#Out and About NYC Magazine

[thedawningofthehour]

Splints right after escaping from Draxum's lab:

"Oof, I think we're safe now boys. Big Mama said the city was under New York, so I guess we're in New York. I've been here a few times. It's been...years, but we'll figure it out together alright?"

'squints towards Lower Manhattan'

"Looks like they finally tore down those ugly towers."

[mobius-m-mobius]

Hi, it's the “love is a dagger” anon again! I hope you're having an amazing day! Firstly, I wanted to say thank you so much for making the gifset I requested!!

Secondly, I wanted to point out how, judging by their shape and design, the daggers Mobius had in his locker and gave to Loki for protection in 1x2 were most likely the same ones Loki lost to the Bifrost on the sacred timeline. The daggers, just like Loki, were once lost to time and space but then they were found and cherished by Mobius. It takes the entire metaphor to a whole new level and further cements the fact that the quote is specifically in relation to lokius. 🥺

You don't have to if you don't want to, of course, but a gifset of this connection between the daggers in the Loki series and the daggers in the Thor movies and how they relate back to lokius would be very nice to see, especially with how beautiful your gifsets always are!!

Hey again 🗡️ anon, lovely to hear from you!! The day has been a great one so far, hope the same for yours and had a wonderful time making your set 🥰

Completely agree with your observation about the daggers Mobius kept and tried to return to Loki being the ones lost on the sacred timeline, then considering what we know about how the TVA frowned upon personal artifacts or really anything at all to define individualization or connection outside work it means all the more for Mobius to have made a point of seeking out one of the few items Loki found comfort and identity in to treasure 🥺

As to your new request, first of all tysm for the compliment about my gifs, it's truly appreciated and I'd be more than happy to build on more Lokius parallels but (and I always feel a little sheepish confessing this LOL) I've... not actually seen any Thor movies, or hardly any of the MCU outside a bit of phase 1 + The Avengers and some clips involving Bruce and Vision so the irony of being caught up waiting for glimpses of Mobius for eternity isn't lost, trust me 😅😂 If you have any specific scenes or moments from the movies in mind though please feel free to let me know!

[lemondedelamode]

Anna Ewers by Robin Galiegue for Self Service Magazine No°56 

[sunsburns]

okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…

oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)

the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.

you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.

logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.

that son of a bitch.

he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.

it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.

logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.

a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.

and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.

but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.

"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."

"shut the fuck up, wade."

logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.

wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."

logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."

from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.

every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.

jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?

you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.

one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.

what the fuck was this?

he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.

when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"

you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."

"yeah, no problem."

he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.

you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.

"you're logan, right?"

he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."

"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."

logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."

"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."

and you were gone again.

logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.

he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.

you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.

you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.

though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.

to you**

to come to you.*

sorry. typo.

[midnightcitymoon]

I am overjoyed because I am thriving in all areas of my life & have my dream beauty/travel/lifestyle editor job & I have a stable, healthy and wealthy family and tons of adoring, loyal, considerate friends & love interests whose company I enjoy & I have a healthy, optimally-functioning body with my ideal appearance of shiny hair, thick eyelashes, blemish-free skin, sculpted face and an hourglass figure with a tiny waist, perky boobs, and toned arms, torso, butt, and legs. So mote it be ✨✨✨

11:11 ☆MiracleMakeAWishComeTrueSpell🌙

Eleven-Eleven, This is a call to all angels in heaven, give me a miracle and make my wish come true!

🌜☄⭐🕤🕙🕦⭐🕯🕯📰🎁🎆🎈🎉🎖🔜🔝🔔🕯💰📰💳📧📭🔥🗝🔮🛡🌟☄🌛🌞🌈

Like to Charge, Reblog To Cast spell

[biancadoes1]

YOUR FAVORITE ANON HERE

I've been thinking of the recently released pap pics and the circulation they are making from DM to E! News to People Magazine and every gossip site in between. And I have THOUGHTS...

First thing to remember: Nicola has always told us to pay attention and listen to the story SHE IS TELLING YOU and not the one you read on gossip sites.

Back in August, Nicola attended the music festival on Sunday, August 18th. We did not see any papped pics of her and JD until one week later on Sunday, August 25th when the Irish Sun published an online article. I believe that the pap company may have reached out to try and sell the pics to Nic's team first and and when they would not pay the (typically) exorbitant fee, they may have negotiated for the company to not allow them to be released until 8/25. This was the day before the Kate Spade release which would help bury the pictures. It also gave Nic an opportunity on Thursday, August 22nd to update her insta grid with the "it's all yours" post for Luke. This is a subtle nod to fans that HER STORY includes Luke.

