#5 more michel in dresses please

[tiffaluvr]

hch mid-season finale how we feeling?

I wanna know if u guys still have theories and headcanons and anything else that u haven't seen yet in the story: plss drop them in the reblogs or replies!!! we need smth to fill these weeks of wait :3

[michellemisfit]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

Thanks for the game @heymacy 💜 and for the tag @gallapiech @sleepyheadgallavich

name: Michelle

age: 39

location: 🛁

top sheet, yes or no? I’m not sure what a top sheet is… is it just a thin sheet? Like instead of a duvet? In which case No. if it’s something else then someone please explain it to me and I will decide if yes or no lol

how many stuffed animals do you own? These days only like 5-10 max. Used to have hundreds.

the names of your pets (and the explanations behind them): Wiggins (after Bradley Wiggins the cyclist), Howard (after the foreman we had on a big build on the farm when we got the three kittens. His name was Howard Allen Crisp, and we loved him, so we named the three cats Howard, Allen, and Crispy), and Mouse R.I.P (after Mouse from The Dresden Files and Michael ‘Mouse’ Tolliver from Tales of the City)

favourite color: rainbow 🌈

any tattoos? Mickey Milkovich Voice: YEP YEP

how you transport your belongings (purse, tote, hands, pockets, etc.): small tartan backpack

the last movie you watched: watching the hunger games mockingjay tonight 🙌

how long does it take you to get ready in the morning? 10 minutes to get dressed, 10 minutes to eat breakfast, 10 minutes to do make up. If I am running late 2 and 3 are optional lol

favourite weather: 20 degrees, sunny, scattered clouds

relationship status: single, and not mingling

ice cream flavor of choice: chocolate with brownie chunks and stuff like that. The more bits of cake you can put into my ice cream the better. Which is ironic as I’m not a big fan of cake 🤷🏽‍♂️

first fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer 🫶 (I’m pretty sure wearing a Claddagh ring to a job interview got me my first real job lol)

how many books have you read this year? Trying to re-read Mockingjay, which will make the grand total… 1. Fucking fanfic man… 😬

first 4 words of your last notes app entry: Arrowshaft. Knock. Feathers. Point.

and finally, if you had to change your URL tomorrow, what would you change it to? I wouldn’t. There’s a few socials where I had to be MichelleMisfitX and I would like to drop the X. But that’s it.

Okay my lovelies. I’m very sleepy so tagging is gonna be a MESS! haha

@rutherinahobbit @deedala @darlingian @iandarling @too-schoolforcool @the-rat-wins @suzy-queued @vintagelacerosette @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @whatthebodygraspsnot @ian-galagher @iansw0rld @palepinkgoat @faejilly @rereadanon @energievie @lupeloto @wehangout @sickness-health-all-that-shit @mybrainismelted @crossmydna @captainjowl @creepkinginc @tsuga-of-mars @lynne-monstr @mickeygifs @mikhailoisbaby @crestfallercanyon

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Thank you for calling...

Chapter 5: "Please help..."

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter summary: When you come back Wednesday to work you didn't expect the chaos that awaited for you

Cw: Angst, crying, Eddie is depressed, more technical terms, screaming, people being assholes

You woke up early the next day, dressing up with whatever you found and going to work, when you got there your co workers were waiting for you

"Did someone die?"

"Almost..." Luke said

"Your customer called all day yesterday, he seems to have issues"

"Oh shit"

You waited until it was 7 am, clocked in and got ready, waiting for him to call again, your heart was a knot, was he okay? Is he okay? Was he robbed? Did something bad happen?

All your doubts were answered at 7:08 am

Edward Munson High Risk Authenticated

"Good morning and thank you for calling National Bank, my name is Y/n, who do I have the pleasure of assisting today?"

You heard nothing, then a sniffle? Is he crying?

"Hello?"

"Eddie? Are you okay?" You broke character when you heard his broken voice

"S-sweetheart" he said

Your eyes watered, you never heard him like this, he must be so sad

"W-what can I help you with?" Your voice trembled

"Y/n I-" he sobbed "I got robbed, someone emptied my account, I had 450 dollars saved for food and stuff and they're gone!"

You went into his account and saw it all

-356.90 Apple.com

-5.46 Amazon.com

-222.87 Uber

Available Balance -585.23

"Oh gosh, Eddie it's okay we'll fix this okay?"

"How will you fix this?! I was robbed! I don't use Apple, I don't even have an iPhone! I never buy shit from the internet and I have my own van so I don't use Uber! Y/n I'm fucked! I'm so fucked!"

"Eddie it's okay let's calm down and breathe okay? Breathe with me, inhale and exhale"

He did as you told him to and calmed down a little, he was still crying but now he wasn't yelling anymore

"I'm sorry for screaming at you" he said sobbing "But I really needed that money"

"I know Eddie, trust me I understand you, so I'm gonna help you okay? Now I need to contact disputes so they can file a claim on this, and your money will be back okay?"

"Really?" He had hope in his voice

"Yes, really"

"Thank you"

"You're welcome, nos stay on the line for me, I'll be right back"

You placed him on hold and called disputes

"Good morning and thank you for calling National Bank, my name is Michelle, how can I help you?"

"Hi this is Y/n from Hawkins"

"Oh hi Y/n, how are you?"

"I'm fine, you?"

"I'm doing great, what is your employee number?"

"It's xxxxxx"

"Last name?"

Y/l/n"

"Supervisor please"

"Joseph Quentin"

"Thank you, and how can I help?"

"My customer has transactions he doesn't recognize"

"I'll be more than glad to help, what's his social?"

"xxxxxxxxx, his name is Edward Munson, likes to be called Eddie only"

"Great, thanks, one moment"

You heard her typing on her computer and then she spoke again

"Which ones are they?"

"Apple, Amazon and Uber"

"I see them, you can put him through I'll be more than happy to help"

"Thanks"

You put all of you in conference and you heard him son again

"Hey Eddie, thanks for waiting in the line, I'm here with Michelle she'll take over the call and give you further assistance, thank you for being a valued-"

"Wait you're leaving?"

"Yes I'm sorry but she has to do her job and so do I-"

"Please don't go Y/n I can't-"

"Alright I'll take it from here, thank you Y/n you can leave now"

You huffed quietly

"Goodbye Eddie"

"No, no-"

You hung up the call leaving them alone, you couldn't stay on that call even if he begged you to, it's the rules

You sat back, placed yourself on After Call Work and cried a little

"Hey, hey, hey what's wrong?" Randall, one of the floor support people came to you "Are you okay?"

You shook your head "N-no..."

"Come on, let's go"

He logged you off and took you out to talk

Let's just say the day sucked...

~•~

A/n: I couldn't help myself so yes more angst! Eddie will be okay don't worry! Thanks for all the love <3

Taglist: @bbyhargrove @mystars123 @tiannamortis @kjaxm @eddiethesexy @kickstart-myheart-sixx @aftermidnightwriting @bratckerman

[hobeemin]

the visit

🦇 genre: angst, smut, supernatural, vampire au

🦇 pairing(s): vampire!kim hongjoong x (f)poc!reader x vampire!park seonghwa

🦇 rating: 18+

🦇 warning(s): biting, blood, restraints, blindfolds, dirty talk, kissing, lots of sensory deprivation

🦇 word count: 1k

🦇 credits: forgive me for any mistakes, this is getting posted unedited... i know i know, i never do that, but i wanted to write something for Halloween...but life lol

thank you to @beomcoups for looking this over 💜💜 thank you so much!

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

🦇 a/n:

for @kpopsblackcreatorsociety Halloween Event "Blood and Bane"

⤞ Category: vampires

⤞ Prompt(s): sensory play | blindfold

Lips traveled down her frame as goosebumps trailed behind. She let out a hiss as pointed teeth dragged across her bare chest. Squirming under the restraints wouldn’t stop them from their work; instead, it made them want to do more, push her to the edge.

If anyone had told her she’d be seduced by not one but two vampires on that night, she would have laughed in their faces. Because c’mon…vampires weren’t real. 

Oh, they indeed were. Meeting Hongjoong and Seonghwa was purely by chance. Y/N took a chance going to a BDSM event for the spooky season. It was simple: she signed up in interest and got an invitation immediately. As it was Halloween-themed, she needed a costume ASAP. It was a tie was between Selene from Underworld or Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman.

Catwoman won.

Walking into the party, she didn’t expect to join in on the first night. For her, it was an observation. Curiosity brought her there, but what she didn’t realize was that she grabbed the attention of the two men instantly. 

They could smell the purity on her. It was like a veil that embraced her. How fun would it be to dye it red?

Seonghwa appeared before her first. The usual antics, small talk, and whatnot. She was enamored, to say the least. Even under the dimmed lighting, she could tell he was breathtaking, even if he was covered head to toe in black. All she could see was his eyes, but that alone drew her in. 

“Love your costume,” he purred.

“T-Thank you,” she stammered out.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these. You new?”

“Y-Yes. My first time.”

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Welcome. I’m Seonghwa.”

“My name is Y/N.”

“Lovely name.”

“Seonghwa hogs the pretty ones,” a voice cooed behind her.

Y/N turned to see another man dressed identically to Seonghwa. He wasn’t as tall as him, but the power that radiated from him made her knees buckle. He returned her stare with equal amusement.

“I’m Hongjoong.”

“P-Pleased to meet you, Hongjoong.”

“Happy to have you as our guest tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “This is your party?!”

“Yes, it is. How do you like it so far?”

“I like it a lot,” she gushed out, “I mean, it’s something different I’ve never done.”

“Were you hoping to find something here, Y/N?” Hongjoong inquired.

She gulped once, then twice. They were so close. Why, under the lights and heat of the club, did she feel a chill go through her body? 

Seonghwa lifted her gloved hand into his, removing the mask over his mouth. His lips pressed onto her knuckles, making her knees buckle. 

“Well, little Kitty, are you ready to go down the rabbit hole?”

And so here she was after giving her consent. Body bare on display for only their eyes. Wrists restrained above her head with a silk tie wrapped around her eyes. Her other senses heightened as they worked their magic on her. She was like putty in their hands.

Seonghwa admired their handy work as he nodded at Hongjoong. 

“You’re a piece of art, Y/N,” Hongjoong whispered. “Don’t know how lucky you are to catch the attention of both of us.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. “This never happens, Kitten. We just want a little taste.”

Y/N rubbed her thighs together. Something about their words only caused her lust to grow. “Yes, please do,” she begged. “Use me how you want.”

A smile formed on Hongjoong’s face as two sharp fangs appeared. “With pleasure.”

He dropped to his knees, spreading her legs wide for him to see. His breath played on her skin as his lips and tongue traveled up to her inner thigh.

“So soft,” he murmured, “So sweet. And all ours.”

Y/N felt a prick as she winced, but soon the euphoria washed over her. A strangled moan spilled from her lips as Hongjoong lapped at the blood trickling down her legs, reveling in the taste. He made sure not to drain her. She was too good to get rid of so quickly. He bit down on his bottom lip, letting a few drops fall on the marks. They healed closed as he left a kiss on the place.

Seonghwa tapped his shoulder with a grin. 

“My turn.”

He closed, dragging his thumb across her lips. Y/N keened into the touch. “You’re so turned on, you don’t know what to do, hmm.”

“S-Seonghwa?”

“Hmm, needy for me, too. Oh look, Hongjoong, our little Kitten is addicted already.”

“Want me to kiss you love? Take your breath away?”

Her head bobbed as his lips grazed against her. His hands wrapped around her neck, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. If she weren’t being tied up, she would have dropped to the floor. He pulled away as she let out a whimper, moving to her neck to nip the skin gently. 

