head and now he can’t get it out. 

Inspired by this tumblr post.

Chapter 1/?

Episode One

Hi, my name’s Adrien Agreste!

Wait, no. That is a terrible way to start this. Okay, umm…

My mom disappeared when I was— 

No, that’s still really bad. Ugh, why is this so hard?

Okay, uh, I’m just going to go with what feels right. This is probably going to go… yeah.

This is Emilie Agreste. She was a model, an actress, a philanthropist, a pianist, a wife, and my… my mother.

She was the kind of person everyone wanted to be around. Someone who was just nice for the sake of being nice. She gave more than she had and always, always took her time to check on other people. 

I grew up admiring her, wanting to be exactly like her. Because that’s the kind of person everyone should want to be! She just… she made you want to be that way.

And then, two years ago, she just… vanished.

It was a whole thing. My dad and the media and the whole world were involved, and I was. I was caught right in the middle of it.

Her car was found abandoned outside of Paris. Her keys in the ignition. Her wallet and phone in the glove compartment. Her favorite pair of stilettos tucked under the passenger seat. The dress she was going to wear was lying on the back seat.

We were supposed to go out to dinner, just me and her, the night she disappeared.

It was a tradition we did once a month. A mother and son night.

We’d get all dressed up — hair, clothing, shoes, everything — and just go out to eat.

She used to say that those were her favorite days of the month. Everything else was scheduled around those days. They had to be. She made sure that we would, at the very least, have that day.

It’s not like I never saw her or anything, but she was busy. She took time off from acting and modeling when I was younger to be with me, but when I was old enough, she put herself back in the spotlight.

All of that made it difficult for her to be my mom. And we all hated it — my mom, my father, and me. So, my mom set up date nights. Our guaranteed night to spend time with her.

We’d see her outside of this, but it wasn’t the quality time she wanted and we needed, and it just… it sucked.

By now, if you haven’t really guessed, I’m not exactly normal. In more ways than one. 

With my mom being who she was and my father being a fashion designer who has his own fashion house. They met when she was hired to model for another fashion house, back when he was still in school. 

It was her most iconic photo shoot. 

She wore this haute couture piece in the middle of a rainy scene. There were puddles everywhere and there was a rain machine.

My father was in charge of keeping the photographer dry and handing out towels and getting coffee. He ended up slipping in one of the puddles and, yeah.

My mom says that’s when he fell for her, my father said that she fell for him first.

So, date night. 

I remember getting ready to go. My father hired a stylist, Nathalie who became his assistant after my mom disappeared, to help me. She was kind of new to her job at the time and was asked to keep me busy while I waited for my mom.

We were talking about the latest Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series when the police arrived.

I remember being told that her car had been found and she was missing, but that there was a possibility that she was still alive.

And then days passed. And weeks. And then months. And there was no sign of her.

And then she was declared dead.

We had a funeral for her.

Her coffin was buried empty.

The reason she went missing wasn’t uncovered by the police.

Her case remains open.

And the clues pointing to what happened to her couldn’t be connected.

Until recently, that is.

This podcast docu-series is about me finding out what happened to my mom and proving to the world that my father killed her.

Also available on

[Ao3]

[FanFiction.Net]

[Wattpad]

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #mlb fanfic #mlb no body no crime

[tastingmellow]

A scandal with congress Chris Evans. The public thinks he cheating on his wife (poc) but him and his wife is just trying to keep things spicy between them so she cos plays a lot.

Ooooh, I don’t write for the actual people so I’m gonna use Steve, hope that’s alright! But I love this idea!

———————

Bucky’s nose flared at the article that was sent to his office. “What the fuck...” he grunted out while he stomped his way towards Steve’s office. Steve was currently looking over a bill that would make it easier for law enforcement to be prosecuted for a crime. Bucky knew Steve probably wanted as much peace as possible but this was some shit that needed to be addressed, immediately.

As Bucky neared Steve’s office he saw you coming into view. The quick clacking of your stilettos slowed as you came to a stop, noticing Bucky’s face being a little too bright red. “You alright there, Buck?” You ask, your hand coming to rest on his forehead. Bucky sighed and pulled you into a hug, tightly squeezing you.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you awkwardly patted his back as he released you. You were just as close to Bucky as Steve was. When you and Steve had met through college it had been through Bucky whom you’d met through a frat party when he collapsed on your shoulder on the couch and wouldn’t budge until morning. It wasn’t a stretch to say you were nearly as much as a best friend as Steve. Which is why he was so angry.

“Come with me, Y/N. You really need to hear this.” He spoke as he tugged open the large oak doors to Steve’s office. Just as you suspected, Steve sat in his chair looking over multiple documents while soft jazz played in the background. You followed Bucky inside, still very confused.

“Steve, is there something you want to tell your wife.” Bucky spoke, anger and tension evident in his posture. Your eyes flickered to Steve as he looked up at you. His eyes raked over your attire before meeting your eyes again. “Love the new dress, honey.” You smiled and walked over, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, baby.” You giggles as he pulled you into his lap. You crossed your legs as Bucky huffed, adjusting his stance before slamming the magazine down in front of you and your husband. Your head tilted to the side as you picked up the article. In big, bold letters it read “Congressman Rogers Spotted with Mystery Woman Outside of Ritz Carlton.”

You blinked at the title, your eyes falling to said mystery woman. You squinted slightly before bursting out into laughter. You showed Steve the article and he laughed loudly. Bucky stared at the two of you, mouth agape.

“Oh, Bucky. Sit.” You said, still giggling at the article.

—————————

“Congressman Rogers! Would you care to comment on the recent photos of you spotted with a woman that’s clearly not your wife?” A reporter called out amongst the chaos of flashing cameras and others calling out his name. Steve glanced up while the crowd fell quiet. You stood off to the side, a smirk on your lips as you tried your hardest not to giggle.

Steve playfully glared at you before looking back to the reporter. “I would like to. Let the record show that I’ve never and will never step out of my marriage and cheat on my wife. I’m happily married to the love of my life, a wonderful woman who loves me as Steve. Not as Congressman Rogers. I will never disrespect her or our bond. She is everything I have ever wished for and more.”

Your eyes softened as you stared at the man in front of you. His hand slowly extended towards you and you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his. He placed a gentle peck on your lips then your forehead before turning back to the crowd.

“If that is true Congressman, what explanation do you have for those photos?” Inquired another reporter.

“Congressman Rogers and I enjoy keeping things fresh in our marriage. We take risks and we try new things.” You spoke confidently as the crowd murmured.

“Mrs. Rogers, are you implying that you and your husband let others into your...bedroom?” A young man spoke out, tentative but blunt.

“No, I’m simply telling you that we try new things. Sometimes those things include giving into your fantasies and being someone else. However, please do not let that distract you from the crisis that is black people dying or being abused by those with a badge. Congressman Rogers and I have been working to bring justice to the most recent victims of police brutality while also shedding light on the police reform that needs to happen. Do not let gossip distract you from the true issue in this country. Racism and the abuse of power.” You smile to yourself as the crowd becomes restless, people throwing out questions and the flashing of cameras becoming more rapid. “I think my wife said it beautifully, this concludes our conference. Enjoy your evenings and thank you for your time.” Steve slowly ushered you down the steps of the podium and back into your home.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” You giggles to yourself while Steve pulled you closer to him. “I do, think that gave them enough. Probably gonna be all over Twitter before the day’s out.” Steve spoke and you chuckled as you made your way into your room.

——————

Sure enough, about 2 hours later “Congressman Rogers” was trending on Twitter. Clips of the press conference, specifically you addressing the pictures, spread like wildfire. You were on gossip websites within the hour, news outlets were covering it.

People were losing their minds over it.

“MinnieMarsh1: Not only did Y/N Rogers tell y’all she a freak, she told y’all to focus. No choice but to Stan. Iconic.”

“therogersstanaccount: Love how Rogers let his wife address the photos. Also, I told y’all they were ‘adventurous’.”

“queendom34: I bet money Y/N is the top. You can’t convince me otherwise.”

“smokingtree: She’s a woke freak and he’s standing with her to fight racism. The only political couple I fw.”

You glanced at the tv In front of you, chuckling at the clip of you speaking on you and your husband’s endeavors. Strong arms wrapped around your chest and you sighed, melting into him. “Well, looks like you started something serious.”

You giggled, biting your lip as Steve grabbed your chin, slowly turning your head before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You sighed gently as his tongue slid over your bottom lip. Your lips parted, allowing him in as you deepened the kiss. Steve slowly pulled away as you bit your lip. “You’re a demon, I swear.”

You laughed at his comment. “Well, in that case...trying leather tonight?” Steve groaned, biting his lip as you stood from the couch, dragging him back to your shared room for a long, loud night.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #Bold’s Fics

[rawiswhore]

Brian Pillman/Dean Ambrose x Fem Reader- “We Want Some Pussy”

The reason I titled this fanfic Brian Pillman/Dean Ambrose is because when you read it, you can imagine either Brian or Dean in this fanfic.

Though, I bet the majority of the readers are all gonna choose Dean...

________________________________________________________________

One of Brian Pillman's slight signatures is sticking his tongue out occasionally, he even sticks his tongue out in his titantron.

Speaking of occasionally, why I said it's one of his slight signatures is because he mostly stuck his tongue out once in a blue moon.

And seeing him stick his tongue out as well as act like a maniac...does it remind you of something?

No, not Gene Simmons, Michael Jordan or even Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion and Miley Cyrus in 2013, but...something else...

If you want Dean Ambrose (and I bet the majority of people reading this fic want Dean even more, and I will admit, Dean is hotter than Brian...)...

There's a certain wrestler who's joined the WWE that's giving the company a little bit of edge, especially during a time when it's rated PG and has banned blood, chair shots, and occasionally cursing.

He even always gets brought up in discussions of "modern WWE stars who would be awesome in the WWF's Attitude era": the most violent, savage and downright shocking era the WWF/E has ever had by far.

Who is he?

Dean Ambrose!

Dean's nickname is the Lunatic Fringe, and he's been compared to Attitude era icons like Mick Foley and Brian Pillman (if you consider the latter to be a part of the Attitude era), and those 2 aforementioned wrestlers were notorious for playing mentally unstable madmen.

One of Dean's signatures he uses to add to his nutcase character is sticking his tongue out, which is a massive favorite for his fangirls.

Does him sticking his tongue out give you any ideas?

Brian has been a part of WCW and ECW, now he's signed a contract with the WWF: the most famous pro wrestling company in the world and still is today.

You're so glad and happy he's now a part of the WWF and he's bringing something new to the table, he's helping add some edge to the company during a time where it's still cartoonish, childish, aimed at kids and even rated PG.

At the end of 1996, when a "Monday Night Raw" episode was over and you were next in the line of ringrats to bang him outside of his motel room, you've told him you've seen him occasionally stick his tongue out and how it makes you think of something, he can obviously guess what it makes him think of that isn't Gene Simmons or Michael Jordan.

When Dean was at the height of his popularity in the WWE, circa 2015, before he grew a beard, when a "Monday Night Raw" episode was over and Dean was chatting with some ringrats, you approached him and told him how him sticking his tongue out gives you an idea and reminds you of something, and it ain't Gene Simmons, Michael Jordan or Miley Cyrus.

He guessed what it could be, and when he got your guess, you nodded your head, grinning from ear to ear, which made him smile as well.

When you had entered the motel room and closed the door behind you, you walked up to the bed and slid your feet out of your stilettos.

As you approached this bed, you pulled your miniskirt down, revealing you wearing any underwear on underneath, and had a seat on the bed, spreading your legs wide open.

You told him what you wanted him to do to you, he figured he wants you to do this.

Dean, however, invited you to his hotel room, the room reserved for the two of you, and you slid your feet out of your stilettos out of your heels, he helping you undress until you were stark naked, not a single stitch of clothes on your body.

You laid down on top of the comforter on the bed, not even bothering to slide under the covers.

Once you were sprawled on the bed with your legs wide open in front of him, Brian/Dean crawled on all fours into that bed in between your legs, crawling on top of the comforters you were sitting on.

When his face was close enough to your pussy, he let his tongue loll out of his mouth, you moved your hand to his head, lacing your fingers through his hair, and pulled him into your twat.

He buried his face in your cunt and let his tongue ravish and indulge in your vagina.

His tongue was zigzagging up and down your pussy, going just about everywhere, he probably barely tastes how salty your cunt tastes.

Before he started eating your pussy out, you told him you wanted him to eat your pussy out like he plays his Loose Cannon/Lunatic Fringe character in the WWF/E, you wanted him to basically play his Loose Cannon/Lunatic Fringe character while he's eating your twat.

Brian isn't that much different from his madman character he plays in the WWF.

Brian/Dean figured you want him to play their character while he eats your pussy, women love crazy bad boys who are hard to tame.

His tongue is lubricating your pussy, licking up your pussy juices, his tongue sliding all over your cunt, barely touching your clitoris.

He's eating your twat out like some redneck at a pie eating contest, like a starving, hungry animal that hasn't eaten in months.

Brian has such greasy, unwashed hair, your fingers are even getting greasy from being laced through his locks, but he surprisingly looks hot with his signature unwashed hair.

His tongue's licking up and down your pussy like it's a Popsicle.

As he's eating your twat out, you told him you want him to lick your clit, the most sensitive part of a woman's body.

He knows where the clitoris is, many ringrats have told him to lick and suck them there.

His tongue took a breath from licking all over your pussy and instead is now focusing just on licking your clit, such a small but sensitive part of your body.

His tongue is sliding up and over your clit, in between your clitoral hood.

His tongue is furiously licking your clitoris, sometimes he's leaning his face even further into your pussy.

His face is so buried in your twat, your vaginal flaps are touching his face.

While he's tonguing your clitoris, your head is leaning back and relaxing on a pillow, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your mouth dropping a bit while he's eating you out.

He's driving you insane while he licks your clit, chills are running down your spine as he's doing it.

"Ohhhhhh God, Brian/Dean!!!" you moaned and cried, sounding breathy. "Lick my clit!!"

Meanwhile, throughout Brian giving you cunnilingus, his facial stubble is chafing your crotch, his facial hair slightly penetrating your skin, though it doesn't bother you that much.

One thing Brian has also done occasionally is spit at people, and since he's known for playing a ticking timebomb in any wrestling company, he salivated a bit on your cunt, making and wetting his tongue with saliva, only to drip that saliva on your twat.

Your fingers are grabbing onto Brian/Dean's hair, gripping his hair, but not too hard.

Your other hand, meanwhile, is gripping onto the bedsheets while he eats you out, the bedsheets locked in your fingers and palm of your hand.

Your clit has blood rushing to it thanks to Brian/Dean lying in between your legs and eating you out, that blood is filling your clitoris up, making it stand out.

Yes, women can have erections too.

Sometimes, Dean/Brian isn't just licking your clit, but sucking on it too, wrapping their lips around your clitoris and sucking your clit like it's your nipple.

"Press your tongue on my clit!" you ordered him to do, you've pressed your clit a few times and were surprised how good it feels.

He followed your command, pressing his tongue on your clit, his tongue feeling a little bump under your clitoris.

Your pussy feels like it's getting wetter while he's eating you out, pretty soon, he's gonna have eaten more to eat and clean up.