Here we are now. I am of the belief that these pictures were taken in late September (pre-NYC). I think someone may have been following Nic and JD with an agenda to obtain these pictures for nefarious reasons. The photos were taken and were held for a "rainy day." It is important to note there is an entire faction of the "fandom" actively rooting against Nicola and Luke and going to extreme lengths to collect evidence for this Nicola and JD narrative. On Wednesday, October 16th, Nicola's TIME article was released online and included an entire paragraph about Luke including a line about people wanting them to get married. This took the internet by storm and I can only assume angered those with the opposing narrative. So they have the photos released. Again, I'm sure the photos were attempted to be shopped to her team and they once again declined with the caveat of one week til release. The next four days include a media blitz on the internet. Interviews and clips from the S3 World Tour are re-released along with never been seen footage. Interviewers were conversing with fans about the chemistry and love between Nicola and Luke. This all culminated on Monday, October 21st when Nicola surprised everyone with a selfie of her and Luke. I do NOT believe this was the "S4 Polin Selfie" - this was purely just a spur of the moment selfie between two people in love. And I believe this was a repeat of her "it's all yours" situation from August and she was telling everyone that HER STORY IS LUKE. Tuesday, October 22nd ends with Nicola posting a random story about a "paper moon" which can also be used to describe a fake relationship or situation - an ominous warning to all fans involved.

Once the pictures were dropped by Deuxmoi on Wednesday, October 23rd, tags on Nicola's instagram were actively being deleted. The night ended with 10 pictures from the pap drop remaining in her tagged section and more of them were deleted the following day. By end of the day on Thursday 10/24, the "date night" pics were spread to all the major gossip sites including E! News, Entertainment Tonight, and People Magazine. All of these sources cited the pictures as being taken on different dates: Monday 10/22, Tuesday 10/23, the week of 10/15 - the true mark of a sketchy situation.

I want to end this by acknowledging that I know the fandom is frustrated and upset but I think it's important to not feel "duped" by Nicola. I do not believe she was involved in what occurred with these pictures. She was purely walking home with her FRIEND and they may have been a little closer but I think that can be chalked up to him helping her and covering her through the scary situation - imagine if you were walking home one night and got ambushed by cameras on a side street! Her team did work on the front end with the media push of the old clips and she posted a pic with Luke for everyone. At this point, they're just letting her name be out there and living up to the old adage of "no press is bad press." I PROMISE YOU that this is not a PR situation that they will not be able to get out of. There will be a plan in place and she will get through this.

And from this point on, it IS important to remember the following: PAY ATTENTION TO THE STORY NICOLA IS TELLING YOU AND NOT THE STORY THAT DEUXMOI AND THE GOSSIP SITES ARE TELLING YOU. And if you feel the need to spiral, it might be time to take some time off away from social media because none of this affects any of us personally. We just want Nicola and Luke to be happy and healthy!

My favorite anon never misses.

Make you sure you all study this.

I WILL be testing you on this later.

[kjupchurch-xx]

💋 Sexiest Man Alive 💋

November 19th, 2008

                    New York City, New York

              

✨ Author's Note: In this one shot, for story purposes, Hugh is not married. We'll say he divorced from Deb recently to keep the flow of the story.

I double checked my appearance in the mirror before heading out. Today is the day I will be interviewing Hugh Jackman for his People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive crowning. The interview will be filmed and broadcasted live on national television. I decided to go business casual, wearing black capri slacks, a white and pink flowered cami tank top with black 6-inch heels. My dark brown hair was shoulder length and wavy. My makeup was flawless. To say nervous would be an understatement whenever you're interviewing someone that's been named the sexiest man alive.

Everything seemed perfect, so I rushed out to my 2008 Ford Mustang and sped off to our studio in downtown NYC. Traffic was hectic, but I managed to get there with 25 minutes to spare to go over the interview questions before our guest of honor arrives. One question in particular stood out to me, it was a question pertaining to his sexuality due to circulating rumors that he's gay. I'm normally shameless, but this would be an awkward thing to ask him.

"You ready?" My co-worker/camera man Justin asked, stepping in front of me.

I nodded, "As I'll ever be! Just going over some of the questions. 'How do you feel about the circulating rumors of you being gay?', 'What turns the sexiest man alive on?', Justin, what the hell are these questions?" I asked with a humorous horrified look spreading across my face.

He failed to contain his laughter, "I didn't write 'em, I just control the cameras."

I shuffled the cards, "This is going to be the weirdest interview. This dude is probably going to leave the set mid interview." I laughed.

Justin shook his head, "Hugh is a pretty good sport. He should take it in a humorous way. You should be good. He'll be here any minute, so get ready."

I nodded, "Alright."

I stood to double check the set and make sure the props were in their correct location, making sure the set was clean and presentable before sitting back down in my chair. I stood back up, hearing an Australian accent coming from the hallway, that must be Mr. Jackman.

"Glad to be here, mate. Thanks for havin' me." He said, shaking hands with our producer Mack, while walking into my view.

Mack smiled and pointed in my direction while walking Hugh up to me, "Mr. Jackman, this is Kaitlyn. She'll be doing your interview."

I smiled, extending my hand out to Hugh, "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm a huge fan and honored to be doing your interview today, Mr. Jackman."

He gave me a smile, shaking my hand, "Call me Hugh. Nice to meet ya, Sweetheart."

I can see why he was voted sexiest man alive now. No photoshop or CGI needed. This man was cut. He had the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen and did not look a day over 28 despite just turning 40 last month. He was wearing dark colored blue jeans with a white t-shirt adorned with a black blazer that made his biceps pop. I could swear the temperature in the room went up at least 20 degrees since he'd walked in.