“Hongjoong says you’re delicious Kitten. May I have a taste as well?”

“P-Please.”

It happened so fast. His fangs pierced her shoulder, drawing out more nectar for him to feast on. Meanwhile, Hongjoong caressed her skin, whispering sweet promises in her ear.

Her body felt so alive. It was nothing like she ever felt before. She reacted so strongly to the men she came on just those actions alone, her hips bucking at nothing. Seonghwa licked the remnants, closing the wound. He nuzzled against her, kissing her earlobe.

“You are a treat, little Kitten.”

Hoongjoong hummed in agreement. “Don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

Seonghwa removed her restraints and blindfold, letting her rest on the bed as they brought her water to drink. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until the liquid flowed down her throat; her eyes adjusted to the lights in the room as the two men sat on the bed on each side of her.

“How do you feel?”

She placed the glass down and rested her head against the pillows. “Exhausted but invigorated at the same time.”

Hongjoong clicked his teeth. “It’s a long night, Kitten, and we’re hardly done with you.”

“What?”

Seonghwa chuckled darkly as his fangs slid into view. “Oh, little Kitten, you’re in for a treat.”

[aaronsrpgs]

DAWstruck

A Quick Look at Sci-Fi/Fantasy Publisher DAW and My Desire for Cheap Entertainment

If you've ever been to an American used bookstore, flea market, etc., you probably recognize the distinctively uniform yellow (or faded-to-brown) spines of the DAW books pictured above.

From Wikipedia: "DAW Books is an American science fiction and fantasy publisher, founded by Donald A. Wollheim, along with his wife, Elsie B. Wollheim, following his departure from Ace Books in 1971. The company claims to be 'the first publishing company ever devoted exclusively to science fiction and fantasy.'"

Wollheim was active in sci-fi publishing and fandom circles; he published the Ursula LeGuin's first two books at Ace, and as a youth, he was kicked out of the New York Science Fiction League club for getting a group of unpaid authors together to sue writer/publisher/organizer Hugo Gernsback after they weren't paid for published stories:

"It grieves us to announce that we have found the first disloyalty in our organization… These members we expelled on June 12th. Their names are Donald A. Wollheim, John B. Michel, and William S. Sykora—three active fans who just got themselves onto the wrong road."

I've worked in bookstores and libraries for decades, and my eyes always glossed over the shelves full of yellow spines. But I started to reconsider after listening to Sean at SFUltra talk about Electric Forest by Tanith Lee. (Once you're equally convinced, go back his Patreon, which is literally my favorite criticism on the internet.)

I started devouring Lee's work. In my opinion, she outstrips most of the "greats" of that era of sci-fi. Her prose is awesome, her plots are great fun, and she's prolific across science fiction and fantasy. Had I been sleeping on DAW Books? Were they all this good?!

They are not all that good.

DAW Books books run the gamut of sci-fi and fantasy, from alternate histories to barbarian tales to postmodern reactions to the post-war West. And taken as an overview of the sci-fi field at that time, they reflect the good (Tanith Lee) and the bad (libertarian cryto-fascism, coercive sex freaks, tired cliches).

So why am I writing about them? Because they represent a type of publisher that, as far as I know, doesn't really exist anymore. They published authors who'd never been published before, and they printed straight to paperback.

I have no idea if anyone was making a living being published by DAW, but I assume this was a foot in the door for lots of these authors. And the books were so cheap! The one I have on hand was $1.25 in 1976. Adjusted for inflation, that's $6.93.

And listen, I read difficult books. I read literary fiction and academic histories and complicated, confusing cross-genre works. But I also like to read trash! I think everyone deserves to read some trash. But I want that trash to be cheap and easily accessible.

And with modern publishers focusing on established authors and Next Big Things, it's hard to find trash! And when you do find it, it's often dressed up to look like a Next Big Thing and priced accordingly.

Please give me more cheap trash.

And god, look at those covers. Again, I don't know if any painters were making a living by selling work to DAW, but they were definitely putting in the work. You got classic Frazetta horniness, you got '70s psychedelia, you got "what if the Bible was weirder?" classicism.

I want to decorate my walls with these.

The nice part is that they're mostly shorter than 200 pages, and I've never spent more than $5 on one of these, and I can usually find them even cheaper. So next time you're at a library sale and you see a faded yellow DAW spine, take a closer look.

Just stay away from Gor.

(DAW is still in business today, as a subsidiary of Astra House Publishing. I would say they occupy the same spheres as Tor: popular, readable, and usually left-of-center science fiction and fantasy. Such as The Forever Sea, a sapphic ecological fantasy book about sailors on a sea of plants. They cost, unfortunately, more than $7.)

[zinniajones]

Michelle, Phillip, and Denise:

Below are the five topics related to transgender/gender identity issues our group has been discussing. As you know, Alliance Defending Freedom is seeking medical, biological, and/or psychological experts to research and write on these topics. We would like “white papers,” for lack of a better term, written on each topic. These papers should be empirically/data based, yet written in a manner that the general public can easily digest. Here is an example of the type of paper we have in mind. As I mentioned on our last call, topics 1, 2, and 3 are the most pressing. If there is any way to get papers completed on those topics by mid-November, that would be terrific. If they can get done earlier, even better.

Thank you in advance for your willingness to assist on this project, and to link us with others who may be able to assist as well. Please let me know if you have any questions.

1) Substantiate the psychological harm that can befall both sexes (but girls/women especially) by having their right to bodily privacy invaded by males. Can lead to fear; body image anxiety/complex; other long-term psychological harms.

2) Substantiate that it is normal during adolescence for children to go through a phase when they identify (to some degree) with the opposite sex. It is inappropriate (and could have psychological, medical, other harms?) to interpret this common stage as gender identity confusion that warrants treating a child as the opposite sex (in language, dress, appearance, etc), and pursuing more drastic measures like hormone therapy and genital change surgery.

3) Substantiate the physiological differences between males and females as they relate to sports. Explain that when transgender or gender identity confused boys are permitted to try out for girls’ sports teams that the girls are necessarily disadvantaged. We want to make the point that interpreting Title IX to include protections for “gender identity” will harm girls by allowing boys to displace girls on competitive sports teams.

4) For those who have undergone hormone therapy and genital change surgery, a paper that says they are no happier (and perhaps worse off if the research supports it) even though they took these drastic measures.

5) Biological/medical paper on the many differences (brain, anatomy, physiology, etc) between the sexes from the earliest stages of human development and moving forward. This would help substantiate the point that a person’s brain is not and cannot be hard-wired to be an opposite sex than the sex his or her chromosomes, DNA, and anatomy say he or she is.

– This paper could also deal with intersex and other anomalies and explain why these exceptions do not undermine the rule.

– This paper could also include the point that no matter how many hormones a person takes, and no matter if they have genital change surgery, they are still biologically, physiologically, etc their birth sex. For example, a transgender man will still go through menopause.

-ADF ordering up anti-trans arguments from the American College of Pediatricians

[bepoets]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

TRISH PLEASE THERES 40 ROSES HERE🤣😭 instead of giving you 40 sentences from one WIP I’m gonna give you 4 sentences for 10 different ted/rebecca fic WIPs because why not😌 under a read more because it is terribly long lol

1. a little something from my kind of sort of not really Matilda au!!

She’s looking up at Rebecca with wide eyes, glistening with tears. Her eyes remind Rebecca very suddenly of Ted’s. They’re the same warm brown, filled with a hopefulness she has grown to associate with only Ted. One look at the girl’s big, pleading eyes and Rebecca knows, if this was her child she’d never be able to say no to her.

2. from a post canon thing about Ted being depressed in Kansas and Rebecca drunk calling him in the middle of the night

“Move on from who?” The question is out of his mouth before he even has a chance to really think it over and realize exactly how stupid it was to ask that, on a variety of different levels.

Rebecca groans, and he can picture her with her fingertips pressed to her temples.

“This was a mistake. I am not supposed to tell you.”

3. from another post canon thing where Ted starts dreaming about past moments with a Rebecca but through a Very Romantic Lens and he has a tizzy about it

“Good dreams, then?”

He starts to nod his head in agreement before shaking it in a staunch no, only to stop a second after to stare off into space again. His eyes glued to a wall just beyond his phone where Sharon is pulled up on a video call.

4. from rusty swing fic my beloved that I haven’t worked on in Months oh god I’m so sorry rusty swing fic, I’ll come back to you one day

She knows that every time they have a disagreement, whether she bears the brunt of the blame or not, her parents simply wait her out. Let her stew in her displeasure for a few hours, days, weeks. Until they’ve decided — without any input from Rebecca herself — that everything is back to normal.

Sometimes she thinks maybe they can only really hear her when she’s yelling.

5. a little missed connections soulmate au

By the time she’s twenty Rebecca’s heard just about every romantic iteration of a soulmate bond taking place. It’s supposed to be life changing, a moment you can feel throughout your entire body. The stars aligning and a moment of pure magic in an ordinary world.

She supposes it only makes sense that the whole thing would be rather anticlimactic in the end.

6. something from a post s2e6 soulmate au because I like seeing how many soulmate aus I can write without finishing any😌

She wants to cradle his face in her hands and breathe kindness and safety into him. To shine a little flashlight when he’s trapped in the darkest places, waiting with her arms wide open for whenever he’s ready. She wants to warm his hands in hers and help stitch up every wound that lingers on his heart. Even if it should leave her own hands stained and bloody.

7. in which Michelle and Henry assumed Ted & Rebecca were dating. So obviously the only logical reaction is for Ted & Rebecca to pretend to date.

He should be paying attention, he wants to be paying attention. He’d love nothing more than to be able to hear what’s going on, but the ringing won’t stop. It’s a dull but persistent hum clouding over all his senses. The only thoughts rattling through his mind are the words Michelle said just before everything went all fuzzy.

8. from my little combination gala & wedding fic that Henry has wormed his way into out of nowhere

The dark green dress apparently looks like the color of split pea and ham soup, and Henry makes her swear on her morning biscuit delivery that she won’t wear that one. She tries to show it a little support, the color may be unfortunate but the dress is in a cut she absolutely loves. But Henry only shakes his head and says “it’s the worst color of all, Becca, you gotta promise.” And so she does, holding out her pinky finger for Henry to hook his around.

9. excerpt from a little thing that has no plot beyond Rebecca being sexy when she’s bossy

“Can you?” Rebecca’s tongue slips out of the corner of her mouth, wets her lips, and now she’s smirking and fuck. Ted can’t look away. Every thought completely gone, focused entirely on how enticing her lips look.

But Ted’s pretty sure she asked him a question. And he’s never been one to keep a pretty lady waiting, even if his brain is a bit scrambled at the moment.

10. from a weird little fantasy medieval Rebecca as a queen Ted as a baker in town type thing

It isn’t one of the nights where his deepest worries and fears are running through his mind like a hoard of wild horses. It’s a perfectly normal night, after a perfectly normal day. His hands are not trembling, and he takes each breath with remarkable ease. He’s counted sheep, he’s recited recipes in his head, he’s even hummed a lullaby — or five — all to no avail.

[mdronebarger]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Girl's Maddie & Michelle dress Size 5.

[brands4you]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Emma & Michele Women's Dress Medium Black Gray Multi-color Striped.