His tongue slid up your clitoris, licking up and down your clit under your clitoral hood, his tongue is feeling raw and tired from furiously licking your cunt.

He placed his hands on both of your thighs and started to caress them up and down, maybe this will make you cum pretty soon.

His touch gave you tingles on your thighs when he caressed them.

His tongue was stroking your clit, licking up and down like a paintbrush painting a picket fence.

While you love him licking your clitoris, you want his tongue to lick your entire pussy, and even though you love his tongue zigzagging all over your twat, you also wouldn't mind it if his tongue was caressing your pussy slowly, carefully and gently, not tearing it up.

Maybe you will tell him to do that.

Should you ask him to take a break from licking your clit and eat your pussy out instead?

Hmmmm....

Though, he licking your clit will probably make you cum pretty soon.

He's growing a little tired of licking your clitoris and would like to let his tongue lick your pussy instead.

Another temptation you're thinking of is putting your nipples in between the pads of your index fingers and thumbs so you can tweak them, which would give you more sexual pleasure and maybe even make you cum.

You moved your hands to your nipples, placing your nipples in between the pads of your index fingers and thumbs, where you carefully tweaked your nipples, turning and twisting them.

You didn't just tweak them, but squeezed your nipples a bit too.

Endorphins were running through your nipples were you pleasured them, maybe next time he can lick your nipples.

"Ohhhhhh yeaaaaaaahhhh" you moaned, sounding breathy "Mmmmmmmmmmmm"

You bit your lower lip while he was eating your twat out, and he wants to ask you this question.

He lifted his head up and his eyes looked at you.

"Hey y/n" he said, which made you lift your head up from the pillow and open your eyes, looking at him.

"I'm getting bored of licking your clit" he confessed "Can I eat your pussy out?"

"When I cum" you replied, grinning evilly from ear to ear, and let your head lay on the pillow and closed your eyes, endulging yourself in this moment.

Brian/Dean continued to flick his tongue on your clit, licking not just your clitoris, but clitoral hood.

He licked your clit up and down like it was a Popsicle, his tongue literally zigzagging on your clitoris and clitoral hood, shifting from left to right.

He's heard of "writing" letters of the alphabet with the tip of his tongue, and he even tried doing that as well, letting the tip of his tongue slide up your clit to the left side, then swerve across the top of your clit, only to drop down, then make his tongue lick a line across your clit, his tongue making an "A" shape.

Strange, but whatever.

You weren't faking your orgasm when he was eating your twat out, he was building you up for an orgasm, you felt like you were getting higher and higher while he was licking your clit.

You're really afraid people next door are going to hear your moans while he's performing cunnilingus on you.

"Just lick my clit, Daddy!" you cried out, and you exclaiming that indicates you might be having...an incestuous and even pedophilic relationship with your father.

But no.

Your pussy was getting wetter and wetter while his tongue tickled your clit, you could feel your pussy flaps want to release something from their pores.

And lo and behold, you let out a very throaty cry, your pussy hole officially creamed, your clit pounding like a heartbeat.

He heard that cry, he could even feel a bit of your cum on his face.

Mmmmm, now there's some more pussy juice for him to eat!

His tongue moved from your clit to your twat hole, where he licked up that cum leaking out of your cunt, sometimes even sucking the cum up out of your pussy hole.

You taste so salty but so good, he could eat your pussy all day, and that's what he did until there really was no more of your cum seeping out of your vaginal hole.

________________________________________________________________

Dean Ambrose tumblr fangirls, do you know how Brian Pillman is?

You probably even know who Brian is thanks to Dean getting comparisons to him, plus, Dean's now over in AEW as Jon Moxley, and Brian's son is in AEW as well.

Do you Ambrose fangirls think Brian is hot/sexy?

Believe it or not, I actually do, especially Brian in October of 1996...

#brian pillman #dean ambrose #wwf #wwe #90s #1996 #2015 #2010s #10s #fanfiction

[purplesurveys]

816

Gonna do a before and after of one of the first surveys I took when I was FOURTEEN. Fucking wild that I’ve been doing this for nearly a decade. Kinda my way of celebrating the fact that I’ve just been reunited with my old blog, which Tumblr has apparently changed the URL of. Baffled by the move but still stoked, and @a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse​ is absolutely the coolest person for being able to find it haha. Let’s gooooo 1. Are you registered to vote? No. I still have 3 years to go. < That’s so precious. I’ve been a voter for four years now. I registered the second I turned 18 and I remember being very excited to make it to the presidential elections because only a handful of people from my high school batch were 18 by the time of the elections. 2. When days go by, do you cross them off on the calendar? Only when I’m counting down for something. < This still sounds like something I would do, but I don’t really get to anymore because I have digital calendars on my phone and laptop now. 3. Are you currently counting down to something? If so, what? Summer vacation! 4 days left! < Again, so cute. There’s no countdown that exists because I honestly don’t know when it will be okay enough to go out like normal again, but I am waiting for Covid to go away or at least for a vaccine to be available.

No #4? 5. Ever got injured at work? What happened? Nope. < I sprained my ankle at one of the parking lots in school, while walking to my car. Worst thing was it happened in front of an ongoing rally, and I heard their chants slightly falter when they saw me fall. I tried to play it cool, but my foot clearly felt fucked and someone had to hold my arm as I hopped to my car.

6. What color is your roof? Brown. < Stop pretending like you have a roof, Robyn. The house has always had a rooftop.

7. Do you use MySpace or Facebook more? Neither. < I was still far too young when MySpace peaked so I never did get to participate in its glory days. I definitely use Facebook a lot more, then and now. 8. Last time you sharpened a pencil? When I took a diagnostic test last Monday. < Sometime in 2019 when I was still heavily into coloring and I bought several coloring books and a pack of coloring pencils. I loved coloring and wish I kept it up, but it was just a bit of a hassle for me to sharpen every ten minutes or so. 9. List all the people in your phone under T: Zero, zilch, nada. No phone. < A high school batchmade named Dani, a college colleague named Kate, and a couple of aunts and uncles whose contacts start with Tito and Tita.  10. How old were you when you got into text messaging? I once had a super obsessive text problem when I was 11, I think? < That would be the first time I got hooked with texting, but I got my first phone when I was 7 and was already texting by then. Mostly my parents and grandpa, but still. 11. Do you pay rent to your parents? No. < No. They’ve already told me they won’t pressure me to do so either, but out of gratefulness for taking care of me for 20+ years I have absolutely no problems covering some of the bills when the time comes. 12. What do you think of Obama’s new healthcare bill? I don’t know a lot about it. < Honestly, still same. That’s another country’s politics altogether and we have enough issues in our own nation as it is. I do pay attention to US issues that are more universal like LGBT issues, police brutality against black people, Trump as a person...but not the more in-depth ones like healthcare or student debt. 13. How many icons are on your desktop? 34. < Exactly half of that. 14. Do you spit or swallow? Get outta here!!! < Still can’t relate. 15. Ever wrote something on a bathroom wall? Nope. < Eugh no, public bathrooms are so nasty. I don’t usually touch anything in them other than the faucet. I’ve written on other things though, like the desks in school. 16. What’s your definition of a slut? Uh. < Someone who often has casual sex with a lot of people, is how I understand it. 17. If you use the word “slut”, do you apply it to men who do the same thing as what you listed above? Nah. < I don’t really use the word. 18. Do you dye eggs for Easter? I did once, in a children’s party. < Yeah, just that one time at my second cousins’ place when they were in the mood to paint on eggs and invited me and my siblings. 19. What did you do on the first day of spring? Never experienced spring. < We don’t have spring. 23. Are you currently crushing on anyone? No. < Yes. 24. What color hair did the last person you kissed have? NKSB. < LOOOOOOOOOL I spent like two minutes puzzling over this like who tf is NKSB??? Eventually realized this just meant ‘Never Kissed Since Birth’ oh my god 14 year old Robyn you were SO uncool. Anyway, her hair is black. 25. Do you stand up to say the pledge in school? We don’t have a school pledge, but we do recite our country’s pledge and yes, we stand up every time we say it. < Not anymore in university. Everyone just kinda does their own thing in college and we’re never gathered as one student body for anything, except for graduation. 26. Do you like your eye color? God no. It’s so boring. < I mean yeah it is a bit boring, but we kinda have no choice. Unless you go to West Asia which is nearing Europe as it is, nearly all Asians have brown eyes and black hair. 27. What brand of orange juice did you last drink? Zesto. < That’s the only brand of orange juice I’m okay with drinking, even eight years later. 28. Pens or pencils? Pens. < Still feel the same. 29. Last skirt you wore and why? My school skirt, because I have to go to school. < Omfg again, this is so precious. The last one I wore was my denim skirt, but it’s also been a while since I wore that because one of its buttons has since popped out and I never got around to having it fixed, leaving me with no skirts. 30. Last time you wore heels, what kind were they? A prom I went to. I actually have no idea what kind of heels they are so I’m just gonna say old-women heels. < They were stilettos, you dumbass. I also wore a pair of stilettos the last time I wore heels. They’re my favorite kind, so. 31. Shoes you wear the most? My Keds. < My pair of Onitsuka Tiger sneakers. . 32. Favorite quote at the moment? “YOU DUMB BITCH! I’M NOT HOLDING A MICROPHONE! ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?” - CM Punk < Holy crap, I do not remember this quote at all and had to look it up on YouTube and – no regrets. Watching it made so many memories come rushing back lmao that clip is hilarious; Punk is the greatest. Right now I don’t really have a favorite quote. 33. What was the last magazine article you read about? I forgot. < It’s from the website version of the magazine, but the last article I read covered a viral Facebook post wherein someone had photoshopped the faces of The Big Bang Theory boys onto the traditional graduation photos of my university out of boredom. Article is here for anyone who wants to see how well the pictures turned out lol. 34. What do you think about communism? I don’t know enough about it. < I completely support the progressive youth orgs, especially the ones in my university, that are aligned with communist, socialist, and Marxist ideals. They speak the truth more than any other orgs, so I don’t shy away from defending them or promoting their ideals, especially on social media, even if it puts me in danger. 35. Are you planning on going to college? If so, which one? Of course. I want to study in Ateneo. < CAN WE CANCEL 14 YEAR OLD ROBYN?????? What a disappointment omg. You were always meant to be in UP, you weirdo. 22 year old me takes that appalling statement back lol I can’t even begin to imagine spending my college years in Ateneo. 36. What’s your favorite flower? Ugh I hate flowers. < Peonies and roses. 37. What’s the nearest beach? I think it’s like…600 km away + a 2 hour boat ride. < No it is not. There’s a beach I come back to in Nasugbu and that’s only 100 km away. 38. Ever been to Florida? Nope. < Still nope. 39. How old is your brother’s best friend? He’s probably 9 as my brother’s 9. < I don’t know if he has one and I don’t really care anymore. 40. What type of car did you ride in last? A Kia van. < Sksksksks this was referring to the school bus I used to ride omg :( I was last in our Vitara, when I had to go to the hospital to get some tests done back when I still had a pesky fever. 42. Are you excited for summer 2013? Fuck yeah. < I honestly don’t remember how it ultimately went, but apparently I was excited for it so that answers the question. 43. What class were your parents (ex. class of ‘75)? They’re the same age so batch ‘89. < There we go. 44. Are you in debt right now? For what? No. < Kinda-ish? I promised my sister I’d pay her for helping me out with iMovie (I wanted to make Gab a video for her birthday, but had never done it before), but I haven’t had the chance to do it since I only have big bills at the moment. She’s asking for ₱200 but I only have ₱1000s in my wallet, so I can’t pay her for now. 45. If you’re old enough, do you have a credit card? If you’re not old enough, do you want one when you’re older? I definitely want one. < Yep, still want one. Though I’ll need a crash course on how to use it because my parents never really taught me how cards work. 46. What color is your phone? No phone. < Apple calls it space gray but it’s really just black. 47. Have you ever had someone read a text message they weren’t supposed to see? Yes. < Yes. That person was me, and I accidentally read a text from my dad meant for only my mom when I was 5 because I had stubborn fingers that would click on anything. 48. What’s the minimum age you think someone should have a cell phone at? 10. < Holy cow, that’s a nope for me. I’d say 12 or 13. 49. Would you ever work night crew? Sure. < Yes. I’ve seen my girlfriend’s mom do it and honestly I find it pretty badass, especially because while everyone is stuck in traffic trying to get to work by 9 AM, she’s cruising down the highway on the opposite lane with no problem, to be home by 9 hahaha. 50. How old is the last person you texted? 41. < 22.

#survey #surveys

[tsunflowers]

no one asked or cares but I did finally match songs to all my idol ocs so I will be sharing those with you

basically they are inspired by underrated (? maybe not) idol anime akb0048, I never gave them a unit name and just refer to them as “space idols.” officially they travel between planets and space stations performing concerts but secretly they also smuggle items and information into areas that have harsh governments. all their names are stage names/codenames so I haven’t thought about surnames for them. also I didn’t draw these I made them in a dollmaker

ako - accha koccha game (idol time pripara)

ako’s a dancer who puts on really energetic performances with a lot of audience interaction. I think her voice is probably a little less cute than nino’s but the energy of this performances matches the energy I imagine for ako. ako’s one of the original members of the group and was chosen for her heartwarming backstory of growing up on an impoverished planet rather than a specific skill that would aid in their secret espionage mission. she’s very engaged with fans and usually wears a handmade item from a fan in every performance. she’s part of the main trio with hime and yuki

izumi - identity (aikatsu friends)

izumi was really hard for me to place bc she has more of an adult image than most anime idols but is also quirky and silly. so I went with the quirky image for her and matched her to mirai’s song about how it’s good to be weird. I hate the outfit in this performance and it doesn’t suit izumi anyway but the vocals and dance are good. izumi joined the group in the second wave once the main trio had gotten some popularity and while she’s a great singer and looks good in everything she is also an engineer who specializes in a) robots and b) breaking into places. she’s a trans woman with cool big sis energy and is dating hikari. the two of them are in robo trio along with ayame

hikari - cutie breakin’ (prichan)

cutie breakin’ was the first boyish idol song that came to mind and it suits hikari bc their specialty is dance. I can’t see them wearing a joutfit like suzu does though. they joined in the second wave as a hacker and intended to stay offstage as much as possible but they came to really enjoy dance to their surprise. the idol image isn’t really for them so they tend to look annoyed when dolled up for concerts and photoshoots but some fans think that adds to their charm. they’re nb and dating izumi, and they’re in robo trio with her and ayame

ayame - dream colored energy (prichan)

I picked this song for ayame mostly based on the lyrics about being a guiding presence and helping others but I think rinka’s soft voice suits her. ayame is the one who gives robo trio their name bc she herself is a robot. btw robo trio is not an official or even a fan nickname, it’s a nickname used by me and the idols themselves bc ayame being a robot is a secret. there are not a lot of lifelike humanoid robots in the setting and since ayame was liberated from someone who bought a robot that looks identical to a human woman for nefarious reasons they just pass her off as a human. it’s working pretty well bc no one expects you to steal a state of the art robot and put her in a popular girl group, especially without advertising her as being a robot. she’s really sweet and caring with mom energy but she can be super weird about it bc she’s fascinated by human bodies

yuki - do you remember love? (macross)

