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curlyfriesgalore · 23 days ago

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curly can't sing.

as the title says, it's a headcanon i randomly had when playing my mouthwashing sims 4 household (lol), where swansea and curly went karaoke-ing at 'waterside warble' in san myshuno. curly sang horrendously since he just gained the skill. though, it made me think, how funny would it be if curly genuinely couldn't sing for shit?

it's the one thing jimmy has leverage over (he's no better, really), and curly is painfully aware of his tone-deafness, so he never reveals it unless it's for a special occasion... with an extra special someone there to watch him perform (miserably).

that being said, daisuke suggested the crew do something fun to celebrate the completion of their shipment, so why not do some karaoke?

★ a sfw one-shot broken down into bullets with chat-format segments for dialogue. fair warning, there are a few suggestive moments, but the implications aren't overt. [2,817 words]

☆ gen tags: set in 2005. gn! reader who is a doctor and a great singer. none of the game's events happen, so they're just a bunch of folks doing regular space deliveries, but jimmy is still an unpleasant ass that gets on the reader's nerves. reader and curly are crushing on each other (they're on the brink of knowing it's reciprocal). manfailure curly but he's trying his best... whatever that best is (lmfao, accurate to canon 😭). curly -> grant (name switch at some point in the fic). there's one moment where curly and reader share a glass, so just letting you know in case you're not a fan of that :)

[i'm still on break, but i wanted to write something more concise and improvised in under a day! and i won't lie, i find fics including everyone to be so fun to write. i really love testing out my characterizations of the crew and have them interact in relaxed scenarios. art by kafukafukadayo on twt. —iris🌠]

while you bask in the dim hues of red lights, the instrumental of an electropop softens into silence as it tandems with your pants. when you peel your eyes open, everyone's gaping their mouths and raising their brows—even jimmy, ever the unimpressed, is surprisingly taken aback, and you're taken aback by that alone.

daisuke springs from the leather sofa. he bounds towards you, grips both your shoulders, and shakes you senselessly, his hand still somehow clutching his open flip phone.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"doc, that... was... INSANE!" he jostles your body back and forth between his pauses, swaying you with all his might as he nearly forces the microphone to drop out your hand. daisuke swishes his head, finally letting you go, "wh—buh?! how do you—are you imogen heap reincarnated?!"

anya snorts, sounding like a stuffed trumpet. "dai, imogen's alive! she's only 27." swansea follows suit, his deep chuckle rumbling through his belly, crossed arms resting atop. "pfft, that's far from dead."

daisuke rolls his eyes away from the two, "tch, you get what i mean! like, look—!" he speedily dials the buttons on his phone, opening his gallery and brandishing a pixelated clip of you singing along to the mbira melody and string bass beats, the crunchy electronic syncs with your ethereal mezzo-soprano. daisuke snaps the phone shut with his palm, raising his free hand in surrender. "if that's not the lead singer of frou frou, then i don't know who is." he takes the remote, looking through what next to sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

amid the nurse, mechanic, and intern belting their lungs out to "hey ya!" curly sits, and you stand before him. his ocean eyes swim in awe as he cranes his neck to face you. you're glowing. your head perfectly aligns right in front of the carmine light; its luminescence filters around your shadowed outline, like you were some angel graced from above with an even more angelic voice to come with. it was sort of comical how the largest man in the room felt so small beneath your presence.

there's a dew of sweat hanging below your bottom lip, and curly can't help but bite his. that is until he slips his teeth back in when you cushion yourself onto the couch, spreading your legs wide with an arm lounging on the headrest behind him. curly huffed a laugh and leaned into the shiny sofa, letting his scalp fall onto your forearm.

even with your tongue tucked inside your parted lips, curly could practically see your papillae beg for freshness. he smiles, momentarily stretching his back away from the couch to grab your drink and hands it to you. a raspy thanks escape your parched throat.

your neck bobs with every gulp, drinking like it's the last you'll ever taste water. curly tries his hardest not to let his gaze linger longer than it should, but the way your head tilts back and your hand grips the glass, he can't help but swallow some of that imaginary water himself.