As we sat down, I noticed him smiling at me and looking me up and down as if he were checking me out. I smiled back while grabbing the cue cards with the questions for the interview and looked towards Justin, who gave me a slight nod to let me know we were rolling,

I smiled from ear to ear as the camera zoomed in on only me, "Good afternoon, New York! Today's guest was just crowned People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive of the year. You can purchase his edition today in stores. Please allow me to welcome Mr. Hugh Jackman!"

The camera zoomed out showing Hugh and I both sitting in the chairs at the small table separating us. I looked over smiling in his direction, allowing him to speak.

He gave a huge smile towards the camera and then towards me, "Thank you for having me! How're you doing today?" He asked.

I smiled, "I'm great. How are you? How have things been since being named People's Sexiest Man Alive?"

"They've been quite interesting. I was told Brad Pitt wasn't available this year." He said with a cheeky laugh.

I failed to contain my laughter, "I believe a lot of people feel that you've earned the title, especially given your portrayal of Wolverine in Marvel's X-Men."

I could see him blushing, "Honestly, things have been great. I just finished up a movie with Nicole Kidman called Australia, which comes out next week. We're pretty pumped for that."

I shifted in my seat, "How was filming that with Nicole?"

He got serious for a moment, "It was great. She's a good friend of my ex wife's, so it was a bit awkward at first, but overall a great experience. Shooting the film back home in Australia was exciting."

I nodded, "We'll be sure to check that out next week once it premiers." I felt a slight smirk appear on my lips, "Okay, now for the good stuff you all have been waiting for. Juicy questions for the sexiest man alive. Are you ready for this, Hugh?" I asked with as much confidence as I could possibly muster.

He giggled, "Baby, I'm always ready. Let's go."

I took a dramatic deep breath for dramatic effect, "Alright, so given you're now the sexiest man alive, what are some of your turn-ons? What's something you find sexy in a woman?"

He chuckled, giving me a smirk, "Oh, getting a bit cheeky, are we? You waste no time." He noticed me trying to keep a straight face and continued, "What turns me on? I'd have to say confidence, a strong woman that can sometimes put me in my place. I also love a woman in summer clothing. I'm from Australia, I love the outdoors, I love the water. I feel like a woman comfortable in her own skin, enjoying herself on the beach is very attractive to me."

I smiled with a nod, shuffling the cards in my hands, "Good answer."

He smirked at me, shifting in his seat, "I have a question for you. When are we heading to the beach?"

I looked a bit flustered, "I didn't know we were! But I'm happy to go with you any time!" I said with a small laugh.

He chuckled, "Dually noted." He tapped his forehead as if he were retaining the information.

This man was gorgeous. I'm sure he's just being funny for the camera, but I'm still enjoying this.

Attempting to stop chuckling, I went with the next question, "So Hugh, what do you make of the circulating rumors of your sexuality?"

He shrugged, "I think they're funny. They don't really bother me."

I nodded, "What did your friends and family say after you broke the news of being the sexiest man of 2008?"

He laughed, "My mates found it funny. My kids think it's funny but also gross their father is being called sexy. My family also, but they were proud of the accomplishment."

"Given your recent divorce, the ladies would like to know, is Hugh Jackman on the market?" I asked curiously, with a slight giggle.

He looked at the camera, "Hugh Jackman is on the market, ladies." He turned to me, "Is my interviewer also on the market?"

I failed to hide the red blush appearing on my cheeks, "Is Hugh Jackman hitting on me?" I said to the camera acting as if I were in shock with a tilt of my head.

He laughed, "You didn't answer my question."

I smirked, "I'm the interviewer. I ask the questions."

He shook his head, "Feisty, are we?"

I chuckled, "Mr. Jackman, do you have a secret talent?"

He smiled, "I'm very well trained. Not toilet trained, but I'm trained in other things. Barbara Walters told me I give phenomenal lap dances."

I laughed, "Did she? Barb is a great judge, so I trust her judgment."

He immediately stepped up from his chair, looking towards Justin, "Do we have music? I'm going to demonstrate." Looking back towards me he continued, "I have to showcase my talent for you."

This has definitely been the most interesting interview of my two year career.

I looked at Justin as music began playing, "Oh? I'm getting a lap dance too?" I asked playfully throwing the cue cards across the room. "Forget the script."

Justin failing miserably to contain his laughter watched on as Hugh began swaying his hips, removing his blazer and stepping to me. I sat not knowing how to react or if this was some odd dream I was having. He was in front of me with both of my legs between his, while still swaying his hips in a seductive motion.

His voice now seductive shook me from the thought, "How're you feeling, love? Isn't this your best interview yet? C'mon, look at me, baby." His finger grasping my chin pulling it upwards to look at him with the cheekiest, sexiest smile on his face.

I nervously laughed, blushing, "Oh my god." Was all I could manage to say. His other hand gripping my shoulder as he moved closer, almost putting his crotch 2 feet from my face.