I was like “i cant just say my character is voiced by iijima mari” but for yuki I definitely imagine her having the voice of a retro idol and one whose voice is soft but resonant. lynn minmay was the first character I could think of fitting that description. yuki’s the vocals of the original trio and has a surprisingly arresting stage presence on her own but prefers to fade into the background a bit when performing in a group. she, ako, and hime actually grew up in an orphanage on the same planet and were already friends before joining the group. she’s pretty quiet unless you get her going on one of her favorite subjects, namely her hobby of building and collecting figures. everyone else is always arguing about whether or not they can let her talk about it openly to fans bc they don’t want nerdboy fans to latch onto her in gross ways but also they are sick of hiding her gunpla every time they do “backstage” videos

aoi - I am the best (2NE1)

aoi is kind of the main character to me. she was the last to join and they tried to market her as a naive new girl briefly before realizing that she is loud and knows too much so they just let her be annoying and sexy. since she has a sexy image I had to go for something outside idol anime but I don’t know any idol music so I had to go for this one which is iconic to me. idk if aoi would wear any of the outfits in this mv but she would certainly rap about being the best. her previous dance experience was actually all ballet so she loves to pull out ballet moves with no warning. her defining character trait is that she has fun. although she also has a darkness to her past bc when her mom fucking died she revealed that she had been one of the secret donors behind this idol espionage project and she wanted her daughter to help with the project any way she could so of course aoi was like “I will dance in stiletto heels and high waisted shorts. to honor my mother’s memory.” shes in chill/newbie trio with tsuki and rie

tsuki - dreaming bird (aikatsu stars)

I also thought about a yurika song for tsuki but yurika has a rock edge that tsuki lacks. tsuki is a singer above all else and has a powerful voice. she can dance but she prefers to simply stand onstage and sing. her family was really rich with millions of credits or whatever but they lost their entire business in a spaceship fire during which tsuki was trapped under burning wreckage and ended up damaging her legs and lungs. now she’s a cool cyborg with artificial lungs that let her sing without breathing but she has no money and no family. so she was like “I’ll make it big using my one talent!” and ended up getting noticed by the space idol project

hime - open your heart (aikatsu friends)

hime may not be the protagonist in my eyes but she has the energy of an idol anime protagonist and is the glue holding this group together. so I had to pick a protagonist solo for her. she probably has that kind of cute singing voice too. I liked the lyrics to this one so I picked it. hime is kind and loving in a way that’s kind of unreal. she’s always positive bc she’s like “I got out of the rough situation I grew up in, I made eight great friends, I have literally millions of fans, how can I not be grateful?” her quirk is to always wear a crown. she was picked to be the center of the group at the very start and that hasn’t changed. she is the center of the nine person group as well as the main trio

rie - hip (mamamoo)

rie’s another one who’s too cool and sexy to get an idol anime song so I gave her a kpop song I know and like. it’s really catchy and danceable and I think rie would wear pretty much any of the outfits in the mv. rie is actually mostly paralyzed and primarily interacts with the world through an experimental robot izumi built that’s basically a mobile hologram projector. either she can control the exact movements of the robot while making pre-programmed gestures with the hologram or have the robot stand still or follow a programmed path while controlling the hologram as she would a real body but she’s become really adept at using it. she’s really stylish and loves designing clothes for everyone but she has to be extra careful about her own so the accessories don’t clip through her body while onstage

#long post under cut

[lovelyshawnn]

Nervous: CEO!Reader x Intern!Shawn

My heels clicked loudly onto the white marble tiles of my company’s building as I made my way down the hall, towards my office that overlooked the city. The volume of the chatter from my subordinates decreased as their eyes followed my body, silencing their words. The whole floor would quiet down unintentionally out of pure intimidation whenever they sensed my presence. I’m really not as scary as they think I am, but I have a reputation to obtain. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to be their boss.

My assistant, Arlene, spotted my iconic high ponytail above the walls of the many cubicles on the office floor, taking that as her cue to stand up with my schedule in her hand, walking with me to my office as she read it out loud. She understood how I wanted everything to be organized and fastpaced. She was to read my schedule aloud every morning as soon as I walked through the door, not a single second late. As a CEO, I have a lot of things to do, so I don’t appreciate an assistant that isn’t quick on their feet for everything and anything. Which is probably why I went through dozens of assistants before I found Arlene. We quickly grew a bond and she was one of the few employees that I could actually bear in this company. I even consider her a close friend since we know each other like the back of our hands. This was not the case for the rest of my employees, who probably have never seen me shown any emotion besides irritated.

“We have a staff meeting at 9am, lunch with the representative of WFF at 1pm, videochat interview with Vogue magazine at 9pm, then we need you to read and sign these forms by 12pm tonight,” Arlene said all in one breath as quickly as she could.

“Oh! And our new intern, Shawn, starts today!” She said excitedly as she ushered him into my office. I looked up from the pile of papers on my desk to see Shawn walk in nervously, a tightlipped smile etched on his face. My brows raised in surprise. I was expecting some lanky, nerdy kid as the new intern but Shawn was quite the opposite. He was 6 foot and 2 inches of sculpted muscle. My eyes travelled up and down his glorious body like a predator stalking its prey.

“Hello, its a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said. As soon as I heard his deep voice,I knew he was done for. I wanted so badly to just wreck him, taking him right then and there. I didn’t even know why I was thinking of this, I’ve never been truly attracted to a coworker in all my years of working, but here I was. There was just something about his pink blush that complimented his pale skintone, his big calloused hands, his perfectly wavy hair and...wait, what? I have to snap out of this haze, he’s just an intern. An incredibly cute intern, but still just an intern.

I shook my head to vacate all the inappropriate thoughts from my head. “Hi Shawn,” I replied, sticking a hand out for him to shake. His large hand flew up to firmly grip my small one, which ignited tiny little sparks in my hand that created a blush on my face.

I quickly pulled my hand back and diverted the focus from his hand to my work to avoid the awkwardness. Arlene took the hint as she saw my eyes shift back to the paper work, so she ushered Shawn out of my office to let me be. I decided to begin my work day by reading over some forms to sign but my mind kept thinking back to how his hand felt wrapped around mine. Why was my mind so occupied on this one guy? Fuck, maybe I just have to get laid. I never get this weak for one guy.

I huffed in frustration before getting up and making my way to the office kitchen/break room in desperate need of coffee. Usually I’d just ask Arlene to do it but today, I felt the need to get out of my office and clear my head for a bit. As I rounded the corner and walked into the break room, I spotted Shawn’s muscular back turned towards me as he was fixing himself a cup of coffee. It amazed me how someone can look so good in a pair of trousers and regular old sweater. I rolled my eyes at my own out of character thoughts. Treat him like every other employee. He’s no different.

His head turned toward me as he heard the clicking sounds of my heels. “Mrs. Y/L/N! Arlene said I should make you a coffee before the staff meeting, so uh, here you go,” Shawn stuttered out nervously. I eyed the cup of coffee that looked rather small in comparison to his huge hand, before taking it away from his grasp and taking a sip. My face scrunched up in horror at the taste, “Shawn, have you ever made a coffee before in your life?”

His eyes widened in fear, which made me smile at his innocence, but I was quick to cover it by turning away from him and towards the coffee maker. Or so I thought, but little did I know that Shawn most definitely caught the sight of the tiny smile that graced your lips, which eased some of his worried nerves.

“I like my coffee iced if its before 3pm with 2 sugars and some creamer,” I said as I made my coffee in front of him to demonstrate, “If its after 3pm, just make me some caffinated tea. Please tell me you know how to do that, at least.” He nodded frantically.

“I’d study this if I were you, you’re gonna be making a lot of these throughout the next few months,” I said with a bit of harshness in my tone before closing the lid on my coffee cup and strutting out of the room with a sway in my hips, not once looking at him as I finished my sentence.

He watched as my legs carried me away from him, his eyes trained on that perky ass of mine as he felt his pants tightened against his bulge. As soon as I left the room, he let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. His new boss scared the shit out of him, but he had to admit, he was kind of into it. And the fact that she was hot as hell didn’t help his innappropriate infatuation with her. He snapped out of his thoughts as he remembered that he was supposed to be at the staff meeting and quickly made his way to the office.

I was sat on the end of the big rectangular desk with Arlene to my left and Shawn to my right. The rest of the main employees were sat all around the desk as they took turns updating me with how their department was holding up, and if there was anything we needed to do to fix it. As Dwayne from finances was talking about our budget for the month, you noticed that Shawn’s occasional nod had stopped, and he was now staring off into the distance lifelessly. I took my heel clad foot and gently tapped his calf to gain his attention, raising my brow at him in a disapproving way. He jumped up slightly at the sudden realization that he had zoned off, resulting in him leaning forward, trying to seem more intrigued in the insanely boring meeting. I smirked at how obvious it was that this poor guy was intimidated by me before ending the meeting after everyone had a chance to talk.

I walked back to my office side by side with Arlene, Shawn trailing closely behind, as she gave me any updates or any new information that you needed to know. “The representative for WWF just called saying he can’t make it to lunch today, should I reschedule?”

I rolled my eyes at their unprofessionalism and lack of punctuality. ”No, that won’t be necessary. Remind me to never waste my time on them again,” I said with irritation. My annoyance only grew as my stomach grumbled and my hunger grew.

“I’m still hungry, though. Would you like to accompany me to Le Petit Bistro?” I smiled at Arlene hopefully.

She shook her head no, “I’m sorry babe, I got a bunch of deadlines coming up today, I don’t have the time.” I pouted slightly in disappointment until I spotted Shawn, who was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes scanned all over the office that was still new to him.

“You. Shawn. Would you like to go to lunch with me?” I asked in a straight forward fashion. His eyebrows raised and eyes widened as he realized that you were talking to him. He glanced between you and Arlene, unsure of what to say. Arlene gave him an encouraging nod, mouthing something along the words “Say yes!” Shawn swallowed the lump in his throat before nodding, “Y-yeah, I’d love to.”

I grinned and turned in my heels, making a beeline to the office elevators. As I got in, I noticed that Shawn was still stood exactly where I left him, “You coming?”

He rushed to meet me in the elevator before it closed. His heart was racing, feeling anxious about being alone with the CEO of this medium sized company.

“So, where are you from, Shawn?” I said in an attempt to make small talk. “Oh, uhm, I’m from Pickering, Canada.”

My brows lifted in surprise, “Wow, really? When did you move to San Francisco?”

“About a month ago, I moved as soon as I found out that I got the internship.”

My heart dropped as soon as I heard this. Suddenly, I felt pretty bad about not treating him a little more kind. This guy was completely new to this city, and a scary boss wasn’t going to help him get settled in. I weighed the pros and cons before making the final decision, “How about we do some sight seeing today? Have you seen the Golden Gate bridge yet?”

Shawn’s eyes widened for what seemed like the hundredth time today, “No, I’ve been meaning to, but wait don’t you hav-“

“No buts! We’re going!” I cut him off, earning a small chuckle from him. We walked out of the elevator and made our way to my car, where I replaced my black stilettos with sneakers that are more appropriate for walking around all day.

“Alright. First stop: Pier 39!” I screamed with excitement as he watched my childlike outburst from the passenger seat. Truthfully, I’ve been living in SF my whole life so I couldn’t care less about the tourist attractions, but this was the first time in a long while that I did something spontaneous. I have to admit that I’m a workaholic, and I love to stick to strict schedules and routines. But I was loving the thrill of finally doing something out of the blue.

After a pain in the ass time looking for parking, we finally made our way to the pier. We spent the hour walking in to all the cute little shops, enjoying the live entertainment, taking a ride on the carousel, and stopping for some clam chowder.

To end the day’s adventure, we took a boat ride that allowed us to get a good view of Alcatraz Island and the Golden Gate bridge. The soaring wind made me a bit chilly, making me wrap my arms around yourself, clinging onto my thin dress shirt to find some kind of warmth. Shawn noticed my actions before taking off his jacket and handing it over to me.

I smiled up at him at the kind gesture before slotting my arms through and shrugging on the oversized jacket, ”Thank you.”

“No problem, honey,” he said, swinging an arm over your shoulder to keep the both of you warm. Hm. Honey. I replayed the way he said the word honey over and over in my head, thinking about how perfect it sounded rolling off his tongue.

As we made our way off the boat and back into my car to head back to the office, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his body felt against mine. What seemed like just a harmless, relaxing getaway from my intense work load was now having me rethink everything about my love life. I haven’t dated anyone in the longest time, I’ve always been way too occupied with work to even think about men. But there was just something about Shawn. Like the way his soft voice makes me feel all warm and relaxing inside, or the way his smile was so goddamn contagious.

No. You’re just in love with the idea of him, the idea of someone being able to take you away from the stress of your demanding job, I thought. This is just a temporary crush that spawned from the fact that we were both out of the office doing fun things, it’ll die down as soon as we get settled back in the office, working.

We rode the elevator in silence and when we got to our floor, I noticed that no one else was in the office. I glanced at the clock, which read 8:30pm.

“Oh shit, its already 8:30?” I said in shock. ”I’m so sorry, I must’ve lost track of time. You can go ahead and head home now, Shawn. Our office usually closes at 6, but I still have some work to do.”

“Oh, uh, actually Arlene wanted me to finish organizing some of the files in your office before I leave for today,” Shawn lied. I mean, Arlene did tell him he could do that to start his first day doing something easy, but she never set a deadline for him. He just wanted to spend a little extra time with you.

“That’s fine, you can do that while I do my videochat interview in a bit,” I replied, unlocking my office door for the both of us to step in. Shawn nodded and headed for the file cabinets in my room while I set up my computer.

Within a few minutes, I heard the blaring skype ringtone. I quickly fixed my hair before accepting the call.

“Hi there! My name is Jess, I’m a journalist from Vogue magazine,” a woman with dark brown hair said. After we exchanged greetings, she explained how the interview would work and began asking typical questions like when I began my business and what it feels like to be a young female CEO in the city.

I answered all these questions with ease since people ask me them all the time, it was as if I was running on auto pilot. Some time during the interview, my eyes shifted from my computer screen to Shawn, who was currently sorting through some papers quickly with his massive hands. Fuck, those hands were beautiful. Watching his fingers fly through the papers made my mind wander off, thinking about how those fingers would feel on me.

“Mrs. Y/L/N?” Jess called out.

I quickly diverted my eyes back to the computer screen, “Yes, uh, what was the question again?”

Jess chuckled slightly, “Well, as a young female boss, where do you find the time to date? Are there any special men in your life at the moment?”

Shawn’s head snapped towards me once he heard the question clearly, curious to my answer. My mind blanked out as I processed the question. I never really got personal questions, but since this was Vogue that was interviewing me, I should’ve expected that.

I laughed nervously, “I’ve mostly been focusing on my work actually, so there hasn’t been any special men in my life for awhile.” Shawn’s eyebrows flew up a bit at your response before he turned his head and got back to his work. You furrowed your eyebrows slightly in confusion about his reaction. It looked as if he were questioning the legitimacy of your answer. For the most part, it was true. I’ve only been on a handful of dates here and there since the start of my career 2 years ago, but none of them really connected with me. Not until today... with Shawn.