a contented sigh leaves you. you flick your eyes to him and just about see the last of his adam's apple slurp up nothing. you gesture the drink, asking if he wants it. curly is briefly hesitant until he turns to see his empty cup and shrugs, "sure, why not?"

as curly takes his sip, he notices the beaded sweat shining on your lip more notably than before. his brows raise ever so subtly, ruminating his next moves. when you still fail to realize the wetness glistening at your mouth's rim, he pulls the drink away from himself.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, can i...?"

your eyes widen softly as you watch his thumb inch toward your jaw. you flick your view down, puffing out your lower lip to see a dab of sweat cling onto you for dear life. you look back at him and nod. curly gently takes a hold of your chin, thumbing the sudor away while his remaining fingers brush against your neck. you take in the moment, eyes half-lidded and lips ever so parted. he wasn't glancing at you, but you could tell he wanted to, for his warm breath quiets the longer you study him—noticing the way his tongue peeks out his mouth or how his golden greying hair falls over the wrinkles etched into his temple. "you know," moments before he drops his hand, he finally manages to look you in the eye, your faces merely inches apart. "your performance really gave me chills." you smirked, "is that why you didn't speak up?" your tease brought curly to a laugh, the bass in his voice strong. "i can't help but be mesmerized when that's how you sing, doc."

you hummed a titter, nodding to yourself as you thanked him with a delicate smile. "you can drop the formalities, grant. we're at a karaoke bar, not the tulpar."

whether or not you noticed the hitch in his breath, grant softened upon hearing his first name, oftentimes forgetting that's who he actually is. his head tilts down, blithely sighing before picking himself up to show you his grin, "okay, okay..." he momentarily chuckles, now resting his elbow on the headrest, propping it up, and leaning onto his knuckles next to your arm still lying there. "well, my point still stands. you have an incredibly captivating voice, y/n." "oh, stop it...!" you both become a blushing, giggling mess. your other hand finds its way to rest on your knee, which sits right against grant's. as you speak about your singing history, grant brings his free palm to his thigh, pretending to unintentionally graze his calloused fingers against your nails. he listens intently to how you'd belt out your favorite songs on repeat, albeit the sound of daisuke and anya screaming, "HEEEY YAAA!" and the tidbits of exhaustion lingering in his mind make your words muffle into incoherent jargon.

"but enough about me, i wanna hear you." you catch his eyes snapping away from both his and your legs smushing together, hoping you don't notice the blankness in his brain. "or are you just charming me to stall your big reveal, hm?"

grant's jaw falls, and utterances of filler words filter out his mouth, but before he can respond, daisuke catches wind of their conversation as outkast's song dies down in the background.

"oh, yeah!" daisuke takes a swig of his soda. after a sigh of satisfaction and couple of lip smacks, daisuke leaps from his end of the couch and motions to the two, microphone in hand. "it's your turn to solo, captain!"

"uhh, i don't know if i should..." grant sheepishly waves the mic away, his eyes shifting between everyone's expressions. daisuke is pouting and pleading with puppy eyes. anya just gives him a thumbs-up and a classic comforting smile. swansea is indifferent. jimmy, who's been leaning against the palm tree printed wall for the past four songs, beer in hand, grows an all-too-familiar smirk. then there's you, expectantly looking at him with overlaid eyes he wishes to see in a different setting... that of his bedroom—

"aww, why not, curl? we've done our parts. 's only fair you do yours, too." jimmy's tone was far from welcoming, sounding more like a jab than anything. you narrowed your sights at him, "didn't you only sing in the group ones?" jimmy shrugs. "look," after taking another chug of his can, raising his hands in defeat. "my karaoke quota's been filled. sorry." you simply roll your eyes. before the tension thickens, daisuke interjects, "ah, don't worry, cap. i bet your voice sounds super cool, like superhero cool! you've got that gruffness that swan's got... but y'know... less croaky n' stuff!" "'scuze me?" swansea lifts a single brow, anya stifles a laugh, and daisuke flails his hands in defense, "eh- i mean it as a compliment! you've got a sick voice, swansea." "emphasis on sick..." anya cheekily comments under her breath, and for the first time in forever, swansea's jaw drops. he coughs out a laugh that's been lodged in his throat for god knows how long and shakes his head, pointing his thumb at the giggling woman. "wowww, aren't you, the nurse, supposed to be fixing that?" anya nods to you, "only under doctor's orders." the two have a back and forth, but daisuke still stands in front of grant, intent on lending the mic to the man.