He immediately began dying laughing as he sank to the floor, placing both hands on my knees. "How was that?" He asked.

I shook my head with a smile, "That was... I mean, I've never had an interview leave me speechless."

I could hear the film crew failing to contain their laughter as Hugh reached up and hugged me, straddling my lap. This must be every woman's wet dream. His laughter piercing my ears as he hugged me.

"Job well done then." He said cockily. "Turn off those cameras. We're headed backstage." He managed to say through his laughter.

I squealed, dying of laughter, "And that concludes our interview with Mr. Hugh Jackman, ladies and gentlemen! Go pick up your issue of People's magazine's Sexiest Man Alive-" I struggled to grab the magazine but finally reaching it, holding it up towards the camera, "Today!"

The cameras immediately cut and Hugh hopped off of me, laughing at the crew's reaction as their laughter grew louder now that they didn't have to worry about the rolling cameras.

"Best interview of your life?" Hugh asked me with a knowing smile.

I laughed, shaking my head, "Definitely. I was not expecting my day at work to end with a lap dance from Wolverine."

He pulled me in for another hug, "Next interview I'll be giving you another lap dance."

I playfully rolled my eyes, hugging him back, "I'll be sure to remind you."

He got serious for a moment, "Would you like to grab lunch with me? I've got a bit before my next press."

I nodded, "Sure. I'd love to."

He gave me a smile, "Seriously though, are you on the market and when are we gonna go to the beach?"

I looked at him nervously, "I am on the market, and I'm available anytime after 3."

He grabbed my hand, leading me towards the hallway. "Great. All I needed to know. I'm looking forward to that next lap dance, beautiful."  He said with a smirk.

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um ��� just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[crazymadpassionatelove]

Cool Fiancè

Notes: 18+ sex mentioned

Special shout-out to @ab4eva and her fabulous editing skills! This is the second installment in my cool girl saga. Read Part 1 here

---

Five Things to know about Austin Butler’s New Fiance ::

Although his reps couldn't be reached for comment, sources close to the Elvis actor confirm he has popped the question to his mysterious lady love!

Butler and the stunning brunette were recently spotted at the iconic Les Puces market in Paris last Friday, and she seemed to be sporting a new accessory. Austin was dressed in a black leather jacket, a white v neck tee, and black moto boots. She was clad in a classic trench coat and vintage Dior kitten heels as she kept her head down and let the winner lead the way. His face was mostly obscured by aviator sunglasses, but his smile was very apparent according to onlookers. “Austin was holding her hand and pointing out jewelry at different booths. They were very friendly with local vendors and Austin ended up buying her a gold charm bracelet. He told the dealer the bracelet was a momento to celebrate their recent engagement,” a fellow American tourist overheard. The twosome reportedly spent the prior week soaking in the city of lights and meeting with the YSL fashion house. Austin was recently tapped as the brand's newest ambassador.

Since returning stateside paparazzi pics have finally surfaced and revealed a closer look at that ring. Montana based indie jeweler Jada Kaye has been revealed as the designer of that serious sparkler. The 5 carat, flawless emerald-cut emerald is set in solid gold and flanked by two white diamonds on either side. Inside sources told Elle Magazine that Kaye and Butler worked closely together to craft the one of a kind creation. There's even rumored to be an inscription on the inside that's significant to the couple and the ring is estimated to cost a cool $100,000. Austin's fiancè was photographed heading into a ballet studio yesterday wearing pink tights, a pink leotard, Ugg boots, and of course that ring. Her curly dark brown hair was slicked back into a bun and she seemed to be sporting a pair of the actor's sunglasses.

Here's everything you need to know about the future Mrs. Austin Butler;

She's from New England —

A, as she's known, was born in Rhode Island. She grew up splitting her time between Rhode Island and Kennebunkport, Maine. Her teenage years were spent working the local Del’s lemonade truck, former neighbors say. She attended the Rhode Island School of Design after high school but never graduated.

She and Austin met via her former job –

Whilst working at the New York location of Vibrant Vintage, A, served as the fashion archives buyer. She also happened to be on hand when Butler visited the store. Supposedly she helped him find the perfect pair of leather boots, and the rest is history. Things clearly moved quickly between the two lovebirds, with A relocating to Los Angeles not long after. According to Vibrant Vintage, she is no longer employed there but “remains a close friend and consultant,” says their PR team.

She's a hit with his friends –

She organized a birthday party for her man’s co-star and close friend, Callum Turner. Turner posted an Instagram story showing off a fairly large garden party celebration and a “homemade blueberry glaze cake” according to the post. “Huge thanks to Austin's lovely lady xx” accompanied the video footage. She and Austin were also seen dining with his other Masters of the Air co-star, Nate Mann, while in Paris recently.

They've (supposedly ) got matching ink –

An unnamed employee at the iconic Bang Bang tattoo in NYC has said that Austin and A made a late night visit to the tattoo studio. Where exactly are the said-to-be matching minimalistic tattoos? Reportedly, Austin was inked on his left hip and A on her inner left thigh.