After a few more questions, we said our goodbyes and ended the skype call.

Remembering how Shawn’s eyebrow lifted at me in a questioning way, I decided to stand up from my spot by my desk and walk over to him to confront him about it. “Why’d you look at me like that? When she asked about my ‘special men?’” I asked, using hand quotes mockingly for the words special men.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He smirked without glancing up at me at all. That fucker knew exactly what I was talking about, it was evident in that cheeky smile he was wearing.

I rolled my eyes at him, placing both my hands on my hips and giving him my signature bitch face that I was known for around the office. He finally looked up at me, acknowledging the stance I was in before laughing lightly. Thats weird. No one ever laughed at me when I did my bitch face. They’d usually start apologizing or pissing their pants by now.

“Okay, okay,” he said as he placed his papers down, “I just find it hard to believe that someone as beautiful as you doesn’t have any ‘special men’ in your life.”

His words left me with my lips slightly parted, mouth opening and closing again while I tried to find the right words to say, but I was left speechless. A blush started to creep its way up my cheeks. Goddamn this intern and his ability to make me blush so hard. I made an effort to cover up the blush immediately by turning around to the stack of forms I still had to sign. I sat on the edge of my desk with my legs dangling off and papers placed on my lap.

“Well, it is true. I have so much work to do, and men are just a pain in the ass. I need to relax, and men make me do the complete opposite of that,” I said while rubbing my temples at the mere thought of being in a relationship at the moment.

He didn’t know what took over him. Maybe it was the wine that you two downed on the boat. Or maybe if was the way your perfectly tight high ponytail was now messy with baby hairs flying out of your head. Or maybe it was the way your skirt rode up your thighs when you took a seat on top of your desk. He didn’t know why at all, but the words just slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, “I can help you relax.”

And before he knew it, his legs travelled the short distance from his spot by the file cabinets to right in between my legs that were slightly parted. One of my eyebrows quirked up in a curious way while my pupils dilated to watch his every move, still confused as to what was going on. The shy, nervous fresh faced intern that started the day off by being scared shitless of you was now bolder than ever.

At the lack of my response, Shawn leaned over to close the small gap between us and planted his lips on mine. It was like I was completely out of control around him because although it was against all the red flags in my head, I wrapped my arms around his neck and curled my fingers into his soft curls. His hands were on my waist as his lips meshed together with mine. In a swift power move, I gave a good tug on his hair which resulted in him letting out a small gasp. I took advantage of this by slipping my tongue through and adventuring into his pretty mouth.

The fact that we were all alone in this big office, doing exactly what we aren’t supposed to do made it so much hotter for us. The feeling of his skin on mine, his lips brushing against mine, ignited a once dead spark inside me. I craved the touch of a man that I was deprived of for so long, but more specifically, I craved him.

I took the initiative, moving my hand from behind his neck to the front, grasping his throat between my fingertips lightly before trailing them down his toned chest. Shawn whimpered almost inaudibly at the feeling of my hand around his neck, nails digging in just the right amount. If the office wasn’t completely vacant at the time, I would’ve missed how the tiny whimper escaped his swollen pink lips. I smirked into the kiss. Of course he’d be into that. God, I’m going to wreck him.

My hand travelled down to where he needed me the most, cupping his member with my palm right when the phone rang. We jumped at the sound of the ringtone, scrambling off of each other as I hopped off the desk and made my way over to the phone. Its like the phone’s ringtone was like a wakeup call, bringing us back to reality.

I’m his boss and he’s just an intern, we’re not supposed to be doing this. But fuck, that just made it feel better. I flattened my clothes out, smoothing over the creases before picking up the phone.

Arlene was on the other end of the line, reminding me of the deadlines for the paperwork that needed to be scanned and sent off and notifying me of a sponsor’s interest in our company. I thanked her and wrote down the notes in my planner before hanging up. I turned around to face Shawn, but instead I was met with my usual empty office. What used to be comforting to me, was now cold and lonely. The sadness creeped in as I took in my surroundings and saw how there was not another sign of life in this building.

He left. And you were alone, as usual.

a/n: there will be a part 2 to this!! im thinking about making this a whole ass series/fanfic so stay tuned and pls leave feedback heheh

#shawn mendes au #shawn mendes au imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes #CEO!Reader x Intern!Shawn #Intern!Shawn #intern shawn

[argylemnwrites]

Why?

Pairing: Seth Levine x MC (Jessica Parker)

Book: Red Carpet Diaries (~Book 3, Chapter 3)

Word Count: ~1400

Rating:  PG

Summary: A simple question from Seth prompts a lot of introspection from Jessica. Why do things feel more unsettled after their engagement than they did before?

Author’s Note: Written for Day 7 of the Choices July Challenge (prompt - Reflection).

Why is it that all I am writing these days are ways to explain canon content from PB? While I don’t have an objection to PB allowing players to decide whether or not they want an open relationship in RCD, the way it was executed, coming a long way into a relationship and only after a proposal felt strange and pretty out of character for Seth. This is my attempt to process how that question would sit with my MC, as well as dealing with the fact that MC in this book seems to rarely spend any time with her LI.

Jessica scrolled through Netflix, trying to settle on something to watch. Plenty of things seemed like they would be fine, but what if there was something better? She knew she was being indecisive. But to be fair, this wasn’t usually her job; Seth would always pick something out.

She sighed. They hadn’t seen much of each other since they returned from Hawaii. He’d left the next night to headline some comedy shows further north along the Left Coast, starting in San Francisco and ending in Seattle. And between his late nights and her early morning meetings, there hadn’t even really been much time to chat. His phone call yesterday was the only time they had really spoken.

As great as it had been to hear his voice, she couldn’t help but be a bit unsettled by the whole topic of conversation. Why had he suddenly asked her if she wanted an open relationship? They had been exclusive with each other since the whole fake-dating thing with Chadley well over a year ago. He was the one to propose, so reluctance at taking that next step didn’t really make sense. She just didn’t understand where this was coming from.

I mean, they were both small town midwesterners, for Pete’s sake! She had always assumed that they were on the same page here, both having been raised where monogamy and relationship were equivalent terms. And maybe if he had wanted to clarify the expectations of their relationship ages ago, when it was all still new and fresh, she could have understood it. No harm in being explicitly clear, after all. But for the question to come up now? Well, it just didn’t sit right with her.

She thought she’d stayed pretty calm through the actual conversation, but she couldn’t stop her mind from drifting back to it repeatedly over the past 24 hours, reflecting on why he’d ask her such a question. One reason kept worming it’s way back into her mind - he met someone else he wanted to sleep with at his San Fran show.

It was the only thing that made sense. And while she didn’t think that he would actually cheat on her, the fact that he was so tempted that he asked her about opening up their relationship? Well, it made her feel sick to her stomach. Seth had always felt like home, the Midwest personified. He was warm and caring and kind-hearted and so free from pretense and manipulation, no matter how jaded his years as a struggling comic and screenwriter had made him. This was the first time he felt like Hollywood. Jessica hated it.

She knew that it wasn’t always easy for the two of them, with their busy careers that kept them apart more often than they’d like. And maybe it was naive of her to expect that she would be enough, that Seth wouldn’t sometimes just need to satisfy that physical urge. She also knew that Seth still struggled with the fact that his career as a standup really only gained traction after the two of them were consistently linked together in the tabloids. She knew it ate him up inside that his success was not just due to his own talent, and no reassurances on her part that he was too funny to not have succeeded eventually, that all their relationship did was gain him some initial attention, but everything he received after that was rightfully his, could ever fully soothe his doubts and insecurities. She couldn’t help but think that if a man or woman at one of his sets showed an interest in him for his own talent alone, that maybe, just maybe, it would be tempting.

Jessica clicked off her TV in frustration. Sitting here worrying wasn’t going to change the situation. What she really needed was to see Seth face-to-face, to look him in the eye to better understand where he was coming from. But that wasn’t going to happen until he got back in town. So, for the next four days, she threw herself into planning for her film, taking notes on different chapters, rereading her favorite portions, trying to keep positive about the relationship she’d been sure was the most steady thing in her life. But all too often, she found herself wondering who it could have been that caught his eye.

The morning Seth was scheduled to arrive back in LA, Jessica awoke with nervous knots in her stomach, and not the excited kind. She was bracing herself for what was bound to be an awkward conversation. Unfortunately, her planned talk was pushed back even further when Seth texted her that his flight got cancelled due to no available flight crew. He was able to get himself on a flight back later that evening, but Jessica had committed to a nightclub appearance as part of her promotional work for her most recent film, meaning she would be tied up by the time his flight landed. Resigning herself to not settling things with him until the next morning, she went through her day in a haze, her mind dwelling on who this person was that was so appealing, Seth just had to call and test the waters to see if she would be cool with him sleeping around. She barely touched her drinks at the nightclub, unsure how much alcohol she could handle before she’d be sick, so nervous about everything right now.

Finally, her phone buzzed that it was 1 am. Her contractual obligations were complete, and she was in a car headed home by 1:01. When she finally reached her high rise, she was exhausted and ready to head straight to bed. Opening the door after the elevator ride to the top floor that seemed to take forever, she stumbled over something, nearly crashing into her console table. Glancing down to see what she’d gotten her heels tangled in, she was pleasantly surprised to find a pair of sneakers much larger than anything she would wear.

Although she and Seth had keys to each other’s places, they usually chose to spend the night at their own if either one had work obligations, although Jessica realized they should probably revisit the topic of living together now that they were engaged. Or at least, they should revisit it if they were still on the same page here. A lot felt up in the air right now.

Slipping off her stilettos, Jessica headed into her bedroom. The vice around her heart loosened instantly upon seeing Seth passed out on her bed, his curly hair disheveled from sleep. He was still fully dressed, clearly planning on waiting up for her. But his fatigue from the past few days of travel must have caught up to him, as he was snoring faintly, even though the bedroom was still fully illuminated. The fact that he’d even made the decision to come to hers, in spite of his clear exhaustion, knowing she wouldn’t be home until so late, well that alone killed so many of her fears.

Tiptoeing into her closet, Jessica slipped into a cozy sweater and some comfy leggings before washing her face, brushing her teeth and throwing her mess of curls up for sleep. She tried to sit down gingerly on her side of the bed, not wanting to disturb Seth, but her weight on the mattress woke him up anyway. He blinked a few times, trying to orient himself, before he his eyes locked on her face laying down across from him. His face broke into a goofy grin before he lifted his arm, inviting her into his arms. As she scooted over, she felt less tense by the moment, although the last tendrils of doubt remained.

“Hey, Iowa.” His voice was thick with sleep.

“Hey yourself.” Jessica took a breath, preparing herself for the words she’d rehearsed in her head over the past several days, but before she could even begin, another snore rumbled through Seth’s chest. Shaking her head, Jessica reached over and turned off the lamp, dousing the room in a cozy darkness. This talk could wait until tomorrow. Right now, it was clear that there was no other bed Seth wanted to be in, and for tonight, that would have to be enough.

Tags: @mfackenthal @kinda-iconic @choicesjulychallenge

#seth levine #seth x mc #rcd #rcd fanfic #red carpet diaries #choices rcd #choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices july challenge

[moviestorian]

Albums Review: Sheer Heart Attack (1974)

Hi, I’m back again! It’s time for another one of my fave Queen albums, all the previous reviews can be found here.

Title Review: A really accurate representation of the album, especially when Roger’s falsettos in In the Lap of the Gods attack you. ;) Or when you’re looking at the front cover and can’t handle the hotness. 9/10

Cover Review: They look kinda uncomfortable, but the entire photoshoot gives me life. Cosy friendship! Also Roger’s hair extentions look slightly weird. 8/10.

Songs review:

Brighton Rock: A really cool rocker! I LOVE the beginning (the circus vibes, etc.), although I must say I’m not a huge fan of Freddie’s higher vocals here (I prefer the parts when he sings lower), but the rest is awesome! Great guitar solo. 8,5/10

Killer Queen: This one really IS a killer! It’s a great listen and I love the tiny details it contains, like the triangle, etc.! Lyrics are so nicely written and playful, too. I never get tired of this song. “She’s a killer kweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen” 10/10

Tenement Funster: Another one of Roger’s songs I really love! Not only you can hear him sing, but you also have John on acoustic guitar, so it’s a gem. I have some questions about the lyrics (I like to imagine Roger singing “Give me a good guitar”, because he wants to smash it on a head of that person who says his hair is disgrace - but then, why would anyone say that??? - and still be able to play on it). Overall, this song suits Roger just perfectly and it’s a really good listen. 8,5/10

Flick of the Wrist: Freddie, who hurt you??? O.o Another really good one, I like it more than Death on Two Legs. 8/10

Lily of the Valley: This song is very pretty, but compared to others it’s just fine, ot really special. 7/10

Now I'm Here: I like this one a lot, too. Brian had nice ideas in that hospital! 8/10

In the Lap of the Gods: Ooooh, let me start with illustrating this song with a dumb cat edit I made once and sent to @janiedean!