"i—okay..." grant crumbles under the pressure, caving in when you whisper a couple of encouragements. daisuke cheers, anya claps, swansea bobs his head in support, jimmy fakes a whoop, and you—genuinely—hype him up with a holler.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

grant purses his lip as he presses the buttons on the remote while daisuke guides him through the songs on the screen.

jimmy leaves his spot, his boot denting a scuff mark on the wallpaper. your nose flares, watching him carelessly toss the can into the bin as he makes his way to sandwich you between him and swansea, purposefully maximizing the width of how far he can stretch his legs.

you ignore him, opting to watch someone much cuter. grant turns to you, awkwardly smiling as you return a thumbs-up. he focuses back on daisuke, who's now raving over a song he definitely thinks grant should sing.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you know he's shit, right?" your brows contort into a furrow, still not looking at the man. "the fuck you mean?" you never had much patience for jimmy, of all people, so your courtesies never fail to fall short with him. "you know who i mean—him." jimmy gestures to grant, pointer finger flicking at the blond. "no shit, sherlock. i'm saying, what are you specifically referring to?" "obviously, his voice, sherlock." he drawls the two syllables, the stench of yeast and malt oozing out of his mouth and into your unfortunate nose. "he'll make your ears bleed, trust me." finally, you face him and stare at jimmy's smugness with an incredulous squint. seriously, how the fuck does grant put up with him? you couldn't even stand the guy's presence, let alone his incessant insults on grant himself. "do you do anything but complain?" you sneer. "nope." jimmy curtly replies, mouthing a pop after the 'p' as he claws a hand over the chips bowl, stuffing his face with grease. at this point, you weren't sure if you should stay annoyed or be slightly impressed with his sheer ability to find the worst in everything. "some fucking friend..." you say to yourself, already past the point of defeat. with his mouth still full of food, jimmy responds, "hey, as his friend, i'm actively warning you. i've known this guy long enough to be there for his first choir class." "whatever, we'll see." you huffed, relaxing on the couch, sitting much closer to swansea than the other. "it's not like you've got much credibility, anyway." you think back to moments ago, whenever it was jimmy's turn to sing his parts, his half-assed attempts barely constitutes as a grumble. jimmy snickers, "who says i'm denying that? just 'cause i don't care doesn't mean i'm wrong."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

you have never been more relieved to hear a soft pop interlude, forcing the conversation to a close.

daisuke flops onto the sofa next to anya and flips open his phone, pressing record as the tv flashes the music video to "shape of my heart." you lean behind swansea and lock eyes with daisuke, who abashedly giggles when you mouth, 'you chose this, didn't you?' to which he nods excitedly.

ah, daisuke, ever the avid backstreet boys fanatic.

your eyes fall back to grant. the man fidgets with his microphone, and his shoe frantically taps to the beat, pursing his lips into a tight smile in hopes it will clench down the shivers rising with the guitar strums. you silently cheer him on when he starts humming, following the yellow highlight filling up the white text reading ♪ yeah, yeah ♪, and—

oh!

...oh

oh, god.

jimmy... wasn't wrong, far from it, actually—as much as it pains you to admit.

the very moment grant hits that ♪ baby ♪, it's all downhill from here. it's as if his pitch took a trip to six flags. his questionably paced breaths mimic a ride with an unnecessary amount of loop-the-loops, and his tone flip-flops between a coarse rasp and an oddly airy twang, like a reverse bungee slingshotting into the air.

grant's eyes squeeze shut, facing away from the crew. either he was incredibly invested or excruciatingly embarrassed, and with how he was really getting into that chorus, nobody could tell. he only ever peeks to look at you, though, clearly awaiting your approval, to whom you always beam, your face mixed in pity and affection.