Old fashioned love letters are her thing -

Notably social media shy, Austin and A have taken up the lost art of handwritten love notes. Sources exclusively say that custom monogrammed stationery was crafted for the duo whilst Austin was filming in England. The hand pressed, vintage inspired paper bears a unique coat of arms style symbol with intertwining letter A’s and two sparrows (Fun fact! Sparrows mate for life and always find their way back, no matter how far they fly). While separated, the couple often writes letters to one another, even having the letters sent via jet instead of mail for privacy reasons!

_______

Suddenly one morning articles begin to pour in about your engagement. It catches you off guard, that ring akin to a skating rink has been sitting pretty on your hand for a bit now. The engagement had happened so naturally as everything with the two of you seems to. In the early morning hours while his swollen, rock hard member thrusts into you repeatedly you begin to awaken. On your side, his teeth clamp down on your shoulder as his finger twirls round the curls at the nape of your neck.

His gasps and needy groans tickle your ear. “Couldn't help myself..”, he shudders as you suddenly clamp down around him, barely able to register it all. You stretch and arch, allowing him the room and space to take what he needs. It is his after all. His teeth and pillowy soft lips mark your shoulder blades and when you reach down to where the two of you are joined, you feel his very full balls. Your newly manicured fingers tease and tug the best you can, scrunched up like some sort of acrobat. “Ugh, ugh…baby… you're gonna make me -”. Then he does. Hot, viscous, cream floods you and makes you sigh in a contented whimper. “Thanks darlin’,” he pets your head and you close your eyes dreamily. That is until you hear him rustling around in the bedside table next to him.

You cock open an eye, figuring he's looking for smokes or even the book he had been reading late last night. Your hands are stretched above your head, gripping a pillow. The perfect position for him to suddenly slip the most gorgeous piece of jewelry you've ever seen onto your finger. When your eyes shoot open and you jump up, he's lying there grinning that smile that makes you weak at the knees. “Will you be my wife?” As if your answer would be anything but yes, please Daddy. You smother him in kisses, straddling him and giggling. It's the perfect moment, the perfect proposal. You were never one to want a fireworks display or heaven forbid, those ridiculous and wasteful walls of flowers other celebrities seem to have for every occasion. This private, simple moment is everything you could ask for.

You feel the sudden urge to take him in your mouth despite him just finishing. With your head hanging off the side of the bed, you take him down your throat. Choking and gagging, you really give it your all. Fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his lip curls and his eyes slam shut. Talking is always your thing. This time, though, he's sputtering and rasping words of utter devotion and love. Promises to worship your body until the day he dies. My perfect, perfect wife. Soon you can't be sure if the tears are from his cock down your throat, or his beautiful words. Maybe both. Those pretty boy fingers twist and tug on your nipples and then crawl lower and flick that special spot. The only fireworks you enjoy happen, twice for you actually. He's so dutiful and charming, when you're done pulling yourself back together and fixing your hair, he's handing you a surprise glass of champagne. What a way to mark the occasion.

You decline a proper press announcement. Phone and FaceTime calls follow to those who truly matter to you both - your families, both absolutely thrilled. Then Baz, Cal, The Presley's, everyone can't stop gushing about how perfect you are for each other. That ring, oh how sweet he designed it himself. You come up with a family-appropriate story to describe the proposal and the evening that followed, conveniently leaving out the mind-blowing sex the two of you have all over the house and in the hot tub. Why do things feel so different now that you're engaged? You can't get over the way the light hits the ring as you stroke him and something in that dirty girl heart of yours feels like it's really, truly, official when you have to clean his cum off the stone.

He's due back to set for some reshoots a few days later and of course you follow. Bringing throw pillows from your living room to spruce up his trailer and plotting out how to plan the most private, under the radar wedding possible while you lounge in his trailer in a cute little dress you sew yourself from vintage scarves bought in London. Your newest hobby, that and the ballet classes. He yammers on and on about wanting to sneak in and see you dance. You're sure it's just the tights and leotards spurring his interest though, let's be real. The paparazzi are as relentless as ever, but head down with big sunglasses helps keep the chaos at bay.

You visit Disney World, a whole crew, the two of you, your families, friends with their little ones. Thankfully Disney security is familiar with celebrity guests and you can actually let your guard down for once. Which is good, because seeing Austin chase after your friend's newly toddling little ones makes your stomach flip flop with joy. You make a mental note to expedite the wedding plans, he makes it known that he's chomping at the bit to be a father. When you visit Main Street, you decide a pair of new Mickey ears are in order. Gold stitching with Mrs. Butler is what you finally decide on after Austin's encouragement, his hand on your lower back as you walk miles and miles around the park with hands full of churros and cotton candy. Sure, some overzealous fans snap cell phone pics of you with your ears and immediately post them to those ridiculous Austin fan blogs who've now decided you are the evil villain in his story. You won't allow them to burst your Disney bubble though. Your fairytale is just beginning after all.