[crowdvscritic]

round up // FEBRUARY + MARCH 23

February and March are strange months for a film enthusiast. One part of you is excited to start seeing new, star-studded studio movies on the big screen: 80 for Brady! Ant-Man and the Wasp! Cocaine Bear! Creed! But it’s also when the previous year’s films are wrapping their season with the final hurrah of a new, star-studded Oscars. In the case of Everything Everywhere All at Once, it means we spent a full year discussing and dissecting this year’s Best Picture winner! Much of this Round Up is dedicated to 2023 releases, though as always, you can find throwbacks to ‘30s, ’80s, and ‘00s flicks I missed till now, plus a few other media forms such as stage and page (as always, in a rough order of when I experienced them). But before we start building 2023’s Best Of lists, make sure you don’t miss these highlights from this year’s Oscars, which was a mostly refreshing return to (non-slappy) form: 

Hugh Grant on the Red Champagne Carpet - Sometimes people refuse to play the game, and the result is glorious (Kudos to Ashley Graham for keeping her composure!)

Jimmy Kimmel’s monologue - While he’s not afraid to take some shots, he actually seems to be rooting for the movies and the Oscars to succeed, which is not something I can say for the last year’s trio of hosts

Ke Huy Quan wins Best Supporting Actor - Perhaps the best speech of the night

Jamie Lee Curtis wins Best Supporting Actress - If not him, then it’s this one

Navalny wins Best Documentary - If you want to get political in your acceptance, please refer to this well-executed speech

Jenny the Donkey from The Banshees of Inisherin!

A performance of “Naatu Naatu” from RRR - If you want to perform at the Oscars, please refer to this well-executed one from the RRR crew

Lady Gaga performs “Hold My Hand” - The gal never misses in finding new ways to innovate on her performances

Michelle Yeoh wins for Best Actress - Best Actress and best-dressed of the night

Now on to the Best of 2023 so far!

February + March Crowd-Pleasers

1. Cookies: The New Classics by Jesse Szewczyk (2021)

A co-worker gifted me this for Christmas, and not one recipe has been a dud yet. The book categorizes 100 creative cookie and cookie-adjacent recipes into Boozy, Chocolatey, Fruity, Nutty, Savory, Smoky, Spiced, and Tart chapters so you can find just what you want for each season. Many of them are not-too-difficult, and the photography is both beautiful and actually similar to what comes out of my oven. My favorite recipes so far include Berry Blast Marbled Sugar Cookies, Chewy Triple-Spiced Sugar Cookies, Chipotle Fudge Squares with Crunchy Raw Sugar, Chocolate Chunk Oatmeal Cookie Bars, Lavender Chocolate Chunk Cookies, and Salt-and-Vinegar Potato Chip Cookies. 

2. 80 for Brady (2023)

Together the 5 leads have won 5 Oscars, 12 Emmys, 2 Grammys, 3 Tonys, and 7 Super Bowl rings, so even though the script is a corny underdog story about people who have not been underdogs in ages, 80 for Brady a feel-good winner. Read my full review for ZekeFilm. 

3. Double Feature - ‘80s Comedies: Fletch (1985) + Troop Beverly Hills (1989)

In Fletch (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), Chevy Chase works as an undercover reporter who gets caught up in a conspiracy so complex and silly I couldn’t do it justice here. In Troop Beverly Hills (8.5/10 // 7/10), Shelley Long works as a troop leader for a knockoff Girl Scout Troop who gets up in cookie selling schemes so creative and silly I couldn’t do it justice here either. More fun from the best decade for Hollywood comedies!

4. Enough (2002)

A subgenre I’ve yet to tire of: thrillers about abused women getting the last word. (See also: Double Jeopardy with Ashley Judd and Sleeping With the Enemy with Julia Roberts.) Perhaps it was because my entire thought process in watching this was, “It’s on Netflix, why not?” but J. Lo’s take on the subgenre brought enough clever twists and empowering moments to become a surprising success. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

5. Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (2023)

The third Ant-Man reminds us Paul Rudd is one of the funniest actors alive and it’s kicking off Phase 5 of the MCU with the momentum missing from Phase 4. Read the triple-shot review I wrote with two other critics at ZekeFilm. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

6. Cocaine Bear (2023)

Cocaine Bear lives up to what you’d expect from its title, and like some of the most fun hits of the ‘80s and ‘90s, it’s all-in on the silly, one-note premise with no desire for sequels, spin-offs, or universes. Read my full review for ZekeFilm.  Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

7. M3GAN (2023)

I consider horror about creepy dolls off-limits, but M3GAN is hardly horror, and its doll is so over-the-top she’s hilarious. There’s a little bit of thoughtful commentary about our dependence on technology, but mostly it’s an excuse for pure entertainment. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

8. John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023)

I’ve always been cool on John Wick. In fact, I turned off the first one in the middle when I first tried it almost a decade ago because its violence felt gratuitous. But fourth time’s a charm? Maybe it’s because of its visual flair or perhaps it’s because it feels like director Chad Stahelski and Keanu Reeves were going for broke, but this nearly-three hour epic won me over. The movie it most reminded me of? Singin’ in the Rain of all things. The fight choreography is as inventive and athletic as “Moses Supposes,” turning the action thriller into an art form. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

9. Your Place or Mine (2023)

Corny? Formulaic? Yes and yes. But Aline Brosh McKenna’s directorial debut delivers charm in spades, meaning it more than exceeds the Netflix rom-com average threshold (a low bar to be sure). Contrary to the buzz, Ashton Kutcher and Reese Witherspoon make believable BFFs and a couple to root for. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

10. The Golden Girls (1985-92)

Every day I get closer to my true, spiritual age of 83, and after the silliness of 80 for Brady, I decided it was time to binge the silly-but-slightly-more-caustic The Golden Girls. Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, and Sophia’s jokes and adventures in their Miami bungalow remind me of my days rooming with my college besties, and it gives me hope that one day I’ll get to experience something as joyful, messy, intimate, and, yes, silly as their friendship all over again.

February + March Critic Picks

1. HRH: So Many Thoughts on Royal Style by Elizabeth Holmes (2020)

In September, I shared my appreciation for Elizabeth Holmes’s fashion and culture commentary in the wake of another Elizabeth’s passing. I received her coffee table-worthy book for Christmas, and her insight into how the Queen, Princess Diana, and at-time-of-publication Duchesses Kate and Meghan use their wardrobes to speak for causes and for themselves doesn’t disappoint. They have all become style icons not just because of their titles but because of their sartorial choices, and Holmes helps pinpoint why and how alongside a robust and beautiful collection of photography.

2. Triple Feature - Classic Screwball Rom-Coms: Libeled Lady (1936) + The Mad Miss Manton (1938) + The Palm Beach Story (1942)

In Libeled Lady (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10), Jean Harlow, Myrna Loy, William Powell, and Spencer Tracy get mixed up in a love quadrangle when a socialite threatens to sue the paper for libel. In The Mad Miss Manton (8/10 // 8.5/10), Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda team up (against their wills) in proto-Legally Blonde style to solve a murder. And in The Palm Beach Story (8/10 // 8.5/10), Claudette Colbert and Joel McCrea plan to divorce so they can marry wealthier people. Don’t worry—in spite of all the mixups and shenanigans, everybody ends up with just the right person in all three of these comedies.

3. Creed III (2023)

In the middle, I found myself thinking, “This is what Hollywood entertainment for adults should be!” Yes, there’s a place for 80 for Brady, Ant-Man, and Cocaine Bear, but Creed builds its stakes on character instead of gimmicks or elevator pitches. Read the full review I tag teamed with fellow ZekeFilm writer Erik Yates.  Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10

4. To Kill a Mockingbird National Tour

Perhaps the highest praise possible for this show came from my TKAM-devotee mother: She has some nitpicks about the changes Aaron Sorkin made on Harper Lee’s novel, but she liked this better than her Broadway viewing. Since I am closer to a devotee of Sorkin than Lee, I found most of the updates thoughtful and fresh for a text that saturates our culture.

5. The Parallax View (1974)

A political thriller in the frame of a journalist uncovering a conspiracy? Hmm…Alan J. Pakula really has my number. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

6. Boston Strangler (2023)

Speaking of journalism thrillers, I’m not into true crime, but Queen Keira makes me to step outside my comfort zone. In her most exciting part in years, Knightley plays a reporter investigating a series of homicides at a third-rate Boston newspaper. She and Carrie Coon team up against workplace sexism and the strangler himself to get the truth out. It’s a real homage to Zodiac, but a solid one at that. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

7. A Good Person (2023) 

If Garden State was Gen X coping with the reality that the American Dream couldn’t protect them from the pain their parents avoided in a pre-9/11 world, A Good Person is Millennials and Gen Z realizing the American Dream has betrayed them. Read my full review for ZekeFilm. Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

8. Captain Blood (1935)

I had no idea when I fired up this Errol Flynn/Olivia de Havilland adventure it’s basically a prototype for Pirates of the Caribbean—what a treat! How do the action, sets, and special effects look better than most adventure films today? Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

9. Australia (2008)

And now I have watched all of Baz Luhrmann’s lush, extravagant, colorful canon. In prep for the Faraway Downs miniseries he is making with never-before-seen footage from this shoot, I finally checked out the Hugh Jackman/Nicole Kidman World War II epic. As usual for Baz, it’s a little shaggy, but it’s also part of what I love about him. Every movie feels like a realized vision of texture and emotion, and Australia is no exception. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

10. John Mayer Solo

Come for the heartbreaking tunes and stay for Mayer’s delightfully awkward banter between songs. At our show he performed a retrospective of his career on guitar on piano and debuted a new song. While I enjoy a razzle-dazzle show, he’s proof you don’t need to rely on gimmicks in an arena.

Also in February + March…

In preparation for the Oscars, I reviewed Best Picture nominee Triangle of Sadness (which I had previously recommended in my last Round Up, which is why it’s not listed above). Like Best Picture winner Parasite, part of the fun of Triangle of Sadness is its surprises, but if you want to get a preview, you can read my review for ZekeFilm. 

Kyla and I also checked out the 1977 Best Picture nom The Turning Point, a ballet melodrama starring Anne Bancroft, Mikhail Baryshnikov, and Shirley MacLaine in ep. 136. And in ep. 135, we watched classic TV medical shows Marcus Welby, M.D. and ER.  

Photo credits: Cookies, HRH, To Kill a Mockingbird. John Mayer my own. All others IMDb.com.

[academyguide]

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[moon3thereal]

I have a request with Nat x reader. It’s a party at the compound and nobody has ever seen Nat drunk but this night she was completely gone like blackout drunk. So you end up having to carry her to her room and take care of her but she accidentally admits her love for you, you end up sleeping on the armchair in the room and in the morning you wake up to a Nat that’s throwing up on the floor, at first she don’t remember shit but later during the day she remembered what she said and gets really flustered and embarrassed but it ends I fluff reader admits her love for Nat to

Title: Drunken Confessions

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request! happy reading <3

1.4k

Everyone knew Tony Stark loved the glamour of his extravagant parties often threw in the Avengers tower. Everyone also knew that while everyone else got batshit drunk, the black widow never got even slightly tipsy after several rounds of drinking games when everyone else was drunk enough to strip to their undergarments and start pole dancing. She always only watched with a hint of amusement glinting in her emerald eyes

That led to the bet going on amongst the other Avengers, Tony threw in a solid 500 dollars to whoever got Natasha drunk while the others put in smaller amounts. Thor had been lurking around with a smug grin for a whole 5 minutes since the party had started, you had no doubt that he’d been up to no good and opted not to touch the alcohol at the bar for tonight.