as much as he sounded like a crow was clawing its way out of his esophagus, you couldn't help but find his attempts to be really wholesome. maybe it's your pre-existing bias, and maybe it's because this feels like he's serenading every line at you, but it's hard not to fall for this vocal failure of a man—even though everyone else's expressions say otherwise.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"told you so," jimmy taunts in your ear, sickeningly chuckling at grant without hesitation. "woo! curly, you go, dude!" he cheers, voice dipped in mockery. all you do is click your tongue and face the others, choosing to listen in on anya and swansea. "you sure i'm the one that's 'sick'?" swansea jokes, albeit laced with genuine disgust. he leans to you, whispering the same revulsion, "you both need to rethink your careers."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya simply grimaces, trying her hardest to make it look like a grin, but her knit brows and frown give way.

daisuke's eyes say everything. they're wide, and his pupils constrict like he's a cartoon. his hand hesitantly grips onto his flip phone, unsure if he should keep the camera going. as his leg rapidly bounces and his teeth bite down on his paint-chipped nails, his gaze slowly turns away from grant's caterwauling and towards the rest of the crew.

moreover, you're just as guilty. although you're not irked by this newfound fact, a wince washes over you the moment you are out of grant's sights.

suddenly, after the first chorus, the song reveals a blue highlight painting the white text. grant falters, his voice shrinking when he sees the two primary colors play different lyrics simultaneously. everyone takes notice, their faces easing from cringe to confusion. then it clicks.

this was a duet.

daisuke palms his face with a slap—that's his bad. you skim the room, and everyone's exchanging glances, implicitly questioning who'll aid their poor captain.

without hesitation, you jump to the rescue. snatching a mic from the coffee table and quickly singing your parts, striding your way towards grant, who immediately picks up where he's left off, still shrill as ever.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

♪ i'M hEre WIDTH myYy...! confEh shion ♪, in a sheer attempt at confidence, grant belts his lyrics. his dimples dig into his smile, sending you the much-needed energy to sing your lines. ♪ got nothing to hide no more ♪. you sway your head in accordance with the melody, ball up your fist, and let your fingers spread far and wide, wiping the air as you and grant's steps magnetize toward each other. ♪ i don't kNOw whe...rE to st-art ♪; warbling his words, grant's gaze softens when you're within arms reach. he lowers his neck, brings the mic close to his lips, and grazes your forearm, wishing he could feel the flush skin of your waist and reel you in. ♪ but to show you... ♪, as both lyrics meld into one, you take his hand into yours. ♪...the shA-pe of mY hEart ♪

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke bursts into song, singing the first line of the last verse, startling everyone in the process. anya joins in, now standing with daisuke as both pull swansea to his feet. the mechanic begrudgingly croons along to his intern's baritone and his nurse's soprano.

daisuke beckons for jimmy to come with him, but in classic jimmy zare fashion, he remains stagnant. the younger man frowns. though, he quickly reminds himself that there are only five members in BSB, anyway. so daisuke hands jimmy his phone instead, telling the co-pilot to make sure that everyone's in frame.

they've turned this into a concert for a one-man audience, who's hating every second of it.

save for jimmy, currently grousing under his breath, the crew wraps their arms around each other's shoulders and chants their hearts out to the R&B melody.

as the track nears its final moments, you and grant rest your hands on each other's waists, pulling your bodies close as your head leans on his pec. neither of you realizes that you've left the other three, who are all too busy rocking side to side to notice the two of you in a side embrace, minds too carried away to feel jimmy's prickly leer.

[oh my god, i genuinely didn't even intend for this ending, but here we are 🥹! i hope you guys liked this, and if anyone has comments on how i wrote everyone's dialogue and mannerisms, like what worked, or if you have suggestions for any additions, please let me know! i still need to learn more about writing anya, since in canon, it's hard to get a read of her real personality through jimmy's lens. still, so far, i like to think she enjoys teasing people she's comfortable with. as for swansea, i'm trying to lean into his meanness more, but i'm saving most of that for a daisuke fic centered on swansea's pov, so we'll see what i do when i get there! —iris🌠]