__

[theatrepup]

1926 New Yorker magazine illustration and advertisement for the silent horror film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, to be featured at the Fifth Avenue Playhouse on 66 Fifth Avenue in NYC. The illustration reads, "The very rotund and kindly-looking old gentleman can be seen at the Fifth Avenue Playhouse. He is about to waken his friend, who will stretch a bit and go out and commit a murder or two." ;D The advertisement reads, "The U.F.A. Masterpiece, with a delightful program including a Chaplin revival." https://archive.org/details/sim_the-new-yorker_1926-11-13_2_39/mode/2up

https://archive.org/details/sim_the-new-yorker_1926-11-20_2_40/mode/2up

[sueheesblog]

I just wanna share something my friend had said to me when we saw The Bear SZN 1 n 2 for the first. I remember she said "Oh, he's looking at her like he saw her before n he's shock to see her here (at The Beef)". This was SZN1 E1. I thought Carmy was just smitten by Sydney. You know, maybe he thought she was was pretty. I never thought about what my friend said.

Now, she finished SZN 3, and she decided to put a bunch of nonsense in my head like she did(or tried to do) with SZN 1 n 2. She's now saying "What if Carmy decided to check who got his blood orange dish and saw Syd" "what if Syd knows Carmy through magazines n Google. But, Carmy knows Syd because he actually saw her and remembered her from the restaurant in NYC " 😭😭😭 - This shit never crossed my mind. This is some outta pocket, otta box, and outta the ocean thinking 😂🤣😂🤣

I know my friend is crazy n extra. I wish she used social media 😭😭 But, her way of thinking made me feel stuff n thangs. She's trying to convince me that Carmy had a crush on Syd before they met in EP1 SZN 1 and that is why he never called her out on the "My dad use to eat here every Sunday" lie. She also thinks the reason y Syd calms Carmy's panic attack in Ep 9 SZN 2 was because he received the highest compliment from the woman who turns out to be the person who enjoyed his first meal (the follow his heart meal), who is now his new crush.

She used these things to back up her crazy theory.

1. Carmy was ready to give Syd what she wanted after 1 week of meeting her. "This is what you wanted" SZN 1:3

2. His sublet stares and smiles when he saw her or spoke to her.

3. The fact that he took it hard when she walked out on him n called him "a piece of shit".

4. Telling T that she dresses like Syd.

5. Gave Claire wrong number because he's over her. And things are going great with him and his new crush (Syd)

6. He's asking Syd "you happy" in SZN2:3. Because making her happy, makes him happy.

7. Then Claire used the Faks (who are now known has a family of haunting) to find Carmy

8. Carmy's past is now haunting him. My friend also said the haunting actually started when Claire enters Carmy's life, but season 3 is using the Faks to shed light on it. Therefore, she believes Carmy is having a hard time facing Claire, because he knew from the beginning he didn't like her, but decided to give her a chance to see if his crush for Syd would fade. The worst part is that Claires haunting comes with alot luggage (Carmys mom, his old boss, Mickey, and everything bad)So basically my friend thinks both Syd n Carmy have a crush on each other, but none of them know it, and they both refuse to be the first one to confess it. And they are now aware of the shit they will have to go through together if they decide to acknowledge that invisible string between them and still stick by each other.

Y'all my friend got me Fxcked all the way up after she finished season 3, and started telling me all them crazy stuff..... I need y'all to agree with me that she's crazyyyyyy. Maybe someone can use her crazy ideas and write a fanfic?? Please.

[tjalexandernyc]

All these books feature trans and nonbinary main characters. All these books got jokes. All these books have painfully earnest queer love stories that end happily 🌈😘

Some quick rundowns!

Chef's Kiss (2022) is the story of grumpy pastry chef Simone and her new sunshiney coworker Ray working at a gourmet magazine that's trying to pivot to video. They end up being forced to collaborate on a series while Ray comes out as nonbinary at at work. It's a slow burn with lots of hurt/comfort and craft beer. I have been told reading this has made people very hungry.

Chef's Choice (2023) is a sequel to Chef's Kiss but can stand alone. Luna, Simone's roommate, loses her job and is approached the same day by a French guy named JP who needs to hire a fake girlfriend. For inheritance reasons, they have to learn to cook a specific menu of haute cuisine to appease his culinary empire family. There is only one bed and lots of cheese plates. I THINK this is also the first (only?) T4T romance published by a big 5 house. (If anyone knows of any others, please tell me!)

Second Chances in New Port Stephen (2023) is about Eli, a trans man who returns to his hometown in South Florida for Christmas after many years away and the first time post-transition. He reconnects with his first boyfriend and childhood best friend, Nick, who is now a divorced single dad. This is a dual POV second chance romance about memory and trauma but I promise it's funny. It's also a tribute to elder millennials turning 40 and probably my most personal book so far. I have been informed that Nick's father, Mr. Wu, is the only perfect man and I tend to agree.

Triple Sec (2024) is about Mel, a bartender at a swanky NYC cocktail bar, who has an instant connection with a beautiful patron, but is crushed to find out Bebe is married. Luckily, polyamory exists and Bebe and Kade, her genderqueer wife, have an open marriage. Told in three parts, the story covers the budding romance between Mel and Bebe, the unexpected attraction between Mel and Kade, and finally all three of them getting together, with Mel's citywide cocktail competition happening in the background. It's fluffy, steamy, and has a fun little tie-in for fans of the Chef's books. This might also be the first poly romance published by a big 5? Contemporary, at least.