Spotting a certain redhead, you sidled up to the bar in your new dress that you definitely haven’t bought to impress her and new heels that again, you definitely didn’t buy to awe her. “Someone put in effort for tonight’s party” Natasha said, dropping her gaze to your heels and all the way up until she met your eyes “trying to impress someone?” she winked teasingly. Damn it, were you that obvious “Steve maybe?” she pressed, seating yourself on one of the rotatable, red leather stools you laughed “I don’t swing that way”

Natasha hummed in acknowledgement “me neither” she said. You turned to look at her so quickly that you thought you may have given yourself whiplash “Then…You and Bruce?” you asked cautiously “there’s a reason that didn’t work out” she said, taking a sip of her martini and sending her glass a peculiar look “you’re new?” she asked the bartender “no ma’am I’ve been working here for three years” Natasha’s lips formed into a silent ‘oh’ and you stifled a laugh

After a few more glasses of alcohol, Natasha was clearly very drunk, the rest of the avengers who hadn’t seen Thor’s expression of obvious smugness had drunk the alcohol unknowingly too and Tony and Steve were challenging each other to a dance off. In their boxers. You watched with amusement and second-hand embarrassment. Meanwhile, the Russian that was the heart of all this chaos was standing across the room apparently having an argument with Clint about whether the walls are green or red. The walls are white. Then it suddenly clicked in your mind, the only alcohol that could get her so shockingly drunk, Asgardian liquor

Of course, why hadn’t you thought about it before. Thor was incredibly competitive even if he didn’t look it. You continued sitting aside from all the havoc erupting on the party floor taking tentative sips from the water you’d brought, keeping an eye on Natasha before she does something stupid. Normally that was her job, unbeknownst to you, Natasha always looked out for you during Tony’s parties, knowing your alcohol tolerance wasn’t exactly high.

Glancing at the clock, you could see that it was almost 3 in the morning and the noises had died down and all the Avengers were splayed out on the couch only half awake, Natasha was half laid half seated on two bar stools barely keeping herself upright. Deciding that you really didn’t want her to fall off and give herself a concussion, you tugged at her sleeve “come on Nat, we’re going back to your bedroom” she smirked at you with her painted lips which were normally perfect but tonight, they were slightly smudged, you liked the look on her though

“Bedroom? Getting frisky already y/l/n?” you raised your eyebrows while helping her off the chair and draping your jacket around her shoulders “getting concerned about how drunk you are” you corrected. Natasha hummed and after a few steps let her head slump onto your shoulder, you were half supporting and half carrying her but you were glad she wasn’t sober right now because your heart was probably going a million miles a minute, her hair smelt so nice, her tresses were gently tickling your neck

Caught up in your thoughts you had to abruptly steer Natasha towards her bedroom before she walked directly into a wall. Practically dumping her onto the bed with a huff from the exertion of dragging her all the way back to her room, you pulled off her heels and hung up the jacket “I love y/n, don’t you think she’s just so pretty, she’s so smart too and how she fights, it’s soooo hot” she slurred and your cheeks heated up.

You were ready to dismiss it as a hallucination, you had feelings for the redhead, you’d been harboring them for a good 2 months because you thought they’d never be reciprocated. But Natasha turned to you “do you think she likes me too?” she asked “yeah, yeah I’m sure she does” you whispered. Natasha seemed to hear it, she sighed contentedly and let her eyes close. Making your way out of the room, you heard her say “stay” it was barely a whisper but you heard it and you could never refuse her

So you slumped onto her chair with your chin supported by the heel of your hand just appreciating how gorgeous she looked even blackout drunk, ginger hair all over the place and smudged makeup. It sounded creepy but you were really just taking the advantage of being able to stare at her now before she’s sober again tomorrow and your act of indifference had to come up again.

You didn’t know at what point you fell asleep but you woke up to Natasha rushing to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet. Hastily pulling her hair back into a ponytail, you rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. She glanced up at you when she was done and flushed the toilet “why are you here?” she asked while rinsing her mouth in the sink and holding a hand to her head while wincing. You tried to hide your disappointment, last night it was the alcohol speaking, not her, it didn’t even make sense that she would remember it, really. “you couldn’t stay on your feet on your own, let alone walk back to your room, I wanted to make sure you were okay so I slept in that armchair” you gestured to the armchair at the corner of her room

“You didn’t have to do that” she said “but I’m glad you did, thank you” sending you a tired smile. You squeezed her shoulder “I’m gonna go make some breakfast you want some?” you asked at her doorway “please” she said while removing the makeup from the night before. You nodded and made your way to the kitchen

Once you step foot in the kitchen, you saw Thor with a triumphant smile on his face and the rest of the Avengers grumbling, you slapped a 50 dollar note on the table, shaking your head amusedly as you passed by. Thor’s grin widened further as he stuffed the money into his pocket. There were pancakes in the pan, courtesy of Wanda most probably. You put two each on separate plates, slathering Nutella on yours and drizzling syrup on Natasha’s. you made some coffee and poured out two mugs

When you came back to the table, Natasha was already seated wearing a hoodie, one of yours you realized with a skip of your heartbeat, and sweatpants. Setting the plate and mug of coffee in front of her, you took a seat and dug in.

It was only in the afternoon when you and Natasha were working on reports that her cheeks suddenly went pink and she stared at you with an expression of mortification. You frowned at her sudden distress and walked over to her “what’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely concerned. “last night, what I said, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t, I mean, I do feel that way, but if you don’t it’s completely understandable and I-” you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers, the feeling of her lips against yours was heavenly, they were soft and tasted like her vanilla and cherry chapstick.

“I love you too” you whispered slightly dazed from the fact that you’d just kissed Natasha and that she hadn’t pulled away “show me how much” she said and kissed you again.

Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley

[timextoxhajima]

Accelerate [Dana’s 600 Special]

Track: Feel It by Michele Morrone / Drunk-Dazed by ENHYPHEN / Insanity by THE BOYZ

Member: I swear he’s not even my bias

Genre: i-ion know-

Word Count: it’s pretty damn long so please don’t make me write a part two

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal​ @lsangyeons​

The first time you laid eyes on Lee Hyunjae, you were both in Italy as he was being blinded by a billion flashes in his face. The light reflects off his dark hair - which was once a brighter color - as he maintains that polite, miniscule smile on his face. Most of the photographers and interviewers were male, for the sole reason that female photographers and interviewers would be too stunned to continue at their job. 

Not that the males rushing to get a shot of his face or a string of words out from him now weren’t stunned themselves. 

Despite being hailed for looking like every woman’s wet dream, Lee Hyunjae was more known for being South Korea’s youngest first class F1 racer. Sure, if he ever bothered to utter a single syllable of speech to you, you could pass out on the spot. 

But right now, all you wanted was to get an exclusive modelling contract from Louis Vuitton to his manager. Not Lee Hyunjae, not his bodyguards, his manager.

“Lee Hyunjae! Do you have anything you want to say before your final race of the season? How do you feel about being so close to coming out top?”

His manager stands a step behind him to Hyunjae’s right, and gives the racer the green light to respond. The flashes and sounds of clicking from the cameras were so overwhelming, it’s impossible for you to even imagine how it felt like being in the spotlight.

But the celebrity couldn’t receive the question any less gracefully, and offers one of those swoon-worthy smiles before leaning into the microphone.

“I feel nervous but I’ve prepared for this. Consistency is key and I believe in myself, so if that answers your question...” 

“Do you have any other plan other than racing? Word has it that you’ve received offers to be the face of Gucci and Louis Vuitton!”

The contract in your briefcase is still ironed out safely in its file when you pull it behind your legs, away from plain sight.

Hyunjae turns to look at his manager when the question posed obviously isn’t one of those in the list prepared, so the manager steps forward, and coincidentally spots you at the back of the crowd. He recognises you from the meeting he had with your higher-up.

“My apologies but Mr Lee isn’t permitted to answer to any of these, so if this is all then we must be going. Thank you for coming to the conference tonight.” 

Lee Hyunjae and his manager step back away from the microphone and bow for the press to continue their aggressive, merciless snapshotting. You wait patiently for the duo to disappear behind the conference area, and for the press to switch their attention to the pictures they have on their camera before you make your round backstage. 

The 5-star hotel is grand in all the ways possible: chandelier, white wines and champagnes being served in waiting areas and water was served sparkling. Finally fishing out the tag that you were given at the registration for entry to the event, you hand it to the lady at the meetings’ conference registration counter.

You wonder how the Louis Vuitton logos on your clothes and briefcase had gone unnoticed earlier at the showcase. Even on the tag, the ‘LV’ logo was so apparent. How far does the company need to go in order for them to have the logo printed in some shiny, golden print on the tag-

“Welcome to the F1 internal press conference and meeting, Miss l/n!” She pulls a sticker off a page and presses it onto the tag below the LV logo. “If you need anything at all, please just approach one of our staffs. All waiters and staff concerned will have a red tie tonight.”

“Alright, thank you,” The tag gets slid across the table to you. “Where’s the nearest washroom?”

“Oh, she’ll show you the way,” The lady gestures behind her for one of the staff members with a red tie to accompany you. 

“Oh-” Slightly taken aback by the aggressive escorting, the younger female grins at you before holding out her arm in the direction of the washroom. “Thanks.”

The hotel’s grandeur only gets more and more apparent as your heels click through the hallways and corridors. For an event night, the hotel’s pretty desolate. Then again, the press conference happened outside where all the photographers and journalists were. The one you were here for was an internal press meeting, and last you checked, there were fewer than 10 names on that list. 

“I can find my way back to the main hall after,” The slight panic in your voice humors you when the staff member seemed ready to wait outside the washroom. “Thanks.”

She bows and takes her leave only after you enter the bathroom; you can tell from the sound of her shoes echoing down the corridor. The scent of lavender is so overwhelming, you could almost taste it. Walls of cream and silver strokes cut through the tiles, a vase made of bronze sits in the corner of the platform where the sinks were, filled with roses.

The crisp reflection of yourself stares down at you in the mirror; it’s one of the few times you were dressed in branded goods head to toe. None of the articles of clothing you were wearing right now, you owned. Usually, you’d be gaping in awe at how beautiful these places where - after all, you were in a five-star hotel in Italy. 

But no, after almost five years of working with Louis Vuitton as a brand ambassador and subsequently becoming an assistant model-scout has numbed your habit of wandering eyes. 

The LV briefcase gets set on a dry area of marble, your fingers automatically clutching the edges of the sink as the jewelry on your ears, neck and hands twinkle under the fluorescent lighting. The makeup looks close to perfect - because someone had done it for you. Your clothes and shoes fit right down to your skin - because they were tailored for you. 

You were more upset you couldn’t sell it off and donate the money over having actual ownership of these fabrics. 

News of the orphanage had reached you hours after you touched down in Italy, and your heart yearns to stop the ache that seeps through you. They had run out of funds to continue the orphanage, the kids already enrolled would be split and sent to other organizations instead. 

What you had once called your home was going to be non-existent in another years’ time. Those whom you called your teachers, mentors, parents... were going to be in places you were not familiar with. The children that you always bring back food, clothes and toys for were going to be separated into different cities and states. As if not having a family was not bad enough, the people you now called your family was going to be split apart. 

You hadn’t noticed your eyes were closed until you opened them, the weight of the makeup on your face urging you to rub your eyes and skin but the discipline written into your hands stop you from doing so. 

Standing back to fix your posture, your eyes land on the one garnish on your body that doesn’t belong to Louis Vuitton - the ring on your middle finger. A gold band that looked more like a wedding ring than anything else. 

It had the name of the orphanage engraved on the inner side, so it feels lighter on your hands than it would otherwise be. 

A deep breath expands your chest as you take your briefcase and step away from the sink, attention scrutinising yourself more than you actually would.