Roger’s falsettos are probably the most iconic part of this track, and yet they always take me at surprise. XD I kinda wish there were less “in the lap of the gods” repetitions, because I really like this song, musically. 8/10

Dear Friends: I think it’s really pretty and a bit bittersweet. It’s so short, though! It feels like a lullaby. 8/10

Stone Cold Crazy: Queen and thrash metal, an interesting combination! It’s pretty heavy, but really catchy and I’m impressed with Freddie’s fast singing. 7,5/10

Misfire: John’s first song ever and it’s one of his best ones, in my opinion! Lyrics are a bit...ekhem, ambiguous :P Of course I know what’s the most popular interpretation, but I actually think you can interpret it in other ways, too. Above all, it’s a great listen. 8,5/10

Bring Back That Leroy Brown: This one is like travelling to the past! I adore the musical arrangement, and Roger is on fire here. We want Leroy for president, yes. 8,5/10

She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilettos): This song really grows on me, the more I listen to it. At first I wasn’t a huge fan, and I gotta admit: some lines can be a bit annoying to listen if I’m not in a proper mood (”i loooooooooove”, “she is my heaaaaaaaaaaaaaaart”, “she is my loooooooove”). Other times I really love that. I like the drums in particular. I think that this song has a bit of a dreamy/surreal vibe which even turns nightmare-ish towards the end, and I’m totally into it. Also, interesting ending - the police sirens and heavy breathing. This song definitely is an experience, and I see why some people may dislike it. 8/10

In the Lap of the Gods... Revisited: I actually like it more than the first ITLOTG. The refrain is repetitive too, sure, but it doesn’t really bother me. I don’t know why, but I slightly associate it with farewells and there’s something about the “wo wo la la wo” part I find kinda sad. I don’t mean it in a negative way, of course. :D Oh, and I adore the “thunder” at the end! 8,5/10

Average score: 8,3(with cover & title), 8,2(songs only)

#wera talks queen #queenalbumsreviews #sheer heart attack

[krustywhore]

why race and albert are fucking assholes and no one will ever be as iconic as this duo

so i was working on some actual requests when my friend sent me this house hunters meme and i had the best idea i’ve ever had in my entire life so here you go, i regret nothing

so (modern) race and albert have this tradition

i don’t care if you interpret this romantically or platonically, but it’s canon either way

so because they both work in the theater/dance/etc industry, they go to a lot of mixers and events to meet a lot of people

but they’ve also been best friends since they were about eight so that pretty much means they’re down to just fuck with anyone at any time

so they bring back a game they invented a few years into college when they were looking at apartments to move into together

basically they do this thing where they introduce themselves and each other to people that don’t know who they are and make up the most ridiculous jobs that they can possibly think of and convince the person that, yes, that is definitely what they do for a living

it’s like those memes about the show house hunters

but these real-life professional idiots do it to people they work with

for example;

race: hello, this is my friend albert, he’s a freelance hamster trainer

fancy stranger: for...for this musical?

albert: obviously, how else would they train the hamsters for the show? 

race: it’s very important. they’re hard to spot, but you’re really missing out on a fantastic part of the show if you miss it.

or one time at a mixer for albert’s choreography studio

albert: hello susan, i don’t believe you’ve met my friend tony, he’s been giving slide whistle lessons here since i first opened

dance mom susan: slide...whistles? at a dance studio?

race: obviously, they write all their own music here. who else is going to teach the in-house band to play the slide whistle?

albert: it’s very difficult, susan, he’s been teaching them for almost four years now

and who could forget the mingling at jack and davey’s wedding? what better time to pull pranks than as groomsmen trying to ruin good impressions with the new inlaws

race: hi, yes, i’m the brother of the groom, jack. my name’s antonio, nice to meet you.

great grandma jacobs: nice to meet you, dearie! my, you’re in great shape, what do you do for a living?

albert: oh, he sells hand-woven shoelaces on etsy. it’s quite the arm workout.

race: thank you for noticing! i just started using these new patterns and they’re quite exhausting!

great grandma jacobs: oh my...well...that’s just great darling, i should, uh, probably get going now! 

but at the end of the night,,that’s when the stories really get wild. here’s some things drunk race and albert have gotten away with claiming to do for a living:

race:

stay-at-home astronaut

professional fish therapist

glues leave to trees in the spring for a living

door-to-door pet stiletto salesman

vintage water curator

albert: 

freelance rock climber

sells umbrella insurance from home

makes monogrammed sunglass cases on ebay

part-time harmonica tuner

vegan soap tester

it’s safe to say there are about a dozen people in the entire world that actually know what race and albert do for a living

none of their friends are included in that dozen

#my headcanons #my headcannons #ralbert #ralbert headcanons #racetrack higgins #race higgins #albert dasilva

[foreverbeingthunderbuddy]

Surprise

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, cuss words, that’s it I think

Summary: The reader is a big fan of the Avengers, especially of their newest addition, Bucky Barnes. She longs for nothing more than to meet him, which she does one day, though she wishes she hadn’t made a fool out of herself that night. Now she has to face him again at a press conference.

A/N: This is my piece for @upsidedownparker’s 3k writing challenge. Congrats on 3k, that’s amazing!! I picked the Dialogue prompt #20 from this post. The prompt is in bold. Word count around 5,4k (Gif by @bicon-valkyrie, from this gif set) 

Masterlist

You don’t remember the news coverage of the Starks’ passing when it happened because you were only a couple of months old.

You read up on it years later when you were old enough to understand who Tony Stark and his corporation were. During your research you found what the news articles claimed to be the cause of his parents’ death; broken skull on Mr. Stark’s side and some kind of heart attack on his wife’s side due to a car crash.

A lot of newspapers – whose digitalized articles you found in various libraries – speculated about the true nature of the supposed crash and questioned the general public’s verdict of it being a coincidental accident. Was it really? Or is there more to it?

You were young but you were immediately intrigued by the story. What did really happen on the night of December 16th 1991? Was it truly just an accident? Why didn’t they find any major injuries on Mrs. Stark’s body that could have been responsible for her death, why did they file a heart attack even though – according to several news outlets – there were really no signs of any form of cardiologic collapse to be noted?

The diagnose was a safe bet to hide the authorities’ lack of knowledge concerning the case, you agree with that theory. You don’t know exactly what happened to Mr. Stark because all that’s published is “broken skull”. That’s it. You wish you knew if they scamped giving out the right findings to the public as well.

What’s the truth and what’s a cover up in this case? The world never received an answer and the story got buried as time went on until one particular person stumbled into the limelight of New York’s high society a couple of years ago, making headlines for producing futuristic weapons of all kind.

Anthony Edward Stark, being the mere incarnation of a playboy, also known as Tony Stark – or at this point, Iron Man.

You remember watching a video of his presentation for the Apogee Awards in Las Vegas years ago.

“With the keys to the kingdom, Tony ushers in a new era for his father's legacy, creating smarter weapons, advanced robotics, satellite targeting. Today, Tony Stark has changed the face of the weapons industry, by ensuring freedom and protecting America."

What an icon, what an absolute and utter asshole.

And today? Mister I-create-the-most-testosterone-filled-weapons turned into Mister-I’m-still-the-best-but-now-I-also-save-the-world-to-prove-that which is something no one saw coming. He built his own team of superheroes who are not only really good at saving the world’s ass but are also incredibly good-looking celebrities.

Say Steve Roger’s name in a subway and you will have at least three people faint, man and woman.

You kept watching the Avengers from a safe distance, followed the coverage of their missions and doings with the utmost interest and secretly came up with your own theories whenever things got heated in their fan clubs. Low-key, of course. You never stood in a crowd and screamed Tony’s name on the top of your lungs everytime he made a public appearance and you also never wrote fan post to each of them.

Until one day.

Until the day they presented the newest addition to their team. James Buchanan Barnes, but nobody calls him that, unless he is directly addressed. We call him Bucky, Bucky Barnes sometimes. He caught your eye the minute you saw shaky phone videos of what seemed to be a fight between Steve Rogers and Bucky, on some street. It looked brutal.

It also provided for weeks of vivid discussions among devoted fans and produced the craziest theories about who the stranger with the black face mask and metallic arm was. Every now and then there would be new amateur videos about the mask man, sightings, caught by fans and it all was a huge mystery to you. You were instantly captivated.

Months later, Tony held a press conference about an incident in Rostow and of course you watched it live in your office, sitting in front of your computer and pretending to work on an article while you actually had a livestream of the conference open in another tab and watched it, mouse on the little icon of your word document, so you could instantly switch back and not get caught. You had one earphone subtly inserted into your ear, so you would understand what’s being said.

The press conference proceeded normally, the usual statements, the “it was a success”, the humble smile, the applause from the reporter crowd. And then Tony turned back to the mic and started introducing someone who you didn’t know, but you were captured by his words, so you leaned closer to the screen.

“… not gonna lie, we had a problematic start but we have come to terms with it and decided to combine our powers and strengths and work together. So, after this rather unspectacular introduction, I want to present to you the newest addition to my team. Ladies and Gentleman, please give him a hand, my newest colleague and fellow Avenger member, James Barnes!” Tony shouts into the microphone and starts clapping, the crowd quickly follows, driven by the sensation of this news.

James Barnes must have been somewhere on the right, judging from the direction Tony looked at. He didn’t appear on screen, though, which not only irritated you but also his presenter himself. Looks like the revelation of the newest Avengers wasn’t planned at all.

That put a small smile on your face.

You remember Tony walking to the right side of the stage and wildly motioning for someone to come up to him – someone probably being James Barnes – and after some petty seconds of hesitation, James finally gave in, stepped to the edge of the stage and with a single motion, jumped onto it.

He wore a tight, red, long-sleeved shirt which he rolled up on the sleeves, and black pants. His black hair was long enough to reach his chin and you remember thinking how unusual that was for a man – but his eyes! Oh, his eyes. Whoever filmed this must have been an angel directly sent from heaven because they zoomed in on James Barnes’ face up to his shoulders which gave you an excellent view of his ice-blue eyes.

How expressive! How extraordinary.

You were fully aware of the fact you were sitting in your office thirsting over a guy with long hair and a red shirt but you didn’t care.

“He also answers to the name Winter Soldier by the way. Or Bucky” Tony said into the mic and got pushed away by Bucky who definitely didn’t seem to like all of this.

Bucky Barnes.

He looked exactly like the guy from the video that went around the internet a couple of months ago. He fought Steve Rogers and is now his new colleague? Odd. But fascinating, nevertheless. What you would give to get a good look behind the scenes is out of the scale of the ordinary at this point. How do they stand to Bucky and how did they go from fighting-until-one-of-us-dies to let’s-be-friends-and-work-together?

Nobody knows.

Fast forward to now.

You were just informed by your boss that you would get the mind-blowing opportunity to go to a press conference to get some questions through for your magazine – but not any press conference. Everyone probably guessed it by now, it’s a Tony Stark press conference.

Heart, stop beating so fast!

You are currently on your way from the cab you took to the entrance of the event hall that is owned by Stark Industries and reserved for things like this. You’re also about to pass out. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d get this gig, ever. Doesn’t mean you tried before, it’s just your boss always had someone else for that, mostly his rising star named Ellie Cannon.

She sure is something; pretty, quite smart, mediocre-skilled when it comes to writing but makes up for it by landing the biggest stories. However she does it, you’re still trying to figure that out but that’s a different topic. She’s also, and that’s the only problem you have with her, known for writing about the Avengers and Stark Industries and therefore a loyal attendee at his press conferences.

She gets all the stories, you are longing for. Even worse: at this point every single staff member at Stark’s corporation and him and his Avenger colleagues know her. Personally. Tony and Bucky know she exists, they even know her name… which is already more than you have on your résumé.

Ellie’s always there, asks juicy questions – according to your boss, but you wouldn’t give her that much credit seeing as the questions are developed by a small team in your office, so your journal won’t embarrass themselves on live television – and every now and then gets invited to Tony Stark’s exclusive parties he holds once a month.

So, she’s living the dream. Or more accurate, she’s living your dream. But not today. Today you’re going to be representing NY Value Daily. You got dressed up for that – a dark blue, white-striped Navy printed Culotte jumpsuit and black stilettos – and put on a rather subtle make-up because there’s nothing worse than looking desperate in a room full of professional journalists.

You show the security guard your journalist ID you got from your boss this morning and join the small crowd of people waiting to go through the security check. Staff is very careful with who enters the building and who doesn’t. Understandable for someone in Stark’s position.

The people around you look incredibly fancy and a little up their own asses and you’re glad you chose the glamour route instead of the white blouse and black pants you originally planned for this. Sophia, one of your co-workers, could talk you out of it last second. Bless her heart.

You crane your neck and try to see inside the doors to the conference room that stand open and reveal very little of the stage, unfortunately. God, you are nervous. How long have you dreamed of this and how long have you watched your colleagues get this opportunity and talk vividly about it the next day in the office? You’re normally not the super jealous type but that did sting every time.

You can’t wait to see Bucky in person. Again.

The thing is, you have met him before. Met as in ‘you talked to him for less than ten seconds’. But it certainly was an experience.

Tony Stark has invited all kinds of people for another one of his extravagant parties yet again. This time though he didn’t hold it in his usual location being his mansion (not the one in California, he actually has one in New York City) because there was some sort of renovation (?) going on. You don’t exactly know, he didn’t make an official statement about it.

Instead of celebrating on his property, he rented a hall and brought the party there. That hall happened to be ten minutes away from where you live. Ten minutes. A stone’s throw. What an opportunity! You couldn’t waste that.

So what you planned to do was, ignoring how sly you were for wanting to do it, finding out if Ellie was going to the party – which she was – and stealing something from her, something she would need on her at all times, even when attending a Stark party. Like her wallet.

You wouldn’t steal money from her or harm her in any way, you would just take the wallet unnoticed, work longer, then call Ellie at a time where she must be at the party already and act like you just found her wallet and offer to bring it to her, you “would have called it a day now anyway and the hall lies directly on my way home”.

That was the plan. Lucky for you and your metaphorical clean slate, she was being clumsy and all mixed up the entire day due to the big event in the evening, so she accidentally forgot her actual wallet at the office when she left. Without knowing she helped you follow your plan because you had tried to get to her wallet all day and weren’t successful and by the time it was close to the end of work you had given up.

You had it, called her, acted like it was super important that she kept her wallet with her under all circumstances especially if she wanted to pay the cab afterwards, offered her to bring it to her because see above – and luckily she agreed. She also didn’t consider herself too good not to flex on you with her invitation and the high-profile guests she has met already. The slight guilt you felt when you came up with your plan vanished completely at that.

You drove there, hands sweaty, stomach like a knot.

Found a parking spot in a side street, a miracle! You had expected the area to be jammed because duh Tony Stark and his mates are here. You got out of the car and walked to the building, ignoring the butterflies that seemed to be rioting inside of you. You had to stop a couple of feet in front of the entrance because there was a barrier and a whole bunch of security guards who looked intimidating as fuck.

While you rang up Ellie’s phone, you didn’t take your eyes off the entrance in hope you would see one of the Avengers. Bucky Barnes, preferably. How incredible would it be if one of them decided to come outside at this exact moment and saw you here? Took in your face and registered your existence?

Mind-blowing.

You weren’t the only one waiting for a little candid, there were several small groups of people standing beside you. Some of them looked normal, some of them glamoured up, probably hoping they would get access to the festivities somehow. Didn’t look like they were successful yet.

You heard them discuss various theories about single members of the Avengers and you mostly didn’t listen because 1) you already knew part of those theories and 2) most of it sounded delusional as hell. So you waited and waited and looked around you and eyed everyone and everything that walked past you until you noticed the conversation beside you going into a very interesting direction.

“… the question. Where did he come from? You did see the video PlazaMobster posted on YouTube months ago, so you saw the battle between Cap and Bucky. It’s just weird to me how they can fight each other to death one second and then the next second be work friends and stick together, you know what I mean?” One of the girls in a Captain America shirt said to another one who she just met apparently and you kept your eyes straight forward but listened in to their conversation because that’s something you have thought about, too.

“Yeah, hm. Obviously, Bucky was the bad guy at first but he … maybe Cap convinced him to change to the good side and now they have a Scarlet Witch kind of situation, you know? From enemy to ally. I don’t know how much you can trust someone who tried to kill you a couple of months ago but I mean … it seems to be working, doesn’t it? For them at least.”

“But how did Cap convince him to join them, though? ‘Cause I mean that shit in the video looked ferocious as fuck, you saw it. It’s just so odd to me.”

True. It was odd.

“I don’t know. Maybe someone else convinced him, maybe someone he has history with?”

“But who would he have history with? He literally just appeared last year and the Avengers haven been going for quite some time now, so that history must be a long time ago.”

“I don’t know, could be anyone. But, topic change, have you seen his arm? What the actual fuck? Is it metal or just something that looks like metal?”

You heard a giggle.

“I’m pretty sure it’s metal and to be honest, I don’t know what’s hotter, his hair or his metal arm.”

True that. These girls were just as thirsty for Mr. Barnes as you were. You tried to hide a smile and kept staring at the entrance. Ellie really took her time considering she told you she would be there in thirty seconds. This was so typical.