If you want to support my queer, trans books, please pick up a copy at your local indie bookstore or online, or get one from your library, or tell a friend you think might dig them. I want to keep writing books for queer and trans people for a very long time, and the only way I can do that is with your help!

[celeste444spacey]

Things we can learn from the Upper East Side- A guide to how our fave tv elites deal with fame, success and attention.

So you're famous now, can you handle it?

What better than to learn the art of fame from none other than our favorite teenage dirtbags involved in scandals, betrayals, well drawn out revenges with constant reputation destroying and restoring... our holy grail : Gossip Girl.

If there's one thing we can learn from these horrible rich kids making way more horrible decisions, it's handling attention and fame.

You might argue and say they were a bunch of teens who were downright horrible to each other, but i'd argue they did handle speculation and rumors way better than we would (questionably at times however).

So here's a few things i observed on the show compiled into a guide, just so you can handle fame well too!

1

They did not let the gossip girl blasts get to them.

This is quite frankly the first observation i'd make. They did not give a damn about the blasts gossip girl made (there were instances that would upset them but it wouldn't take over their life), however they did use it to their advantage.

2

Media is your downfall but it is also your biggest weapon.

As much as they didn't pay much heed to Gossip Girl, they'd leverage it to get their narrative across- wrong or not.

This happens in media as well, magazines and entertainment news sites are not only rumour spreaders, they can be effectively used to control your narrative. So you must be strategic about it. This is pretty much what PR teams do. And this is why celebrities spend millions of dollars on these people. They are strategists.

3

People pleasing is impossible. Stop caring what others think- or say

It's lonely at the top, so it should be obvious that not everyone will understand your position or like that you hold it. But it is how it is, so start living for yourself and YOUR purpose rather than caring what other people think of thing you do.

4

Create a brand. You are unique. Trademark your energy.

Serena Van Der Woodsen: it girl, martinis, gold, paparazzi, free spiritedness, VS energy, glitters and sparkles, nyc at night, dream girl

Blair Waldorf: sleepovers, headbands, satin, cartier, henry bendel, bergdorf, louboutins, schemer, macaroons, audrey hepburn

Nate Archibald: guy next door, blue, old money, prince charming, basketball, kindness, dream guy

Chuck Bass: business, scotch, womanizer, fur coats, i'm chuck bass, scandal, strategist, bad boy, private jets, limos, womanizer

Dan Humphrey: writer, the "good" guy, outcast turned insider, nyu, playwright, chinese take out

I don't gotta explain, you know exactly what i mean.

5

Strategy strategy strategy

Everything is strategy, business, academia, entertainment, sports. EVERYTHING. It's not a day on the upper east side without strategy, so even fame needs strategy on the behind. Marketing and creative needs to be well thought out, the way to rack up sales does, even preparing for your mid terms or scoring a goal or even winning an f1 race. Strategy. Is. Everything.

And that concludes my post. Lemme know what you think!

Masterlist here

Celebrity energy series here

[maryp50]

https://www.tumblr.com/maryp50/764727605136097280?source=share

im curious to know what your thoughts on this scene were!

Hi anon! Okay, so don't come for me, but my thoughts and feelings about that scene in particular, and Lindsay in general, are not exactly on the positive side. Also, I'm not the best at articulating my thoughts about my blorbos so this might be a jumbled mess.

So anyways, that scene is really irritating to me because Lindsay has the audacity to ask Brian if he's gonna be alright without Justin when she's the one who orchestrated his going to NYC. Like, yes, I know that Brian and Justin are both adults and made this decision together. But frankly they were pushed into it, specifically Brian. Justin had already told her New York wasn't his dream, that he could paint anywhere, and Lindsay didn't like that answer. So she makes sure Brian knows about the article, which btw, one glowing article in one trade magazine does not a career make, but I digress. She knows the way Brian feels about success and money and making something of oneself and she thinks Justin's wrong and she knows Brian will figure out a way to make him go. And on top of that, she's taking Gus away! So yeah, that scene is upsetting to me that Lindsay asks this of Brian when she's a big part of him losing two people he loves most, Justin and Gus.

I realize that Brian is a big boy and makes his own decisions. But a lot of them are made with the idea that he is unlovable and should not be anyone's first choice when opportunity lies ahead. Especially when it comes to Justin. And Justin knows this about Brian, and he is also very aware of how Brian feels about success and money and building a career, which is why I believe he didn't show the article to Brian himself. He knows Brian's gonna push him to go and he doesn't want to, at least he didn't the two times the article is mentioned by Lindsay and then by Brian in that cute scene at the end of 5x12.