The corridors of the hotel collect you back into its wealth again, drawing the thickest line between the realities of people like you and those who enjoy the luxurious life. 

The racer’s manager was sitting at the end of the meeting table when you enter, and you immediately recognise half the list of names you had seen before. Gucci’s manager was here personally. Another racer and his manager were here too. Stefano Domenicali and Michael Masi were here. 

Why were they here? Their names weren’t on the list.

“Ah, Miss l/n!” Masi gets off his seat and holds out his hand. “Such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Honor on my part,” Reaching out a palm, you smile the most graceful smile you can find in the muscles of your face. 

“Can I get you a drink? We’re still waiting for Mr Lee before we begin our discussion on the collaboration.”

Collaboration?

“Pardon my ignorance but... I thought I was here for a sponsorship or a model-contract request for Mr Lee... I wasn’t expecting your attendance or... a collaboration.”

Domenicalli chuckles heartily at his seat as he whirls around to gesture to one of the staff members in the room. “Will you get her a Mojito?” 

Then he stands up and pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “We’ve been looking for a company that’s willing to do a three-way partnership with us and Mr Lee’s agency. Right now, it’s boiled down to both Louis Vuitton and Gucci so... it depends on which contract Mr Lee’s agency is more interested in.”

“Oh... Um, if that’s the case then I’m not entirely sure if the contract I have with me right now is appropriate-”

“Oh, it’s not. LV has already told us you’d sell them better unscripted than if planned,” Masi leans forward and mutters away from your ear. “Don’t tell Gucci though. Their manager’s only here because they panicked.”

He pulls away and before he can say anything else, the door clicks open with a staff member pushing the door open for the star of the night. 

“My apologies,” He’s changed out of his formal suit and is in a more comfortable set of hoodie and baggy pants now. “Did I keep everybody waiting?”

“No, not at all!” Masi throws his hands up into the air and beckons you to meet Lee Hyunjae. “Might I introduce... Miss l/n from LV. She’ll be the one pitching the collaboration for LV today.”

Hyunjae’s eyes are wide and clear, despite his fringe covering his eyelids. “My pleasure,” He holds out his hand and you take it to shake, but he doesn’t stop there.

Lifting the back of your hand to his lips, the contact is soft and gentle on your skin. 

Your hairs stand against your will and goosebumps erupt all over your neck when he pulls away, eyes now locked with yours. Nobody else in the room bothers to provide a reaction - it’s like he’s done this before and it’s perfectly normal. 

The rest of the evening is spent listening to your own pitch, and Gucci’s, but you couldn’t really keep your head in the game when... all that was in Lee Hyunjae’s head was... you.

You’d be lying had you said you were comfortable with how much he was glancing at you across the table, obviously not listening to Gucci’s pitch at all. His manager was the one busy jotting down all kinds of things, almost like it was an act of dictation. But the racer’s eyes fail to leave you for any longer than five seconds, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that he wasn’t really paying attention to the pitch. 

Gucci’s pitch finally finishes, giving you some kind of escape because now his manager is pummeling him for not listening to the benefits provided as Gucci’s ambassador. The contract document from LV was sitting before you, very single term and condition now inapplicable because you had just pitched something that wasn’t in the instruction manual.

God help me not to get fired.

“Mr Lee has some to a decision,” Masi claps his hands together, earning the attention of everybody in the room. “The Formula One federation would like to officially welcome Lee Hyunjae as the brand ambassador in a stellar collaboration... with Gucci.”

The Gucci ambassador scout smiles with triumph as the room provides a round of applause, you included. 

“Thank you so much, Miss l/n, for coming down. Your pitch was nothing short of commendable and I will make sure your manager will hear of that, alright?” Masi and Domenicali take turns shaking your hand. In your peripheral vision, you watch the Gucci ambassador shake hands with both Lee Hyunjae and his manager. 

Masi and Domenicali finish up with you, and Lee Hyunjae’s manager approaches you for the handshake with his client behind him. “That was a stellar... impromptu pitch, Miss l/n.”

A gentle chuckle rolls off your tongue as you pull your hand away, tightly clutching the briefcase. “I work better when things aren’t planned, so...”

“We’ll... we’ll keep in touch, LV. You’re an excellent scout with marvelous presentation skills. It makes me sad Mr Lee didn’t choose you.”

Your eyes drift to Hyunjae’s and he’s already looking at you like he hadn’t eaten in three days and you were a bowl of soup.

“Of course we’ll keep in touch. He’ll still be valuable asset and ambassador after his contract with Gucci ends,” Ignoring him, you return your attention to his manager. 

“Now, let’s hope the Prince of Korea doesn’t screw anything up, yeah?” His manager grins as he pats Hyunjae on the back. “Anyway, it’s been a mighty pleasure. We’ll be in touch.”

You lower your head as a small nod, turning on your heels to exit the room. Even then you can feel his eyes on your back. 

By the time you’re back in your hotel room (which was in the same hotel as you had the internal meeting), your feet are half dead from the heels you were wearing and the makeup on your face was starting to wear off. It took a nice, warm bath and a rather long conversation with your own manager on the phone as he congratulated on pulling through an impromptu pitch. 

He finally finishes, and you drop your phone into the towel by the bathtub as the steam fogs up the mirror. But your peace is cut short when someone rings the doorbell of your room. 

“Room service for Miss l/n!”

Tightening the robe around your waist, you pull open the door and watch the hotel staff hold out a bottle of wine and an envelop. “Mr Lee Hyunjae sends his regards, Miss.”

Surprised, you receive the bottle. The hotel staff bows and leaves, letting you turn around and the door click shut. 

To: Miss l/n

I apologise for the inappropriate staring earlier this evening. This is an attempt to compensate for my behaviour. I’ll be leaving Italy the day after tomorrow so if you could do me the pleasure of having dinner with me tomorrow... I’d like to be acquainted.

I’ve made a reservation at La Terrazza for 7pm. I’ll meet you in the guest lobby downstairs at 6.30 to pick you up. 

Love, 

Lee Hyunjae

You can see how the material of the paper trembles a little between your fingers. The thought runs, So he’s a creep and a national treasure. He can’t hurt you, right?

Again, the evening gown is more than fitting on you. It’s been tailored to hug all your curves at your chest and your hips and thighs and it exposes your leg where the slit is. It’s like LV knew you had an important evening appointment coming up and had you pack all these different sets appropriate for the event. 

The usher standing by the guest lobby nods when you head for the door, and he pushes it open to reveal only one person in it: Lee Hyunjae. 

On the phone, he whirls around when he hears the doors swish against the carpet flooring. His eyes are glimmering under the soft, rosy lighting and the glossy collar of his suit looks like plastic from the reflection. 

“I gotta go, I’ll call you back.”

The phone clicks to black before he opens his blazer and slides it into his inner breast pocket. 

“I’m gonna guess that’s your manager,” Your fingers wrap around the clutch tightly as he takes a few steps toward you, obviously very stunned by how different you looked compared from the previous day. 

“Uh, no, actually,” That million-dollar smile gleams at you. He reaches up to his forehead and scratches his brow. His hair is styled upwards so seeing the glory of his forehead was pretty enticing. “My mom. Making sure I’m doing well and fine here.”

He stops a safe distance away from you, finished with taking in whatever of you his eyes and memory can allow him. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna stand me up.”

“I think LV would fire me if they knew I stood the Lee Hyunjae up.”

Hyunjae licks his lips then purses them together, attention finally peeling off your face as he reaches for your hand. He presses his lips into the back of your palm, then casually hooks your arm around his while he walks to your side. “Ready to go?”

At a loss of words for his flirtatious mannerism, all you can afford is a nod.

But as if your vocabulary bank wasn’t already exhausted, you can’t help but stare in complete astonishment when you are led to the matte black Sian Roadster already waiting at the drop-off point right outside the lobby. 

“Have them send the Dior package to Miss l/n’s room by 9pm,” He instructs the bell boy by the hotel entrance as he reaches for the vehicle door. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Yes, Mr Lee.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait a minute,” Your vision is finally peeled off the car when Lee Hyunjae pulls the door open. “What Dior package?”

“Just a token of appreciation from me, that’s all,” He releases your arm as he guides you into the vehicle. “I knew if I gave it to you over dinner, you’d reject, so...”

Twitching his eyebrow, he smirks and retreats, closing the car door. 

Flirt.

The vehicle moves off with a sharp rev of the engine, and you almost feel guilty for being able to be comfortable in in your clothes, shoes, sports car and on the way to a fancy-ass restaurant. 

If only things could be like that for everybody and everything. 

“So, when are you leaving Italy?”

“Oh, um... tomorrow too actually,” Rome’s lights are wondrous on the outside, some of them blinding you. “I have... something to attend.”

“Hmm, that’s... vague.”

You turn to eye him at his silent call for clarification. “I’m attending a closing event; help out with administrations.”

“Like... a pet store or something?”

“Yeah, ‘or something’.”

“That confidential, huh?” He lets out a soft chuckle. 

The gut in your abdomen tells you not to look at him. He’ll see right through you, figure out that there’s something more to it than something ‘confidential’. 

“Yeah,” You mask it with a sigh. “Funds and things.”

You can feel his attention sink into your back as silence befell the atmosphere. 

There’s a kind of light in his eyes when he talks about racing. When he’s describing the feeling of adrenaline in his fingers, gripped around the steering wheel. He’s unexpectedly kind to the service at the restaurant, then again he was a celebrity and he had a reputation to uphold. 

It’s the kind of light that made you panic throughout dinner, because there’s no way this specimen of a man would ever pay you a second thought. Maybe you were going to be his Italy fling that he would boast about to his friends and colleagues and they’d laugh at you without you even knowing. 

What was a rich, handsome racer even doing, single? It was too good to be true, and even if it was, you? Of all people?

Dream on.

“It’s been... an amazing night. Thank you so much for dinner.”

Lee Hyunjae walks you into the lift, letting you press the button to your floor first. 

“I’ll walk you back. I have time.”

Standing with your feet together, in the safety of your gown, your hands are holding your clutch like your life depended on it. You could tell that he wasn’t the most comfortable now, not with his hands over one another and placed politely on his abdomen.

When the lift door dings open, the silence remains. He trails behind you as you walk your way to your room, hands fumbling through your clutch to search for your keycard. The slick of the door is fast and you push the door open, with a black and silver box with the label ‘DIOR’ printed on it sitting at the foot of your bed. 

“Oh, my God!” You rush in and grab the box, eyes widening as you turn to him, who has one arm extended to keep the door open. The box was almost as big as a pillow.

There’s a soft, warm smile on his face. A stark contrast to all his flirty ministrations throughout the evening. “Goodnight, Miss l/n. Sleep well and have a safe flight.”

“Wha-” Then he lowers his head, and turns around. “Wait!”

Without another moment of hesitation, he disappears down the corridor and the door swings shut. 

It feels ironically empty. Your hands are carrying this Godforsaken box of a gift and yet you cannot think of a way to properly thank the person who gave it to you. With slight reluctance, your fingers find the edge of the cover.

It’s a beautiful Dior blazer, packaged with a perfume and a cosmetics set. The cream letter in it is handwritten and signed the racer himself.

I wish we had more time. Love,  Lee Hyunjae

The nauseating sensation of your heart sinking in your chest beats all the logic in your brain when you find yourself reaching for the door handle. The box is mindlessly thrown back onto the bed as you rush out, kicking off your heels in the moment of folly. (Of course, remembering to use the door latch to keep the door open.)

“Hyunjae!” You call down the corridor, and he was just about to enter the lift. He turns, providing you with a gorgeous view of his jaw. 