“Here’s a theory I have read last week and it has given me creeps the instant I saw it. Bucky has a metal arm, right? Must be strong with it, like really strong. How long do you think would it take him to strangle someone or even break someone’s neck with it?”

That caught your interest as you haven’t really thought about that and you couldn’t tell where she was going with this theory. The other girl snorted.

“I have no idea but he can choke me any time with it, I’m open to experiments.”

The girls broke out in laughter.

“And you have read the articles and news coverage of Mr. and Mrs. Stark’s car accident, right?” The girl suddenly asked, taking you completely off guard. What does that have to do with the death of Tony Stark’s parents decades ago? You decided to remain silent and wait for what she had to say.

“Um… yes?”

“So. The reports said Mr. Stark died due to a broken skull he incurred because of the car crash. But what about Mrs. Stark? All it said was “heart attack”, but how likely is it really that in a car accident so impactful that he breaks his skull, she only gets a heart attack? A heart attack, out of all things. My grandma died from a heart attack and she lived her last years in her cosy bed and never got out of the house. I have never heard anyone die from a heart attack in a car crash before. That’s so … uncreative.”

“I know! I thought the same when I read it. I think the police made that up because they either didn’t know what the real cause of death was or they wanted to cover something up.”

“Exactly!”

This conversation was an actual representation of your own thoughts you had about that night. The diagnose heart attack was a scam and one of them seemed to have a theory about what happened and for some reason, it involved Bucky Barnes.

“What does Bucky have to do with it now?” The other girl asked, speaking what was on your mind.

“Well. I read on a blog that maybe Mrs. Stark didn’t die because she had a heart attack. She died because she a) had other major injuries like Mr. Stark and the police is just odd for not publishing that or b) she died of suffocation.”

Suffocation?? Why in the hell would she have died of suffocation? That’s so unlikely, who came up with that?

“Suffocation? What do you mean? Why would she- who would strangle … oh.”

Oh. Yeah, oh.

“When Tony introduced Bucky to the public he said they had their problems but have come to terms with it and it also would explain why they fought him in the beginning. He has a fucking metal arm, what do you think how much strength is in that? The guy who posted that theory said, someone in his family worked as a pathologist who was involved in the Stark case. That someone told him they found crass bruises on Mrs. Stark’s neck and severe injuries in the same area that must have been caused by another person.”

Silence.

“That could be easily made up. Why did he do it?”

“I know. And I have no idea. But it’s something.”

“But why didn’t the police publish that bit of information? Why did they hold that back?”

“Maybe they got threatened by someone? Someone powerful? There’s a lot of stuff going on that we don’t know about. I think it’s possible.”

That’s it. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You turned to the two girls and looked them in the eyes.

“Are you seriously suggesting that Bucky Barnes, the kind of new member of the Avengers, the new hero of our city and country, killed Tony Stark’s parents in December 1991 by breaking Mr. Stark’s skull and choking Mrs. Stark to death with his metal arm? Is that really – really – what you are arguing about?” You asked absolutely baffled and didn’t make an effort to keep your voice down.

The girls looked a little taken aback by your interfering and stared back at you with wide eyes.

“Um …”

“What are the chances that the day I decide to attend one of Stark’s parties for the first time, I have to listen to three women talking about me possibly killing Stark’s parents?” A male voices suddenly said before you and made all three of you jump and quickly turn around to see who the person was. 

He stood three feet away from you, hands in his pockets, body turned towards the building but head towards you as if he was walking to the entrance but stopped when he heard you say these things.

His chin-long hair was in a bun in his neck, his face was clean shaven and his outfit consisted of a black suit shirt and black pants.

You needed three seconds to recognize him and the moment you did, your heart stopped beating entirely and sank to your knees. You had never been this close to him, never seen those ice-blue eyes in person. Even though it was dark, you still noticed the shine in them, the light, and felt the immediate attraction he sparked in you.

Several bodyguards positioned themselves on each of his sides to shield him from the other fans, though you doubted Bucky Barnes needed any protection. He looked very serious.

You didn’t know what to say. Embarrassment captivated your whole mind. The girls beside you must have been drunk.

“We just discussed stupid theories we read. Mr. Barnes, I’m actually a big fan. I didn’t mean to offend you” One of them purred nonchalantly and tried a coquettish smile. Her voice sounded higher than before and her new friend didn’t seem to be any different.

“Yes! I can’t believe we’re meeting you out here, I’m just a huge admirer of the work you do for us and I just want to say you’re my favourite out of the whole team. I don’t even know what to say.” Yes, you know exactly what to say, you little brat.

Geez. These girls just made a huge 180 and converted to ass kissing, it seemed. You didn’t say anything because you hadn’t found your voice yet and you also didn’t know what to say that didn’t sound like these two fangirls.

Not giving anything away, Bucky’s eyes swiftly wandered over their appearances before traveling to you. His blue gaze took you in and he appeared to wait for something if his raised eyebrows were anything to go by.

“Hm?” You asked because his staring made you self-conscious and you felt like you were supposed to do something.

“And you? Anything you want to tell me?” He asked you cockily. While you couldn’t believe that the Bucky Barnes was looking at you and asked you an actual question, you desperately tried to come up with something good and maybe clever. You couldn’t think of anything. So you proceeded to stare at him for a few seconds and-

Was that Ellie over there strutting towards you?

“No, not really, thanks. I’m just waiting for my colleague. She forgot her wallet” You say as unaffected as possible. That caught him off guard, you could see it in the way he raised his eyebrows even further and tilted his head a little. And then he gave you a small smile, which your heart immediately reacted to, and shifted.

“Okay, then. I was actually-“

“Y/N, I’m sorry I took so long! I was talking to Elon Musk and I just couldn’t turn him away, you know? I hope you understand” She simpered and reached for the wallet in your hands.

“Of course not” You said, your tone contradicting your words. But naturally, Ellie didn’t notice or, more likely, ignored it and turned to walk away again when she spotted Bucky next to her.

“Oh my god, James! Hi, nice to meet you again, I didn’t see you inside. How are you?” She laid a hand on his arm instead of going in for a tight hug like she would have usually done when meeting hot guys but even she isn’t stupid enough to hug Bucky Barnes. Speaking of, he actually looked like he’d rather be somewhere else since Ellie appeared which is something you could relate to.

You decided you made a fool out of yourself enough tonight and took a step back.

“Good luck with her” You teasingly said to him and waved to Ellie as you turned around. The last thing you saw was the irritated but slightly amused expression in his face as he watched you make a quick getaway.

Safe to say, you didn’t sleep that night.

---

You anxiously take your seat in the second row in the audience and try to bring your heartbeat down to a healthier rate. Subtly, you wipe your sweaty hands on the jumpsuit over your legs and lean back, in an attempt to look relaxed and unbothered. The chairs around you fill with each passing minute and suddenly it’s 11 o’clock and the press conference begins.

You take a quick look at your notes. You had four questions, from which you will probably only have two answered. Your boss was concerned to send you here as the official representation of NY Value Daily but you reassured him you’d be the perfect choice to do this. You have been to a couple of these – smaller cases of course – and you have watched countless of Ellie’s press conferences, so you felt prepared. Nervous but prepared.

Too bad Ellie was sick today. Too bad.

The minute Tony Stark and his companion walk out on stage, your eyes are glued on Bucky like your life depends on it. The special thing about this one is that it isn’t just Tony stepping in front of a mic, this is bigger. They have an actual table on stage, several chairs, several mics. They announced Tony, Cap and Bucky to be here which is something that … almost never happens.

So naturally you were ecstatic. Aside from a lot of other things.

The host shakes all of their hands and there’s this little gap where the audience applauds and Tony, Steve and Bucky stand behind their chairs and wait for the sign to sit down. You can’t believe Bucky actually agreed to do this.

You see his eyes roam around the room, take in the people he’s standing in front of and you tense when he travels along your row. His gaze rambles over you like any other person but you see him hesitate all of a sudden and his eyes come back to you. This is what it feels like to be stared at by Bucky Barnes in broad daylight.

Your body feels electrified.

You give him a small smile and try not to look like you’re about to pass out. He doesn’t smile back but you see him take in your outfit – or what he can see of it – and then slowly, his eyes come back up to your face. What is he thinking?? You need to know.

The host invites them to sit down and the moment is gone. They all take a seat and wait. Not without disappointment you notice that Bucky doesn’t look at you again.

So, the questions begin.

You hold back at first because you feel too anxious to raise your hand for the mic and just listen to what the other journalists ask them. Most of the time, though, you’re watching Bucky.

He does a good job, you quickly realize. He doesn’t seem too fond of having to sit in front of a crowd and answer question, especially the juicier ones (haha) but he does it without growing defensive or being rude. You wish you wouldn’t be so affected by all of this.

They ask him about his past which is quite inappropriate seeing as this press conference is solemnly about the mission they just completed and not about his personal life. He gives short answers and at some point when the reporter turns to the “how is your love life going, now that you’re a national hero *chuckle chuckle*” topic, the host intervenes and asks to turn to more professional questions for this event.

And that’s when you raise your hand. Heart is beating wildly in protest but you’re a grown ass woman, you can do it.

The host points at you and you stand up and wait for the staff to give you the microphone. You can do this!

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m from New York Value Daily. My ques-“

“Are you new?” Bucky suddenly interrupts you. You look up and see the teasing spark in his eyes.

“Um, yes. Normally, my colleague Ellie Cannon represents our magazine but she is sick, so I went instead” You say insecurely and hope that answer is enough. You can already hear the quiet mumbles in the crowd behind you.

“I know Ellie” Tony blurts out and looks at the two men beside him.

“Yeah, me too” Steve says and opens a bottle of water while Bucky adds a “Hard not to know her”. The crowd laughs at that. Is this an inside joke of some kind? Are they adoring her or mocking her? You don’t know if you are supposed to defend her now.

“Um, okay? That’s … cool. Well, I’m substituting for her today, so-“

“What a pleasant surprise” Bucky says and oh my god, is that a wink? Immediate response from the crowd, a lot of Ooh’s and whistles around you. You feel your face heat up.

“Bucky, stop embarrassing her” Steve scolds him but can’t hide the smile on his face.

“Don’t be so harsh, Steve, he’s right, it is a pleasant surprise. I thought all your magazine had for us was the lovely Ellie and I’m pleasantly surprised that’s not the case. I can’t believe they withheld such a beautiful, smart woman from us all this time” Tony hums and gives you a flirtatious smile.

Ooh, that’s mean. On the other side, Ellie always acts like she is the queen of the office and holds arrogance closer to her heart than modesty, therefore you don’t really feel like supressing the gleeful feelings that arise from his comment. He also called you beautiful which doesn’t happen too often and it does flatter you, not going to lie.

Someone in the room woos like he’s at a bachelorette party.

“Okay, um, thanks” You say shyly and feel Bucky’s eyes on you, “Can I ask my question now?”

“Whatever you want” Bucky answers which earns him a dig in the ribs by Steve. You try to ignore that and concentrate on your notes.

“Okay, so my question is, now that you made this first step towards allying with English authorities, will there b-“

“You are the woman who I met outside the party the other night, aren’t you?” Bucky interrupts you again. Another wave of whispers and mumblings fills the room yet again. You nod.

“Yup. That was me.”

“Wait, you know each other?” Steve asks and looks at his friend who decides to ignore him.

“I knew it was you.”

Oh, that smile. That fucking beautiful smile that shakes up your whole body. You suddenly have trouble standing and not sinking into your chair.

“Surprise” You say and try a kittenish smile.

God, your article about this will need heavy editing, that’s for sure.

You get your two questions through without further incidents and both are answered by Tony (”Interesting questions, I might go far afield for that if you don’t mind, miss Y/L/N”), Steve (”I agree with whatever Tony just said. I’m sorry but I’m not nearly as smart as you or him, so I better stay in my lane”) and Bucky (”I think the real question is why has no one else ever asked us that?”) which relieves you outside of human limits and when you are done, you hand the mic back to the staff and shakily take your seat. 

Phew. You did it! And you didn’t even embarrass yourself. Fucking professional.

You start grinning as soon as you’re sure the attention is away from you and on one of the other journalists. Of course, you don’t withstand not staring at Bucky, so when you’re sure he must be focused on the other reporters, you dare a glance at him.

And meet his blue, sprakling eyes. He watches you and the corners of his mouth tug into a cheeky grin when he catches you staring. You can’t stop the flustered smile spreading on your face and quickly look away. From the corner of your eye you see Bucky lean over to his colleagues and quietly tell them something before leaning back and pretending to listen to the question that is being asked.

When the press conference is over and the Avengers have walked off the stage, you stand up and turn to leave the room as you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder. Feeling puzzled, you turn back and see one of Stark’s staff members standing next to you.

“Miss Y/L/N?” She asks friendly.

You reply with wide eyes. “Yes?”

“Mr. Stark has asked me to give you this, it’s in behalf of Mr. Barnes” She says and hands you a heavy piece of paper. She says her goodbyes and off she goes. You are beyond curious and hastily open the folded paper. What you see is a hand written letter with a very familiar mark on top.

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

This is an invitation to my festive celebration in honour of the successful completing of our latest mission. Come and get wasted with us! Please. The dress code is set at ‘glamorous’, it’s up to you what you do with that. Though I ask you to refrain from wearing Bikini tops or flat boots, we do have our standards. Location: my New Yorkian Mansion (you know where). The party is this Friday, start around 6 pm. Show this invitation to the security guards and they will happily guide you inside. 

Much love,

Tony Stark.

P.S.: Bucky will be there, too ;) You don’t want to miss a good time, do you?

---

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New Post has been published on https://www.jg-house.com/2019/08/24/deceit-desire-saigon/

Deceit and Desire: Saigon

At 9:00am, Lan and I finished breakfast and left the dining room on the 2nd floor of Hotel Vissai to go to the Golden Smile Clinic. It was on Ký Hoà Street in District 5 of Ho Chi Minh City, about 30 minutes away. The previous night a new patient, from Australia, had arrived in the city formerly known as Saigon. The woman, Mary Lynn Tefford, lived in Canberra, Australia, and was desperate.

“She will be at my mother’s clinic at 10:00,” Lan said as we rode down in the elevator. “She phoned two weeks ago. She flew in yesterday.”

We exited the lobby and waited on the sidewalk in the polluted air. Binh, my taxi driver, brought his small car to a halt before us. He smiled, revealing a gap in his top teeth, a gap which hadn’t been present the previous day. Two days prior, he had mentioned needing to see a dentist, but I assumed he was going to have a minor procedure, like a teeth cleaning or a filling replaced.

Young Men Playing Cards, Saigon, Vietnam

The Edge of the City

The first rain clouds, dark specters, appeared on the horizon as Binh wove in and out of the buses, cars, and motorcycles on Nguyễn Văn Trỗi Street, the main thoroughfare between the airport and the center of Saigon in District 1.

By now, though, the daily changes in the weather were familiar.

Binh turned right on Công Ty Cp Bằng Hữu Quốc Tế-Cửa Hàng Số Street and then merged onto an even busier street, Trần Huy Liệu.

As Binh drove, he stared periodically at Lan and me sitting in the back seat. He wanted to listen to the story about Mary, the new client whom Lan’s mother’s had acquired and intended to treat for a recently discovered benign tumor in her uterus.