This next bit isn't about that scene anymore, I did warn you I ramble lol, but I don't think Brian and Justin should have got married, at least not at the time of the end of the show. Maybe down the line. But how can they get married when neither of them discussed, not even once, what marriage meant to them. Like what are Justin's expectations for marriage, specifically being married to Brian? What are Brian's? It would have been nice to have seen a convo between them about that, and it didn't even need to be something long and drawn out, I'm sure a few minute scene would have sufficed. Because they were both assuming a helluva of a lot of shit that other wanted from, or thought about marriage, without discussing it at all. And that contributed to the "that's not love, that's sacrifice" BS that Brian spouts (I say BS because, yes Brian, sometimes one does need to make sacrifices for love), and Justin going to NYC.

So, yes I know there are other issues at play with the decision for Justin to go to NYC, and that Brian and Justin make this decision for themselves, but imo the seeds were planted by Lindsay. Because she apparently knows what's best for Justin, even tho Justin is also a big boy and had his mind made up before she meddled.

Sorry this took so long, I had to gather my thoughts and then typing this all out took a lot longer than I thought it would lol.

[annislittleshopofhorrors]

You know, I love your blog and your funny/shady comments about 🐟 unable to handle her husband getting the attention and not her.

But I’ll admit, I always laughed it off because we can say that but nobody really knows what’s happening.

Until yesterday. LMAO. I know, I’m sorry for not really listening to some of y’all… but she needs some serious help and for once, to put down her goddamn phone.

I also realized that I knew she was going to try and do something to put the attention back on her and nothing she does on IG is ever a coincidence. This is the actions of a very manipulative but also very stupid individual with narcissistic tendencies. To her five asskissers, look away.

She follows that light and dwell designer the day after people made fun of her for showing her PT apt (btw, now I wonder if she was hoping people would think it was the house her husband was allegedly building for her in PT like some blogs believe)

When that didn’t work, follow this designer lady back after months (funny how she does this quite often when she’s not getting the attention she wants).

Follows some random directors. She still wants a job. That custom ugly furniture ain’t gunna pay for itself!

Posts a random photo dump of suggestive photos to indicate nothing but also making sure the ones who care will try and figure out if she’s in MA, NY, NYC, Canada, Wherever the narrative of where she lives fits.

meanwhile, her husband is in NYC filming with his attractive female costar who is much more well known than her (even if it’s the nepo baby comments) and has two films of her own coming out this month and her Madame web movie is still doing pretty well on Netflix.

Their pap photos are much better received by the general public and have comments shipping them and wishing they were together instead. Yikes!! Also…they actually do look good together. They fit.

Btw, I don’t think 🐟 is jealous of Dakota because of Chris. TBH, I don’t think she’s into her “husband” at all. From her actions, she doesn’t care about him or his well being. She cares about what his name can do for her. That’s it. And right now his name is being lumped with Dakota and not hers and I think it’s pissing her off. She needs to get those cheap outfits comped one way or another and her Liberia film isn’t cutting it. Miumiu not calling her back and nobody wants to see her in a solo pap walk….so.

Sorry to all the team asslickers on here but even you have to admit yesterday was a hilarious show your ass moment.

Sidenote: I like to think CE is putting on a bigger effort to look like he likes Dakota because Celine song is directing this film and he wants to do well for her. And also, he seems to simply just like Dakota. She’s pretty hilarious in her own right when she’s not being a flat actress 🤣 and maybe…just maybe, he wants to show you all whose watching that he does know how to act like he’s in love with someone. He just didn’t want to the last time he was in that park.

😉❤️

Yep, she doesn't care about him (and I don't think he cares about her). It's all about using his name to be mentioned in some gossip magazines. Otherwise these magazines wouldn't talk about her. And even the Portuguese magazines have to mention him when they talk about her. The Portuguese people don't care about her. I'm not even sure if they know her name.

[theunderestimator-2]

Few bands can claim a place in five different musical histories - hip hop, new wave, house music, funk & punk. ESG, here captured at Tier 3, NYC in 1980, definitely hold such a unique place.

“When Mrs Scroggins bought her teenage daughters – Renee, Valerie, Deborah and Marie – musical instruments in the mid-’70s, all she was doing was trying to keep them off the streets of the South Bronx. She had no idea she’d just created one of the most exciting and influential bands to come out of the music scene of ’80s New York. ESG -short for Emerald, Sapphire and Gold- distilled the black and Hispanic sounds of the city into a tight, stripped-down new genre that some people called ‘punk-funk’.”

timeout.com/

The sisters, after the addition of their friend Tito on percussion, the band started taking part in talent shows in 1978, supported The Clash & Grandmaster Flash, played at NYC’s hottest venues, like Danceteria or Paradise Garage and ended up in Manchester, where they played the opening night of the fabled Hacienda after signing with Tony Wilson’s Factory Records, who caught them performing at Hurrah in the Upper West Side of Manhattan in 1981.

Their debut EP under the same name was recorded 3 days after they flew over from NY, produced by the legendary Mancunian producer Martin Hannett (whose portfolio included Joy Division, the Durutti Column, Magazine, John Cooper Clarke, New Order, OMD & Happy Mondays). Hannett had three minutes left on the master tape, so he had the band record "UFO”, which eventually became one of the most sampled songs in hip-hop history, since it has been sampled over 500 times by just about every hip hop producer going.

(via)