It feels like a fairytale, when you run down the carpeted corridor, barefooted and still in your gown. The urge to throw your arms around him far supercedes your brain yelling at you not to, but you do it anyway. 

He catches you by the waist as your rest your forehead in his blazer, arms already struggling to meet the height of his shoulders. 

A whisper. “I wish we had more time too.”

He pushes you back by your upper arms, tucking one bit of your hair behind your ear. “If time is what you want, then I’ll make time.”

“But... I- Will you get in trouble?”

He looks you dead in the eye and subtly shakes his head. 

Time stops. 

Fear. That’s what you’re feeling. 

Then he tilts his head and slowly leans in. 

“I don’t think I’d care if I do.”

His breath hits your upper lip and your instincts flutter your lids shut. 

White wine and strawberries from dinner. That’s what he tastes like.

Warmth radiates off his palms and into your cheeks as he holds your face close to his, unable to resist the satisfaction and sweetness you were providing him. In this moment of intimacy, he loses all sense of realism and urgency - all he wants is you to himself, for the rest of the night until the sun rises. 

Then he’d have to worry about never seeing you again because his manager had chosen Gucci over LV. 

But right now, he has your heart and soul in his hands, as does his in yours. 

Being the romantic and (probably) egoistic man of a celebrity he is, he lowers himself and slides his arms where the back of your knees would be, somehow never breaking the kiss. The material of the gown dribbles over the cotton of his suit and your arm circles behind his neck, only minimizing the distance between the two of you. 

It feels like you’re getting married in this black and gold sparkly evening gown when he pushes the door open with his back. The scent of the room is inviting, but definitely none in comparison to the scent of his cologne beginning to stain your hands and your clothes. 

Gently resting you into the cool sheets of the bed, he pulls away to remove the Dior package off the bed, placing it on the mini coffee table by the bed. 

You were never one to deal with one night stands. Hell, the only person you’d ever slept with was some stupid kid back in the orphanage when your stupid teenage hormones were running-

He pulls off his blazer and leans in again, picking your awkward hands and resting them on the knot of his tie. His fingers are grazing the skin on your upper arm, trailing down to your cheek and then your hairline where he combs his hands through your hair. 

The knot on the tie comes undone with some slight tugs, and you slide it out from under his collar. Undoing only the first one, you rest your palms against his chest, creating a small rift where the air rushes to your lips where his should be.

He’s slightly stunned at the slightest breakage, but he is overwhelmed with more care and concern than he was upset. “Why? What’s wrong?” He traces your jaw and rests his fingers on your chin, noses almost touching.

“Are you sure... You want to do this? I can’t risk you losing your career,” Your index finger traces the likes of his cheekbone. “You barely just started.”

Hyunjae shakes his head subtly, taking your hands to his lips and pressing them into the back of your palm. “When I saw you in that room, I was... star struck. You’d think being the celebrity in the room would mean everything, but I felt like I was nothing if I didn’t know you, much less be able to get close to you.”

And for someone who hasn’t really had a biological family to love, his words stuck. 

“I just... knew. There are some things in the world you can work for, but I don’t think any amount of effort can give me you.”

His brown orbs find your gaze and it melts you thoroughly. Like ice cream on a hot day; like the way the ocean washes against the sand by the beach, taking grains of sand away with it - the same way Hyunjae was winning you bit by bit, if not already all of you. 

Your hands find his collar again, and it tightens around the stiff material to pull him back down. He smiles into the kiss, hands pressing into the mattress by your hair while you undo the rest of his buttons. His skin is hot under the shirt, blood running on the adrenaline and tension he was riding on from the intimacy. Muscles pumped and heart racing, you finally get his shirt off and he does you the honor of dropping it to the ground. 

He gives you time to gasp for air while he dips his nose into your neck, inhaling your perfume and the scent of the hotel shampoo in your hair. His back muscles tense up under your cold fingertips as you run them along his spine. It’s almost beast-like, when he flexes his arms and every single move shifts his shoulder blades under his skin. His lips leave gentle pecks in your neck and your exposed collar bone, letting goosebumps erupt all over your skin. 

His hand caresses your waist as a way of request, and you arch your back just enough for him to find the zipper on the back of your gown. The vibrations of the zip being pulled downwards already feels like little bolts of electricity up your spine, and the straps around your shoulders loosen with every inch unzipped. 

He’s done, when his fingers return to your shoulders to push the straps off. The cool air kisses your skin in spots where he isn’t touching with any part of his body. The silk of the gown gently slides off with every inch of a movement you make, more and more of your torso exposed to him. 

Sliding one of his arms under your lower back, he pulls you out of the dress instead of stripping you of it as he helps you further up the bed. Your hands press into the mattress in a bid to help him shift yourself without breaking the sloppy, messy kiss. Your back finally meets the pillows and he pushes the gown off the bed with his leg. 

Chin tilting to the ceiling, he finally creates some distance between the two of you, eyes drifting down to your collar bone and chest still covered. His palms are hot around your waist as he trails butterfly pecks on your cleavage, while your fingers find his hair to tousle and grip. 

Goosebumps start to surface when his breath is heavy on your stomach, then he reaches your underwear and it’s almost embarrassing to have him kiss you. 

Your clouded vision is manually stuck to the ceiling when you can feel your face burning with adrenaline. The tickle of the material when it gets pulled off your hips and down your legs bring your cheeks more color, and before you know it, Hyunjae has your breath hitched in your throat. 

He rests your thighs on his shoulders as he works his way around, the bare minimum sanity left inside you decides to grip onto the sheets instead of ripping out his hair. 

Chills shoot up your spine mercilessly, emanating in the form of lewd mewls directed into the air. The crown of your head meets the cushioned head board of the bed when his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you from squirming too much. 

Without warning, he drags a finger down your sensitiveness and slides it in easily, the sensation erupting a more-than-shameful groan from you. Pulling away, he adds another finger before shifting his attention back to your upper body, now eyeing the last piece of material covering your chest. But he captures your lips first to earn your attention, and your arms naturally find your way around his neck to keep him close. 

His free hand goes around your back to unhook your lingerie, and it’s nothing but a new addition to all the clothes on the carpet now. He removes his fingers, and breaks the kiss first, for the sole reason of giving you a perfect view of him licking his glistening skin. 

You can feel your brows furrow with frustration now, the warmth from him dissipating when he leans back on his heels in a kneeling position. By providing you a gorgeous view of his being while he undoes his belt, he’s only adding more fire to the fuel. 

It’s significant enough to stretch out the material of his boxers, and so he climbs over you as he removes his last bit of clothing. He harshly yanks you downwards into a lying position by your ankle, and the sharp friction against your back is an addition to the heat between the two of you. 

His breath is heavy on your lips as he rests his palms by your ears, weight pushing in the mattress. “Tell me if it hurts, love.”

Then he presses his lips into yours, like his life depended on it, and in one swift motion, he buries himself inside you like it was the most natural thing to do. 

You suck all the breath out of him as you gasp into the kiss, and he finds your arms to hook around his neck and shoulders. 

If you could feel the taste of honey throughout your body, this must be how it feels. 

He gives you some moments before he starts grinding his hips slowly, his palms finding your thighs and digging into your flesh as he hooks them around his hips. 

Breathless, you pull away first, whimpers in the back of your throat louder than what you would’ve expected. His nose dips into your neck again, arms now stretched out to use the headboard as support when he picks up the pace. 

Cursing under your breath, you feel guilty for the bliss that was spreading through you. Your nerves are all heightened by the adrenaline and your vision is blurred from the sole nature of the intimate act. 

He’s not fast, but every spot he’s hitting feels like cloud nine over and over again. 

Like a spark in the dark, the sacred spot reveals itself in the form of harsher breaths and groans. Your fingernails dig into his back and your thighs are losing stamina to remain wrapped around him. 

“That’s it,” He breaths into your ear, pressing a kiss into your lower jaw. “Come for me.”

Tremors burst through your body like lightning in a storm upon his request. He helps you ride it out with a few more thrusts before he pulls out himself, releasing on your stomach, chest heaving. 

Resting his forehead on yours, he smiles. “Let’s hope that one day I wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out.”

You scoff, slightly tired. “We’ll see.”

You are woken up by the unfamiliar warmth you normally don’t have under the blanket. White sheets and tousled hair come into your field of vision before you can process the face, partially hidden, but eyes wide open.

“Jesus,” Your morning breath billows out between your lips and you swallow to dampen your dry throat. The room looks too damn bright for it to be morning. “What time is it?”

“7am. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. My manager hasn’t called me so... we have time to spare.” 

You shuffle around under the sheets and your arms slide under the pillow where its cool. He shifts and pulls out his arm to rest on his tricep, palm under his ear and hair as he perches up his head. 

“What?” You pull the blanket up to your face and inhale the scent of it. It smells like him now. 

“You look pretty when you’re asleep.”

“What?” You frown, but a smile is on your lips. “How long did you watch me sleep for?”

“Not long, don’t worry. I’m not a perv.”

“Well, considering we just slept together after 24 hours of knowing one another-”

“Hey, we’re both about to be deported back to Korea to work. Give us a break, would you?” He groans and shifts again, this time trying to pull you into his chest. 

“Ah,” Snorting, you let him cradle you in his arms, his bare skin pressed warmly into yours. “‘Deport’? That’s what you call your job?”

“Only because you’re involved now,” He pecks you on the lips. “So... can I ask about your ‘administrative matters’ you said you needed to attend?”

Right. The orphanage is closing down. 

The guilt washes through you again. 

“Oh,” A look of seriousness overtakes your facials, and he notes the change in expression. “Um... I- Well... It’s an orphanage. It’s closing.”

He blinks at you, gaze filled with wander. “Were you a volunteer or...?”

Silence. 

You can’t bring yourself to say it. 

Unable to bear the incoming judgment he might provide you, your eyes dart away. 

“Hey, hey,” He finds your chin and tilts it back up to his attention. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anything wrong with being who you are. Why are you ashamed?”

“I... I’ve lived all my life with that label. ‘Orphan’. It only got better when I came out to work.”

“Is that why you are so worried? That... we might affect something and possibly implicate that?”

“Maybe.”

He sighs, thumb stroking your cheek as he shakes his head. “Nah. It shouldn’t matter.” Pulling your head into his chest, you can hear the steady thumping of his heart through his skin. “’Administrative matters’, huh? Are you like a... committee member or donator?”

“I’m an unofficial sponsor ambassador from LV. Well, LV was supposed to arrange for official funding, but they just never really had the time or resources to build the rapport. The orphanage was doing too badly for any company or brand to want to help and invest their attention on.”

“Mm,” He hums, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry about that. I truly am.”

“It’s okay. Nothing could’ve been done about it anyway. All I hope now is for the kids to be safe, no matter where they go.”

It feels empty again, having Hyunjae being ripped from your side at the airport once the plane touched down. The manager was surprisingly not surprised to know that you had spent the night together, the only question he had asked being something that concerned a future pregnancy, which the two of you have already confirmed negative. 

It’s late when you reach back your apartment, and you ready yourself for the private meeting with the committee members of the orphanage. Though tired and severely jet-lagged, you cannot miss this meeting. It’s the last time you’ll see all the caretakers and members of the organisation in the same room.

You shift into the taxi in a new set of clothes, but topped with the Dior blazer and smelling like the Dior perfume, you feel like you were probably going to get slapped once you reach the meeting.

The building of the orphanage looks so run-down, it could be mistaken for a prison had it not been for the words HILDA’S ORPHANAGE in big, block letters above the entrance. Before you can exit the taxi, your phone starts vibrating in your purse.

It’s the President of the orphanage.