“She’s 42 years old,” Lan said. “She’s re-married. She wants to have a child with her new husband.”

Binh looked out the window and waved to a woman on a motorbike, who waved back at him.

“Mary doesn’t want to have surgery,” Lan said. “She wants to avoid any cutting with scalpels and a long recuperation from the trauma of surgery.”

Binh soon halted the car in an alley between Lương Nhữ Học and Triệu Quang Phục Streets. The area was popular with people looking for natural or herbal healers and for acquiring exotic and sometimes very expensive medicines.

Streetside Pedicure, Saigon, Vietnam

Golden Smile Clinic

Inside the Golden Smile Clinic, we saw the same miniature clerk who had greeted us two days before. She was 25 years old, but looked 16, and wore a white pressed blouse, skirt, and stiletto heels.

The clerk passed through a door at the back of the clinic, and we followed her into a narrow yard. We immediately saw a garden with an impressive collection of plants, not only sprouting from the ground but growing in pots hanging from a wooden structure with curls drooping onto the ground. The clerk pruned several leaves off of a tall vine with white and pink flowers, a pink-striped trumpet lily.

“We grow them for our clients,” a woman’s voice coming from behind me said. I turned and saw Lan’s mother. She smiled at me.

The clerk then cut off a Vietnamese coriander sprout and gave it to Lan’s mother. The clerk disappeared back into the clinic again.

The mother spoke to me. “Western medicine can help only so much in the most severe cases. I know it is the same in your country, even though you have many big hospitals and expensive clinics.”

The clerk, who re-appeared suddenly with a surprised look on her face, said a few words in Vietnamese to Lan and her mother, standing next to each other beside me.

“Mary has arrived,” Lan said, turning to me. “You can stay in the garden, if you like. Just relax until Mary leaves.”

Lan and her mother went inside.

“Do you want some water?” asked the clerk, whose name was Tran. “Perhaps coconut milk?” I shook my head to both questions.

The humidity was rising quickly. Lan and her mother didn’t return to the garden as Tran led me from plant to plant in the yard, describing each one and its uses, including the tần dày lá, or plectranthus amboinicus, for respiratory tract disorders; the sả hoa hồng, or palmarosa, for skin maladies; and the rau má, or centella asiatica, for blood circulation.

When I went into the clinic again, I saw Lan and her mother with the new patient, Mary, talking in low voices.

The Australian woman, who had short, blond hair and wore a blue polo shirt, tennis shorts, and Adidas shoes, was drinking a green liquid from a painted glass. The woman looked closer to 25 than 45 years old; she was muscular and appeared athletic and coordinated.

“My goal is to reduce the size of the tumor inside me so I can get pregnant again,” Mary said to me after shaking my hand. She looked as if she wanted to tell me more about herself, but she seemed to be distracted. “It’s important.” A jeep pulled up outside. “I have to leave. I’ll see you again, I’m sure.”

Two Men Contemplating Their Next Move, Saigon, Vietnam

In the Heart of the City

I told Lan that I had to go to District 1 and collect a folder of statistics on bilingual students speaking English and Vietnamese. Lan looked at me, disappointed, and her mother frowned. An idea occurred to me. I asked Lan if she could meet me for dinner at 7:30 in the rooftop bar of the Rex Hotel, one of the most iconic landmarks in Saigon.

Lan’s mother nodded, as if giving her daughter permission.

Karen had said to me earlier that morning that Duy planned to take her to the Rex at 8:00. Lan agreed to meet me. I wanted Karen and Lan to have an opportunity to talk. Although they were my two best friends in Vietnam, I suspected that they would soon hate each other or, more realistically, that they already did. I wanted to introduce them to each other before matters got any worse.

At noon, dark clouds gathered overhead as Binh brought his taxi to a stop on Nguyễn Thị Minh Khai Street.

A door opened on the ground floor of the three-story house, and Karen appeared in the doorway. “Emily is here,” she said. “I’m going to take her to SEAMEO when I go back for my afternoon class. You can come with us to the school. I have the folder ready for you in my classroom.”

I stepped inside. The smell of a recently cooked meal was obvious.

“Emily wants an extra teaching job,” Karen said to me, as we entered the kitchen. “But do you really need this job?” Karen said to Emily, who had just entered the room from another door.

“Yes,” Emily replied. “I can’t take any money from my mother in Texas right now. She opposes my relationship with Cao. I need the extra cash.”

Karen stared at Emily. “Do you really think that Cao will sacrifice his career in the army for you?” Karen said. Cao was a major in the Vietnamese army and rising fast in the Communist Party in Saigon.

“Why would he lie to me?”

I could think of at least ten good reasons. I thought that probably Karen could, too.

Two Women on a Motorbike, Saigon, Vietnam

SEAMEO School

Because Karen had to be back at the school at 1:30pm, I had to walk with her and Emily as they argued. Finally, from Lê Thánh Tôn Street, we entered the courtyard of the school, a property which once housed the CIA headquarters in Saigon.

Emily stopped and turned to Karen. “I appreciate your help in introducing me to the administrators here,” Emily said, “but I don’t understand your attitude toward Cao. I know you had a bad break-up recently. I guess you’re still hurting.”

Karen shook her head.

“I feel bad for what happened to you,” Emily continued. She was referring to Karen’s recent affair with a security guard during which he had fathered secretly a child with another woman.

Karen didn’t reply.

“Although Vietnamese men have a reputation for promiscuity,” Emily said, “I’m not concerned. I know Cao loves me. My situation is different.”

More dark clouds gathered in the skies above us, blunting the force of the sun’s rays but, at the same time, turning up the humidity.

“What Cao says now and what he says next month very likely will be different,” Karen replied with a scowl on her face.

“Let’s go and see the director,” Emily replied, ending the conversation.

Street Vendor, Saigon, Vietnam

Inside a Stretch Limousine

After walking the short distance from SEAMEO to Hotel InterContinental, I stopped under a tree on Hai Bà Trưng Street across from the hotel. A black stretch Mercedes stopped in front of me.

Although the driver, a Vietnamese man in his 20s, could have been anyone, I thought I recognized the big car. When the window in the back of the car rolled down, I recognized Howard in the dark interior. The car, I knew, belonged to Howard’s friend, Emile.

I assumed, then, that Emile’s girlfriend, Natasha, was with Howard in the car. I remembered that Natasha had just flown in from Moscow where she lived most of the year. Probably Howard and Natasha were on their way to look at more properties in the tony districts of the city. Natasha wanted a villa to rent, and Emile wanted Howard, who was a long-time friend from Pittsburgh—part of a large Jewish community in that city—to help her find a suitable one.

But I thought Emile also wanted Howard to help Emile hide his increasingly serious relationship with a young Vietnamese woman, a financial analyst who worked for Emile. Howard had become a shield or a diversion, enabling Emile to pursue the affair. I had tried to warn Howard, but he didn’t want to listen to me. He was in a dangerous position.

“Good afternoon,” Howard said, opening the door. “It’s cool in here with the air conditioning on.”

Howard slid to the opposite side of the car, and, while closing the door, I sat where he had been sitting. Phi, sitting beside Natasha, was facing me. Natasha was facing Howard.

The window next to me went up again, and the big car started to move quietly, as if it had a mind of its own. While the air cooled my face and arms, the blue light overhead made me relax and forget about the two American women, Karen and Emily.

“Howard thinks he knows the real-estate market in Saigon better than I do,” Phi remarked. “How long has Howard been here?” Phi said. “A month? It’s impossible. Absurd.”

Natasha glanced at me. “Although Howard knows the real-estate market in the States,” she said, hesitating and calling attention to her Slavic accent, “how he might or might not be able to find a house for me in Saigon is not important. I have Phi helping me.” She ran a hand through her hair, looking at me, expecting a reply.

Natasha, in her 30s, had high cheek bones, full lips highlighted with a pinkish gloss, and extra long dark hair. She looked more than exotic. She looked expensive.

I noticed Howard staring at me, wanting me to defend him, but I glanced at Natasha and decided I should refrain. The situation was complicated. I could have said many things, but I said nothing instead.

Natasha preferred a villa in the An Phu neighborhood, an exclusive area, located in District 2, but she hadn’t bothered to tell any of us, or even Emile himself, what she expected. Anyway, I knew that she had her own money and did what she wanted when she felt like it.

Emile was a little afraid of Natasha. All of us were.

Howard picked up some papers lying next to him on the seat. “From the listing for the property Phi has selected,” Howard said, “I don’t know why we should even bother driving out to it and viewing it.” He pointed to the listing. “It’s written in English. I have pictures, too.” He looked up at Natasha. “I know what the place has to offer. Nothing.”

Natasha, dressed in shorts with a see-through shift covering her legs and her upper body, placed a hand on Phi’s arm. “We’re going to see the place you’ve selected,” she remarked. “Don’t worry about it or worry about what Howard says or worry about what Emile might have told anyone. It’s my decision.”

Now I noticed Natasha wore a gold chain around her neck with a gold medallion suspended between her breasts. Howard looked out the window of the Mercedes. “What street is this?” he said.

Woman Eating Lunch at the Market, Saigon, Vietnam

Bar on the Ground Floor of the Hotel InterContinental

It was 4:00 in the afternoon. The crowd at Hotel InterContinental’s ground-floor bar, called Purple Jade, occupied all of the tables. A group of foreigners—all men—sat close by. The men spoke with English accents. Natasha, Howard, Phi, and I sat at a separate table next to the four middle-aged Englishmen. They had been been gambling at a casino, called the Palazzo Club, a couple of blocks away. Three of them were discussing what they had lost. The fourth bragged about what he had won.

“I told you,” Howard said, looking at Phi, “the master bathroom has to connect to the master bedroom. And, as you will recall, in the last place we visited, it did not.” Howard drank some wine from his glass. “Also,” he continued, “you must keep in mind that Natasha has a maid and a hairdresser. They go with her.”

We had walked through a villa with 12 rooms, renting for $20,000 a month. Natasha had followed Phi through all of the empty rooms and been impressed with the lay-out of the house.

“The place was beautiful, but it was not for me,” Natasha said. “We’ll look at two more places tomorrow if I have enough time.”

Howard drank some more wine. He looked at me and then at Natasha. “Don’t feel like you have to settle,” Howard said. “Phi has to find something you actually want.”

“That’s the problem,” Natasha said. She smiled. “I don’t know actually what I want.” She looked at the Englishmen, almost dismissively.

Abruptly Natasha stood up from the table. Her see-through shift seemed to get caught on her chair. “I’m going upstairs,” she announced. Her bare thigh brushed my arm as she passed between the tables.

The men from Great Britain watched Natasha. They smiled, a little sheepishly. They wanted to question us about Natasha, but they didn’t. They were silent for the first time.

Motorbike Riders Awaiting a Green Light, Saigon, Vietnam

Driving in the Rain

Under the tree on Hai Bà Trưng Street across from the entrance to Hotel InterContinental, I waited for Binh to arrive in his taxi and take me back to Hotel Vissai. The rain came down in sheets. Howard had borrowed a large umbrella for me from the concierge.

In the taxi, Binh practiced his English. I paid no attention. My thoughts turned to Karen, who now showed an interest in a relationship with Duy. Or, at least, she acted as if she no longer opposed one.

Binh pulled up in front of Hotel Vissai. I asked him to pick me up in one hour.

After showering, dressing, and sending e-mail messages to the States, I found myself back in the taxi with Binh. It was still raining. Once again, Binh talked to me in English. Once again, I paid no attention to him. I thought about Karen and Duy.

At the Rex Hotel on Nguyễn Huệ Street in District 1, in the heart of Saigon, I saw that it was brightly lit in the wet, shiny darkness.

“Are you going to meet the American woman or the Vietnamese?” Binh said.

“Both,” I replied. “It’s probably a bad idea.”

Garbage Collectors, Saigon, Vietnam

Bar on the Roof of the Rex Hotel

Under the awning, a cool breeze was blowing over the tops of nearby buildings and distant streets. I took a sip of Malbec, apparently imported from Argentina, and set the glass back down. I sat near the entrance on the rooftop where I had a clear view of the elevator and of people arriving. It was 7:30. The rain had stopped and a cool breeze swept across the city.

A couple emerged from the elevator.

At first, I didn’t recognize Karen, who, wearing makeup and high heels, looked 10 years older than usual. She was taller than Duy. Even for a Vietnamese man, he was short. The maître d’, wearing a black and orange uniform, led the two of them to a table along the railing at the front of the restaurant, where they had a view of the park below. They didn’t see me.

When the musicians started playing, I turned around to listen and, a minute later. I felt Lan beside me, touching my arm.

“Is that wine for me?” she asked.

She knew it wasn’t, but she started to drink it anyway.

The music was loud; the singer, with long, black hair, was Filipina, but she sounded American when she took the microphone and began singing.

“I know the song. It’s by the Eagles,” I said. “I can’t remember its name.”

Lan laughed. “Take It Easy,” she said. “It was sung by Glenn Frey.”

A Band Performs, Saigon, Vietnam

Ho Chi Minh’s Statue

“I like your dress,” I said to Karen. Lan nodded. I knew she wasn’t agreeing with me. Far from it. Lan didn’t like Karen, although she never said so.

I sat next to the railing on the rooftop and looked down into the street and the adjacent park. I stared at the bronze statue of Ho Chi Minh, a symbol of the past in the middle of the park.

“We went to the opera two nights ago,” Karen said. “We saw the Magic Flute, which turned out to be very good. First class.”

Lan didn’t respond.

Lan knew the opera and liked Mozart in particular, but she was pretending she didn’t to stifle the conversation.

“My friend was singing a leading role, the role of Pamina,” Duy volunteered. “I’ve known her for many years, someone I knew up the coast in Hoi An.”

I couldn’t keep my mind engaged. I stopped following the conversation.

After a few moments, I realized I was staring at Duy and Karen. My mood quickly was worsening.

I had hoped that Lan would like Karen. Now I knew it was impossible.

#LifeCulture, #Vietnam #Beauty, #HoChiMinhCity, #Love, #SoutheastAsia

#beauty #Ho Chi Minh City #love #Southeast Asia

[quaymorris]

Album: Britney Release Date: November 6, 2001

Well before our eyes were treated to the spectacle of Miley “twerking” on the VMAs stage to completely bury her Disney image, we had Britney and her album - Britney -, where she shed tf out of that sweet, innocent, “is she? isn’t she” girl image and started giving us S E X. I mean, I know y’all remember THIS. She apparently recorded a song with Missy Elliott for this album that never got released and that really just fries my bones.

Also, if you frequent Britney fan forums (WHICH I DO NOT, MA’AM), low sales for this album were blamed on a radio ban. Of which there is literally no proof, but go awf, conspiracy theorists.

Before we get started, I’d like to acknowledge this beautiful gif.

This is from a … Baby One More Time performance during her Dream Within A Dream tour, which came during the era she dropped the Britney album. What did I tell y’all? S E X. That word will come up a lot in this review. 

Onward!

I’m A Slave 4 U | 9/10

🎶 She may come off as quiet, she may come off shy 🎶 but, this is the sexiest single she’s ever released. Which gave us the sexiest video she’s ever done. And the sexiest performance she’s ever done. We also got her most iconic dance break and that “get it, get it - what” part - pure sex. BRITNEY IS GROWN, Y'ALL.