“I’m right outside the building, going in soon,” You push open the car door and thank the driver. 

“The meeting has been cancelled. Someone bought the orphanage and we’ll be managed under a new system.”

“What?”

“Surprise.” 

You turn around and see the last person you’d expect to see here, in his hands, a folder of documents and a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Um,” Your eyes are stuck to Hyunjae, but you’re still on the phone. “The buyer... Does it have anything to do with Gucci or F1?”

“Yes, it’s an F1 sponsorship but there will be more details into the managerial and planning system. Some things will have to change.”

“I’ll... I’ll call you back.”

Hyunjae watches you lock your phone in shock, attention unrivalled. He takes a few steps towards you and you now realise he’s still in the same clothes he was in on the plane. His eyebags are obvious but the prideful grin on his face makes him glow. 

Stopping about an arms’ length away from you, he holds out the folder.

“I checked with my manager and he checked with F1. They green-lit it, but on a few conditions. I heard them out before I told them it would be more likely than not you’d accept it, so here are the legal documents. All the terms and conditions and sponsor contract are already in here, so you and the President can sign it when you deem fit.”

Taking the folder, you didn’t even notice your hands are trembling as you flip through it. 

But your eyes flitter up from the page when you notice the printing: 

OWNER’S SIGNATURE (Y/N L/N): ____________________

“It’s yours if you sign it.”

Now, he holds out the bouquet. “I thought of putting it under my name but I don’t want you to think you owe me a favour and have it bugging you all the time.”

Gently shaking your head, as if you could shake out the surprise, you close the file and look to him in awe. “But I’ll still owe you, big time. This is... this is everything, so thank you.”

He sucks in a deep breath and shakes the bouquet of flowers a little. 

“You can return the favour by going out with me. Properly, whenever I have time, and I promise, no Dior packages.”

Taking the bouquet into hand, you throw your arms around his shoulders, tears welling in your eyes.

[goldencherryhazz]

MY LITTLE DOROTHY

A/n: Literally the best outfit of love on tour! Repost from my other acc, enjoy:)

Warnings: smut, sub-Harry, anal play, unprotected sex, a whole lotta filth basically!

‘Y’ an come in now’ Harry had finally called from inside his dressing room. Your had been waiting for the past 5 minutes, clad in your bunny outfit and truly taking on the bunny facade as you stomped your foot in anticipation of what Harry could be wearing for his Harryween show, the only information your had was that him and Alessandro Michele had designed the outfit together, so you knew the outcome was going to be something extravagant.

You don’t hesitate to open the door, and when your eyes meet Harry’s your are fucking mesmerised, he was Dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard Of Oz, in a blue and white picnic blanket patterned dress’ oversea in little strawberries and apples, red tights, and some boots made to look like Dorothy’s iconic sparky red heels. And if it couldn’t get any better, he looked fucking adorable with the blush on his cheeks and mascara on his eyelashes s and the cherry on top was the little bow maintaining his unruly curls.

‘Do you think I look okay’ he say shifting on his heels, twiddling his fingers and you want to cry at the fact that he was a little nervous about his attire and what other people would think about it, you shut the dressing room door for a little privacy, he doesn’t miss the way you flick the lock shut aswell.

‘Baby, you look fucking beautiful’ you tell him truthfully, you can’t get over how pretty he is, it had honestly sent you brain haywire, you had to say you did feel very underdressed in your quiet classic bunny costume now.

‘Are you sure.’ He asks again and walk right up to him this time taking his hand in yours, ‘sweet boy as long as you feel comfortable in it and you want to wear it, I say fuck everyone else if they say something bad about it, what your are doing is soo inspiring, just fucking all the gender norms and crossing the invisible lines in the wardrobe and showing other people that it’s okay, and maybe every leading them to do what your doing after never feeling confident enough to do it before, because you have given them that confidence, and that makes me so fuckin’ proud bub’ he nods along with what you were saying still not fully with you but getting there.

Do you feel comfortable?’ you ask again.

‘Yes i do, feelin a bit cute’ he giggles making you smile.

‘I mean there’s a reason for that, you look fucking adorable. And your know what I know for a fact that everyone is going to love it, I know it.’

‘Thankyou darling, feel a lot better now’ he pulls you into his arms for a quick hug.

‘Good, now d’ya want me to show you how pretty I think your are baby?’ He doesn’t even have to ask what she means and doesn’t care that his cock gets hard at how quickly the tables have turned.

‘Yes please’ and you smirk at the feeling of his hard length against your thigh, you knew he was still a little nervous, a lot less than before and you just wanted him to appreciate himself more because sometimes he did a bad job at doing that, and this was pretty much the only way you knew how to. It is also for your sake because Harry in dresses did something to you and never failed to make your panties wet and you honestly don’t think you could wait till after the show, you had one hour to fufill your desires it wasn’t as much time you would have liked to spend on him but for now you would have to make do.

‘Get on the couch for me baby, all fours’ you tell him taking up the dominant facade that Harry usually took on in the bedroom, and you can’t lie when you say it excites you.

‘Yes angel’ he follows your order, getting on all fours on the leather couch his ass sticking out, giving you a glimpse of what was under the dress, his tights protruding in his crotch area and you can wait to explore what was underneath.

‘What should I do to you huh, what should I do to my pretty little Dorothy.’ You moved closer stroking over his ass, he wiggles it slightly at the contact.

‘Can I have your fingers, p-please’ he stutters, desperate for any kind of touch at this moment in time.

‘Where do you want my fingers baby boy’ the smirk on your face is cynical, bathing in your own dominance.

‘In my ass, want y-you to fuck my ass with your fingers please’ he begs and your can’t help but run over your clit with your fingers over the fabric of your costume, in attempt to relieve some of the tingling.

‘Good boy, asked so nicely, now you can have my fingers’ you kneel behind him and start pulling his tights down to his mid thigh, his cock springing out revealing he had forgone any underwear this evening his briefs probably being too tight to be worn aswell as the red tights,and the thought gets your even more flustered.

’Thankyou angel’ he mumbles into the couch cushions bunching the dress up to his chest in his hands making sure it wasn’t in the the way, and gives a small yelp when you abruptly squeezed the flesh of his ass in your hands.

‘Gonna get you all nice and wet for me okay’ you begin swirling your finger around his tight ring of muscles and he now and at the contact. You bring your hand back up to your mouth getting your fingers nice and wet making the experience more comfortable for Harry.

You bring your hand back down, circling his hole and dipping in every now and again to get him used to the feeling, you hadn’t done this in quite a while having been on tour, most nights he wanted to fuck the living daylights out of your because of his adrenaline highs, but oh how the roles have reversed now.

‘Please I’m ready, just want your fingers p-please’ you can tell by his tone that his is absolutely desperate.

‘Gotta be patient sweet boy, don’t wanna hurt you, want you to feel good.’ He gives in to your words and smooshed his head back into the couch cushions.

After a few minutes you decide he is finally ready, all nice and lubed up with the help of your saliva and loosened up a bit by your fingers. ‘Gonna make you feel good now baby’ he wiggles his ass in excitement at the promise. ‘Please, please, please.’ He begs and you respond by fully inserting your index finger curling it up. His moans full the room ‘fuck feels so good angel, give me more’ so you do as he say and start thrusting your finger in and out of his asshole, some adding another when his soft walls starts to open up more.

By now your are fucking him at a relentless pace, your fingers making squelching sounds as you thrust them, his moans are continuous and getting louder by the second.

‘Shit gonna make cum so hard angel, feels so good, can you please t-touch my cock, please.’

‘Yeah baby boy gonna cum hard for me, I’ll touch your cock and then I want you to come for me okay’

‘M’so close, shit’ he cries out.

You still your fingers for a second which he whines at, so you can reach around to grasp his veiny cock and begin pumping it at the same time. When you start fucking his ass again he cries out, the sensation feeling soo good. On one particular thrust you reach your fingers deep managing to brush his prostate his whole body spasming ‘shit, I’m gonna cum, can I cum please’

‘Cum for me baby boy, make a mess of yourself’ he does exactly that. After a few more thrust and pumps of your fingers and hard he is cumming hard, long spurts of thick cum landing on the couch and thank got it was leather, his hole fluttering sporadically, Harry swore he saw stars. You still your fingers but carry on pumping his cock, milking every last drop of his milky cum.

‘Shit, too much’ he slurs out and you instantly stop your movements, slowly removing your fingers only to put them in your mouth to get a taste of his sweet, mellow ass.

‘Y’okay baby boy’

‘Yes angel, feel all warm in my tummy, heads spinning a bit too, but it feels so nice’ he says dreamily.

‘Aww i’m glad, can you sit up for me baby’

‘Mhhh’ he moves his body upright and moves to sit down where his cum hasn’t dirtied the couch, you love to straddle him so you can give him a kissy which he soon replicates, grasping hold of your hips with his soft hands. When you feel his cock harden against your thigh again your open your eyes in surprise ‘didn’t think you had that much left in you, but look at you getting all hard again, such a dirty boy’

‘Can’t help it, you look hot too, walking around in that outfit, floundering that bunny tail, impossible not to get hard at’

‘Think you can cum for me again sweet boy’ you give him a few more pecks across his face.

‘Such a good boy for me aren’t you, gonna ride you baby if that okay’

‘Yeah want to to ride me, legs are still a little numb’ he smirks.

‘Oh poor baby’ you say quickly standing up to get ride of any clothing on your bottom half before straddling him again.

‘Y’ready’ you ask rubbing your built up slickness around your cunt with your finger, ‘can I have a taste’ he pleads. ‘Of course baby here you go’ you bring your finger up to his lips to which he quickly enclosed them and hims in delight when your sweet arousal spreads across his tongue, he sucks in your finger till it’s clean before you take it back out, his lips making a popping sound when you do.

Your take his cock in your hand and he hissed slightly, still a little sensitive, and you guide him to your entrance before sinking down fully into his, and he tips his head back thudding into the back of the couch, and you moan out eyes rolling at the feeling of your walls behind my full of his cock, the slight sting of his cock stretching your walls further adding to the pleasure. You start bouncing up and down, his cock felt so good inside you and the angle meant he was going really deep and you knew it would take you long to topple over the edge.

You grasp onto his hair at the base of his neck, trying not to disturb the bow on his head too much. His moans are going directly in your ear and going straight to your core, as his head is buried into your neck, finding the pleasure a lot to handle.

‘Shit I’m gonna cum soon’ you say thrusting even faster, bringing your hand down to your clit to rub deep circles to get your there quicker.

‘Fuck’ he moans, his balls tingling as he gets close to another orgasm and he knows that he’s literally going to explode inside you very soon.

You begin to clench around him, and without any words being spoken you both know that your are about to cum, and after a few more deep thrusts you fall over the edge. Your toes curling, body spasming around him, your cunt squeezing round him which leads his to his second orgasm of the night, he squeezes his eyes shut an grits his teeth body shaking as he shoots his load deep inside your, and you can tell it’s a lot when his cum starts falling out of your pussy even with his cock still buried inside you. It takes a few minutes for you to both come down from you high, your warm breaths dancing from each other as you try to regain any sense or reality.

You eventually pull his head from your neck, ‘you okay bub’ and you wish you had a camera on your when you get a proper look at his face, all hazy and fucked out mascara running down his cheeks from the overstimulation of cumming twice, you just wanted to capture this moment and keep it forever.

‘Feel incredible angel, thankyou for showing me how pretty I am.’ He smiles his eyes still shut from the exhaustion of their previous activities.

And you smile at his admittance, glad that he could finally see it and believe when you said that he was beautiful. You would usually call him cocky but you didn’t have the energy to, ‘that’s okay…my little Dorothy.

[taergalive]

(I’m writing these thoughts as a white woman. If any POC and especially women of color can add to this or even correct me where I’m wrong, please do so. But honestly I was trying to sleep and these thoughts were keeping me up)

Also beware vague spoilers

I saw Nope yesterday, and it’s been on my mind ever since. I read a lot of posts that make the connection of how animals are treated and how poc are treated in media (and in general let’s be honest). Part of me hates this comparison because it feels dehumanizing toward poc, but then I realize that’s the point. How they’ve always been a spectacle to white media. Even before movies, we had minstrel shows where white people in black face would depict black people as silly and happy-go-lucky. We had circuses that would take wild animals and not only put them on display but also train them to perform tricks. I also think of people like Thomas "Blind Tom" Wiggins, a black man who is believed to have had autism. He was born a slave, and because he was blind, he didn’t do work outside. When he was 4 years old, he learned how to play the piano by listening to his master’s daughters playing. By the age of 5, he composed his first song. His owners put on shows and toured him around, making a ton of money off of him. They even compared him to a trained animal. 

So obiviously there’s a lot there. But I also noticed the movie deals with women, and especially women of color, and how they are portrayed in media. Though there’s only one prominent woman in the movie, Em, the movie highlights this with two other women as well. First, we have the unnamed, unmentioned Haywood mother. Maybe it was just me, but I never once questioned where OJ and Em’s mother was. I grew up on Disney movies; dead mothers are a dime a dozen. In fact, the only time I ever thought about their mother was the one scene where Em looks at the picture of who we can assume is her mother. It was then I realize we never spoke about her, never gave a reason for her absence. And like I said, dead mothers are a dime a dozen. How often does a movie start with a dead woman? You have the whole trope of “fridging”, where a woman is killed or harmed in some way, usually to give the male character a reason to fight. Maybe it’s just me, but when the camera focused on that photo, it really hit me just how accepting of the fact the mother was gone. 

The other woman, who also isn’t in the movie but at least is named, is Oprah. At first I kind of just took it as a joke. The Oprah shot. Even Em makes fun of OJ for mentioning her. “Why do you love Oprah so much?” But the reference makes sense to me. As a white girl who grew up in the 90s, Oprah was THE black woman. She was constantly taught about during black history month. Born in poverty, able to raise herself up to not only a prominent and influential talk show host but also philanthropist who creates schools in Africa for young girls and has her own movie production company, television company, books, you name it. In the 90s, she’s who you thought about when you thought of successful black women. In the 2000s, it was Michelle Obama. 

But let me talk about Em now. Poor Em. Even in my analysis, you were put last. Like I said earlier, she’s the only prominent female character in the movie. OJ is set up to be our main character, and for most of the movie, he is. Em is set up to be the supporting role. She even acts as comic relief next to the stoic OJ. In a weird, nonromantic way, she sort of reminds me of a manic pixie dream girl, trying to help OJ get out of his shell. But throughout the movie, Em turns the table on the supporting female role. She doesn’t dress for the male gaze, mostly wearing sports wear or baggy clothes. She’s flashy. She’s loud. She stands out in scenes rather than hanging on the sidelines or in the background. And as the movie progresses, she becomes more in focus. She talks about how her dad went all cowboy on her and wouldn’t let her train the horses, how she watched from the sides as OJ trained what was supposed to be *her* horse. Throughout most of the film, the focus is on OJ, but what happens when we get to the climax of the film? He names the creature after the horse Em was supposed to tame. During the climax, she starts off in the supporting role again, not out in the field with the guys but in the house monitoring the cameras. But when things start turning south and OJ isn’t able to do it on his own, she jumps into the fray. OJ hands the battle off to her, and in the end, she’s the one to get the Oprah shot. She’s the one who brings Jean Jacket down. 

Sorry, this made much more sense in my head at 3am so I apologize if it doesn’t make much sense. I just couldn’t sleep anymore until I got these thoughts out. 

[spooky-z]

SOULMATE AU:: First Swap

Look who's back... That's right! Soulmate AU.

I intend to make a shortfic with five chapters, after finishing posting Bombshell (which already has the first of three chapters posted HERE)

Here they are 7 and their behavior may seem strange, but... Damian. So, yeah.

Soulmate AU:: 1 and 2.

1.4K

Maribat by @ozmav

Marinette was... irritated, so to speak, with Mlle. Bustier.

The woman had once again invalidated her feelings for Chloe. Chloe, who was being particularly mean to her, because she was jealous that Marinette had a soulmate, but she didn't.

Chloe had - as always - thrown a tantrum because Marinette had achieved a better grade than she in the test and didn’t shut up for a second until that moment.

Marinette's head was throbbing with the start of a monstrous headache.

“But Mlle. Bustier!” The blonde whined. "I'm sure Dupain-Cheng cheated!" The high-pitched voice resonated through the windowpanes and hurt the students' eardrums.

"Chloe, please." Mlle. Bustier asked, frowning, probably as irritated as the rest of the students.

Chloe snorted indignantly. "Then I will tell my-"

That was when Marinette felt the comforting presence at her side. Catching the movement with a quick look before she turned around completely so she could look at him better.

The skin kissed by the sun, black hair and short. He dressed like the shinobis she saw in the action movies that papa let her watch when mama wasn't around. Sitting in the chair that was previously available, there was an air of danger around him.

But what caught her attention most were his eyes. His eyes that matched hers perfectly, and he was beautiful.

"Thank you." He replied, his cheeks turning a shy pink.

Marinette squeaked, her hands rising automatically to cover her mouth, drawing the attention of Nino and Kim sitting across from her.

"Are you okay, MDC?" Kim asked.

She shook her head frantically. "If you say..." Nino replied suspiciously.

Marinette took her hands from her mouth to smile at them and so the two turned their attention to the interrupted conversation.

She looked at him again, feeling overwhelmed by the flood of information that hit her.

The world around them changing rapidly.

"Wow." Marinette sighs.

She looked at the breathtaking landscape.

The place they were in looked like a big Asian-style mansion on top of a mountain. She could see the clouds from the floor she was on and how the sun reflected against the rocks around the building.

It was breathtaking.

"I agree with you." He says, his eyes glued to her.

A commotion attracts Marinette's attention.

Underneath where they were, she could see other people - Ghuls - in the same type of black clothes as he was, training with katanas and their face covered.

The League of Assassins. Heir. Batman. Damian.

"Oh." She turns to look at him again. An unknown feeling burning in her chest and a lump stuck in her throat.

Her eyes start to burn, a sob escaping without her permission. "I-" Tears clouded her vision, wanting to-

He- Damian, spread his arms, an intelligible expression on his face and a guilty glint in his eyes.

She didn't hesitate for a second before jumping into his arms.

Finally. Finally, she was able to touch, see, smell him, melt against the heat of his body, unite with him.

"I'm so happy." She sniffs against his neck. “I've been so worried about you! Always hurting yourself and- the pains I felt coming from you...!”

Damian tightens his arms around her.

"I'm fine, ya rouhi (my soul)." He responds smoothly.

Marinette violently denies it. "No, you're not!"

��I am- now I am. You don't have to worry anymore.” Damian whispers against her shoulder.

She smiles at the choice of words, her heart warming more and more. It was like the sky, like she was floating with clouds. She never wanted it to end.

“Mlle. Bustier, Maritrash is being scary!” Chloe's voice frightens Marinette and she moves away from Damian back to the classroom, where everyone is looking at her strangely.

Chloe wags her finger at her, tapping her foot on the floor.

"She's talking strange and smiling like a lunatic!"

Beside Marinette, Damian snorts angrily. "She's just annoying."

"I know. Most of the time I just ignore her, you know? Like a persistent fly.” The girl responds, an acid touch in the words.

Chloe gasps, knowing that Marinette was talking about her.

“Mlle. Bustier!” She whimpers.

The teacher sighs tiredly with Chloe's tantrums and the way Marinette was dealing with it. She, better than anyone, knew that it was not right to disrupt others because she was frustrated.

"Marinette, apologize to Chloe." Bustier asks. "You were rude with your words."

The girl looks at the teacher in disbelief and Chloe smiles convinced.

"But I didn't do anything!" She complains. "Chloe who's being stupid again!"

Everyone in the classroom chokes on Marinette's words. Chloe starts to cry and Bustier gets up from her seat scandalized.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" She slaps her hand on the table. "Apologize right now or I will be forced to call your parents at school!" Threatened.

Most of Marinette's classmates were unable to notice the change in the girl's appearance or how her posture had hardened. Not even the change in the girl's eye color was noticed.

Only Kim, Nino - who were sitting closest to her -, Sabrina who knew Marinette and Mlle. Bustier, who, despite everything, was very observant.

'Marinette' leaned back against the back of the seat, her lips pressed in a thin line, her eyes - both green, but with different hues - cold as ice and her hair had darkened to a glossy black.

"I hope that this attitude will be taken not only towards me, but with the annoying girl as well." She says.

"Annoying girl?" Chloe mutters incredulously.

"Why would I do that?" Mlle. Bustier replies. "The only person I see being rude is you."

Marinette throws her head back and laughs sarcastically before looking back at the teacher. The face as hard as stone.

"That was a good joke, mademoiselle." She stands up, arms crossed behind her. "That-" She stops as if she's hearing something. “Chloe, right. She has been distracting everyone since you started class. Making meaningless complaints or just whining and so far, I haven't seen you scold her for it.”

Mlle. Bustier swallows.

"B-But-"

“No ‘buts’!” Marinette cuts the woman. "It gets special treatment just for being the daughter of politician, is it?"

Chloe tosses her hair over her shoulders, arms crossed. “My father is the new mayor of Paris. Mayor! He rules everything, so do I!”

Marinette makes an 'hm' sound without opening her mouth, looking critically from Chloe to Bustier - who had a greenish tinge to her face -.

"It will be something to tell the parents of Dupont students, then." There is a dangerous edge to the girl's tone. "Imagine the scandal that will be when the word comes out that the mayor of Paris and his daughter, has power over the way the school is run"

Marinette smiled and went down the stairs towards Chloe.

Mlle. Bustier sighs at the sweet girl's behavior. Understanding coming to her.

"You are not Marinette." She says.

The girl smiles, an evil look in her eyes.

"Bingo!" She claps excitedly. “I thought you were more stupid. I was sincerely concerned about the school education that habibit is receiving.”

The students made protest sounds with the girl's harsh words, but the look she sent them made everyone freeze in their seats quickly shutting up.

"Who are you-" Chloe fumbles, shocked by the color of Marinette's eyes.

"I think you'd better be quiet, Bourgeois." Non-Marinette says. "Otherwise, you will discover one of the many ways I know how to cut a person's tongue." She makes mimics a scissor with her fingers, without taking her eyes off Chloe.

The blonde's eyes widen in fright.

“Or who knows, one day you may wake up bald... There are many options on the table. I can even let you choose.” Non-Marinette taps her finger against her chin thoughtfully.

Chloe walks away. Hands quickly going to the head, trying to protect the hair away from Marinette.

"I-I don't feel well." Mumbles, picking up the yellow bag from the table. "I think I'm going to go home... Daddy will call dismissing me... Bye!" She doesn't wait for Mlle Bustier's response before running out of the classroom.

Non-Mari smiled beatifically, enjoying the whole scene of the girl's escape and staying until Chloe was out of sight. Then the expression darkened when her attention turned to Bustier.

"You and I are going to have a very serious conversation now."

And Mlle. Bustier swallows, feeling threatened by the girl's words.

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