Overprotected (Album Version) | 4/10 Godawful Bono-like glasses included (peep the video), this is the weaker version of this song. Same goes for the music video. I can bop my head to it, but it doesn’t move me.

Lonely | 9 /10 Another girl power anthem, another “should’ve been a single” song. #justiceforLonely

I’m Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman | 1/10 Y’all gonna hate me, but I have never and will never like this song. It’s creepy af, especially when you realize it was written by a group of dudes. For a young girl.

Boys (Album Version) | 4/10 See Overprotected (album version).

Anticipating | 6.5 /10 Such a fun song! I used to play this when I got ready to go out with friends. I mean, it’s a bop. It’s just lighthearted, carefree pop.

I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll | 4 /10 This is probably the second best cover Britney’s ever done, but right after I listen to this one, I have to listen to the original. I wish there was less sex in Brit’s version (I KNOW, I KNOW).

Cinderella | 5/10 Middle of the road effort for what is a middle of the album song.

Let Me Be | 5/10 As you can hear, on this album Britney complained a LOT about feeling smothered and like she couldn’t do what she wanted. She has said this song is about a guy/dating, but idk. Methinks her rebellion (a reference) was starting to take form during this era.

Bombastic Love | 8/10 Another single worthy bop. I know the fanbase hated this when the album dropped, but come on now - it’s so catchy and light! It’s bombastic, it’s fantastic!

That’s Where You Take Me | 4 /10
 Uh, this song is fine. It feels like they weren’t sure of how to close out the album, it’s so filler-ish.

When I Found You | 2 /10 Every time I start this song I laugh. Who choose those weird sounds in the beginning?!?! (precursor to “Make Me”s weird ass opening sounds). I thought her ballad game was starting to drop off hard on this album, and this song was further proof.

Before The Goodbye | 7 /10 I LOVE when Britney’s songs included a bit of an r&b flavor. It compliments her voice so well, and her team should really let her do it more!

What It’s Like To Be Me | 5 /10 BYE, JUSTIN. 

I Run Away | 6 /10 The conversation I have internally every time (also a reference!) I listen to this song: “Yuck. Oh no wait I think I like it. Ok, it’s a bop. Glad it’s over though. *hits repeat* 

Intimidated | 6 /10 Remember what I said about Britney & R&B-tinged music? Yeah. It works very well again here.

Overprotected (Darkchild Remix) | 8 /10 Darkchild Remix > original. I like the slight bit of edge this remix has: not too much so it doesn’t come off like Britney’s fake, but enough to pull out more of her attitude. And the video’s choreo is tons better.

Boys (The Co-Ed Remix) | 6 /10 See Overprotected (Darkchild Remix). 

The Joy of Pepsi | 10 /10 LOOK. AT. THE. CHOREO. LISTEN. TO. IT. IT’S A FULL. REAL. SONG. GREATEST CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT EVER MADE. PERIOD. BAR NONE.

Right Now (Taste The Victory) | 5 /10 I love when she turns what should be a pretty basic, quick activity of a song into what could truly be a radio friendly bop.

U N R E L E A S E D | L E A K E D W O R K S Things start to get fun in this era. From rumors of the radio ban to heavy criticism of her increasingly sexy image to her showing signs of a rebellious nature, she recorded a lot more personal songs that over the years have leaked through each subsequent era. Keep in mind, the songs linked below are mostly really rough cuts as the songs were usually not finished.

She’ll Never Be Me | 5/10 This song could be even better if they didn’t make her affect that weird ass vocal fry on the verses because the chorus fucking crushes it. 

Mad Love | 7 /10 SOMEHOW I’VE NEVER HEARD THIS SONG. OMG, this would’ve killed during on the Onyx Tour with its hotel theme. This song says sex, stilettos, and martinis. Rawr.

When I Say So | 7/10 I wish this song would’ve made the album because I really enjoy it. Talk about sex - give me dirty Britney any day of the week. This song makes me feel like I’m fucking on speed. And like I’m fucking on speed.

Am I A Sinner | 1 /10 I think I’ve made my thoughts on this song very clear to my fellow hardcore Britney stans. There’s just something about this song that doesn’t click with me, no matter how many times I hear it. The chorus is the worst part thereIsaidit.

#britney spears #britney #album review #unreleased music #this is fun #somehow

[saviormysticmeme]

Hey, can I request RFA+V+Saeran reacting to a SuicideGirl!MC? The idea just pop up in my head lolol. I loooooove your blog hehe stay awesome

RFA+V+Saeran react to SuicideGirl!MC

Some NSFW

Ok so I had to look up what ‘Suicide Girl’ meant and what Urban Dictionary told me is that it’s an alternative style that’s somewhere between emo/goth and pin up. My type of girl and it was also noted that they’re pretty sexual and kind of known for their style of erotic pics and sometimes porn. 

If this isn’t what you meant and you actually meant then let me know but I think I got this one 

So let’s go!

Yoosung

He’s a stuttering mess

He never knew he was into this style until he met you

He didn’t know what a Suicide Girl was but you explained it to him and he constantly blushes “Wait so…so you’re a p-porn star??”

You blush a little “Well I wouldn’t say star…”

He has a fucking nosebleed. He has nosebleeds everyday when you’re trying on new outfits because you change right in front of him and oh mah gawwww 

Your tattoos. Your piercings. The way you move. Everything. And you always send him coy little glances knowing damn well you’re giving this boy the most raging boners.

Sometimes you ask him if he can help you take pictures ;*

Sometimes you send him pictures. Your photo shoots are anywhere between PG and Rated R for Rad as Fuck  or Raging Boner. Whatever.

He always tries to make sure he’s not near anyone when he opens them, but one time he accidentally opened one of your pics up when he’s with his friends

It was Rated R

On the fluffier side of things

You guys dye each others hair and exchange hair clips

You constantly rave about how much you love his eyes and it makes him blush. Sometimes you wear purple contacts and the two of you take a fuck ton of selfies.

Speaking of the selfies

They’re always so cute

You look so fierce and poised and Yoosung usually has a shocked look on his face cause “MC, you’re a model I look like-”

“You look cute Yoosung now come on”

And you start snapping away. About 20 selfies in he gets a little more confident, so he starts getting a big dopey grin on his face

It’s so cute. You look like Edgelord McGee and he’s just this little Vanilla Cone with a swirl of Awkward 

10/10 for opposites attract

Jaehee

At first it was a total ‘Whoa what’ moment, but she loves and accepts you as her girlbestfriend :)

:))))))))))))))

She loves how confident you seem in all your pictures. It’s clear you’re doing something that makes you happy and that makes her happy.

The tongue piercing also makes her happy

She has seen all your photo shoots, she even has some physical copies of her favorite shots

The kicker is she doesn’t have them just because they’re hot

She genuinely enjoys some of your photo shoots, talking about how they’re very tasteful statement pieces

She flatters you constantly without meaning to just by going on about how good you are with keeping your style consistent but making variations to fit the social setting

You think she’s talking about how even at RFA parties you’re elegant, but your dark pinup taste is evident with your V cut black dress with the leg slit accompanied by the stilettos and choker. 

 But who really knows. 

You’ve totally tried dressing her up before

Remember in her route how she asked about dark lipstick?

It works for her. 

Works reaallllllly well. 

But she’s pretty awkward about it all 

“I don’t know, MC, I don’t think I’m bold enough for this style”

You give a small pout as you undress her, but that frown is quickly turned upside down because

Hey you’re undressing Baehee B)

Zen

He’s so down

You were worried because he always talks about you being his ‘Princess’ and being a Suicide Girl wasn’t very…. ‘Princessy’

He agrees. It isn’t.

It’s very…. ‘Queeny’

It totally reminds him of his motorcycle gang days

When you two go out he loves to wear his leather jackets and dark sunglasses, but his favorite accessory is his hand wrapped around your waist.

You two are constantly serving L o o k s

Some of his fans rag on you for your promiscuous activities, but Zen shuts that shit down real quick.

Some really skeevy Paparazzos will try getting a rise out of him

“Hey Zen, how do you feel about anyone and everyone seeing your girlfriend naked?”

Zen whips around, staring daggers into this man, half of him fighting the urge to FUCKIN BRAWL

You tighten your grip on his arm and whisper in his ear “They can see me, but you’re the only one who gets to touch baby”

His scowl quickly turns into a grin as he looks at you.

T H E B E A S T H A S A W O K E N

He ignores the paparazzi and rushes you to the car so you two can rush the fuck home and get

Nasty. 

That’s the way to describe the sex between you two because he can’t control himself whatsoever when you’ve got those tattoos, those piercings, that hair. The attitude.

And fuck, half the comments on your photos are just guys telling you what the want to do with you in a bedroom so you know how to please Zen.

Sometimes he gets jealous and a little pissy about all the people commenting on your videos and photos 

But he remembers you’re just in the performance game, same as him. 

And when you promise that you’re all his

Well

huehuehue

Jumin

He’s so conflicted

This is not an image he can be associated with, not as the future CEO of C&R. And his father is quick to remind him of that, constantly breathing down Jumin’s neck about how he can’t be seen with you.

But Jumin loves you…and honestly the style is a bit of a guilty pleasure

He likes the leather, the chains, the tattoos and piercings. 

They were things he never saw women wearing when he grew up

It made it very easy for his subconscious to latch onto you because you were nothing like any woman his father ever brought home. You were nothing like the women who had tried using Jumin for his money

You were something new and he liked it. A lot.

So even he was a little heartbroken to hear you say you’d change your style so you two could be seen in public together. You’d quit your job. You’d be whatever he needed because you loved him and didn’t want to hinder his life. He came home one day to find you dressed head to toe in casual clothes, your piercings taken out, your hair dyed all black instead of the plethora of colors it had been before.

Fuck that

He picked up his phone and started making a series of calls. First to the hair dresser, then to a stylist, then to 707.

“Jumin what are you doing??” You asked, confused as to why he wasn’t happy with your new appearance.

“You’re not changing for me.” He grunted in between calls. “I want you to be happy when you’re with me, not playing dress up and acting like something you’re not.”

You guys reached an agreement

707 would wipe any traceable history of your videos and more racy pictures so no one could connect you to the more sexual part of your career. You’d get your hair done however you wanted, and you chose to get it done a nice, dark navy color, something still fun but a little more subdued. You put most of your piercings back in, leaving a few out, and a stylist would pick out nothing but the best clothes that matched your style while maintaining a very elegant look.

One day Jumin tells you to turn on a TV to a local fashion network

You do and suddenly you see a stream of pictures pouring across the screen featuring key points of SuicideGirl style and the host going ‘Is the American ‘SuicideGirl’ style coming to Korea? While previously receiving a lot of scrutiny, we’re seeing a new shift in this trend that makes it look very … classy. Especially if you look at M.C., girlfriend of C&Rs very own Jumin Han’ 

A picture of you and Jumin walking down the street together is shown, both of you freshly dressed to death looking good as hell. Jumin is looking right at the paparazzi’s camera…like he knew it was there

“Jumin…did you convince a fashion network that I’m a classy alternative fashion icon?”

“It’s amazing what money can do. Now…I can enjoy you for you” He purred the last part as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a kiss

707

He loves it. 

You’re the perfect mix of pinup and alternative. The red lipstick and tattoos combo really turns him on.

He took your professional photos and made them his background on everything

His 7 computes

His tablet

His ipod

He hacked all his gaming systems so you’re the background/opening screen

The only place he doesn’t have one of your pro pics is his phone

That’s reserved for silly pictures of you two

He loves just tracing your tattoos with his fingers, talking about them, planning your next ones with you

Planning out all your outfits with you

He tries helping you dye your hair but that never works well for anyone.

He kisses every single one of your facial piercings all the time and the other ones

He occasionally buys fake tattoo sleeves and magnet piercings and dresses up like you

He uploads his photos to the same sites you’re on and sometimes this motherfucker gets more views 

He always reads through the comments left on your videos and photos. If someones messing with you or get a little too raunchy, bet your ass their computer is fucked.

“Seven people are complaining their computers crash when they comment on my stuff”

“Huh, weird”

V

He’s a little uncomfortable with the video career. Just because he knows there are so many people being so…crude towards you because of it. You assure him it’s nothing, but he just hates the idea of anyone saying anything sexual or rude to you

He makes a proposal: You model for him instead. Photos of you to be put in galleries instead of online posts for sexual deviants to get their kicks off of

And you two can record your own private videos

I’ll let you decide if you take him up on it or not

Anyways

You probably saw this one coming but

So. Many. Photos.

He’s never had a subject like you and he’s eating it up

His photos always had a calm, peaceful, serene tone to them

The photos he takes of you? Passionate, daring, sexual. 

You pose for days and you two could go for hours.

He’s never been bothered by nude models, but when you start stripping your clothes he gets a little flustered

“MC, we don’t have to do nude if you’d rather not. I know we have a relationship so if you’d rather save yourself…”

You grin at him, unclip your bra, and drop it all while maintaining eye contact

His eyes widen, his mouth drops, and his camera flash goes off. 

Even if he gets his eyes fixed, his time being blind made him reliant on his other senses, especially touch.

Sometimes when you two are spooning, you take his hand and have him trace all your tattoos. Every time you hit a piercing he gently circles it with his index finger, and traces the shapes of the ones you have that aren’t typical rounds. 

Everyone admits they never imagined you two getting together, but you foil each other nicely. 

Sometimes you slip edgier pieces into his wardrobe

“MC, I don’t remember having black pants that were this…tight”

“Try them on. Trust me.” You grin when he can’t deny you the satisfaction of trying them on.

Saeran

Need I say it?

You two are the Edgelords of the century

You take pictures with him all the time and post him, constantly sending your followers into fits over the fact you guys are ‘#Goals’ or how ‘Oh my god they’re both so hot’

You get a few comments that are “Do a video together!”

Saeran doesn’t get it. What do they mean about a video together.

When he finds out

Ho

Hohohohoho

He gets so flustered and uppity. He’s pissed at your followers. “Tell them to fuck off”

But he never says he opposed to doing a video just for the two of you

Anyways

You guys take each other’s shit constantly. You’re constantly wrapped up in his hoodies, he’s always swiping your hats and belts.

Dye each other’s hair of course

Tattoo dates. Matching ones? Sure. But even when it’s just one of you getting one the other comes along and they make a day out of it

He follows you to work all the time

Someones taking racy pictures of you? If they’re a dirtbag about it I’m breaking their jaw.

You and some of your Suicide Girl friends are going out in public together? Saeran follows, never far behind.

Any douchebags on the street give you problems? He breaks their jaw. 

He goes through the comments on your videos

And they piss him off so much, but then you remind him that you’re all his

Alllll hisss

#tw: sucide mention #it's not that type of suicide but to be safe #mystic messenger garbage #mystic messenger #mysme #mm #mysme hcs #scenarios #rfa react #mystic messenger react #mystic messenger headcannon #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger headcannons #jumin han #jaehee kang #yoosung kim #jihyun kim #v #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #unknown #luciel choi #707 #zen #hyun ryu #asks #SaviorMemesHCs #reacts