#🌠 leads to my masterlist #realistically though i think curly would be pretty good at singing #he seems like the type to have good breath control because of how much he frequents the gym #btw could you guys tell which song i made you sing at the start? 🤭#i also hope you guys get what i was doing with curly's lines in the duet 😭#i think the pov might be a little all over the place? i kind of intended it to just be general and not really stick to anyone specifically #curly x reader #curly x you #mouthwashing x reader #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing #karaoke #captain curly #nurse anya #intern daisuke #engineer swansea #copilot jimmy #grant curly #anya musume #daisuke juarez #jimmy zare #BYE i accidentally made jimmy agree that he's wrong when he's being a jerk to the reader lmaooo. it's fixed though

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fotos-art · 6 months ago

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COLOSSAL

Art Craft Photography

Embroidered Patches Redefine Vintage Postcards and Photographs by Fiber Artist Han Cao

JULY 24, 2020. GRACE EBERT

“Nice hair.” All images © Han Cao

Through densely laid cross-stitches and whorls of thread, Han Cao revitalizes discarded photographs and postcards. Similar to the artist’s previous projects, her latest series New Nostalgia strikes a balance between the original subjects and the fiber-based additions. Sometimes covering faces with sparse dandelion puffs or confetti-like burst, Cao redefines the vintage pieces and explores how narratives linger as she stitches plumes of train steam that trail beyond the initial photograph’s edges.

Based in Palm Springs, the artist shares glimpses into her process on Instagram, and if you’re in Philadelphia, check out her embroidered pieces that are on view through August 22 at Paradigm Gallery. Cao also sells some of her mixed-media works in her shop.

Left: “Golden Conjurer.” Right: “Wallflower-Yellow Pansy”

“Mt Rainier”

“Runaway train”

“Generations”

Left: “A steady dissolution.” Right: “Sisters”

“Plume”

“Sister, sister”

#BIRDS #EMBROIDERY #FOUND PHOTOGRAPHS #HAN CAO #LANDSCAPES #TRAINS

COLOSSAL

#Han Cao #artists photographie #original photographer #art #original art #photographer #photo color #COLOSSAL #Grace Ebert #BIRDS #EMBROIDERY #LANSCAPES #FOUND PHOTOGRAPHS #TRAINS #fotos art #art ghutry #xpuigc

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midnightlitterateur · 1 year ago

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Indecent Proposal

Pairing - Gortash/oc m/f

Warnings - Choking, light bdsm, restraints, smut, rough sex.

Summary - Enver Gortash makes Leah an offer she cannot refuse.

Leah Keene stood her ground. If these goons wanted to get her into Gortashs carriage after she had so very loudly refused then someone was going to be limping home tonight and it was not going to be her. A swift kick in the balls for one and an elbow to the ribs for the other and she was away, running across the square towards the warren of back alleys. They attempted to hobble after her but they were hopelessly outmatched. She handily shrugged off their attempts to grab her, and failed to spot a motionless figure in the shadows that she was headed for and as she passed by the mysterious stranger a thick canvas sack was pulled swiftly over her head and upper body. Shrieking loudly she tried to wrestle her way out but strong arms held her arms down tightly and lifted her off of the rain soaked cobbles of The Wide and carried her back to the cab where she was bundled unceremoniously into the back seat. “Just you behave yourself you little bitch,” she was warned by a gruff voice as she tried to wriggle free, “he only wants a chat.” Leah seethed all the way to Councillor Gortashs fine upper city pad, listening to the clopping hooves of the twin horses that drew the carriage as she planned her revenge on the pricks that had bagged her. “Laugh It up, chuckle brothers,” she thought to herself as she listened to them poke fun,”you’ll get yours.”

The spring rain had begun to fall heavily again as she stepped out of the cab, thankfully she had been allowed to remove the stinking sack that they had used - their second mistake. Their first mistake was not searching her thoroughly for concealed weapons. She let them escort her into the large house and lead her through a veritable rabbit warren of corridors, stairs and rooms. They ended up in a richly appointed drawing room where she was told to wait. As they turned to leave - their third and final mistake, Leah released the stiletto daggers from her bracers with a flick of her wrists and using a rather plush armchair to gain some height she leapt at them, plunging them into their spines with all the righteous fury of the inconveniently slighted. They dropped like two sacks of spuds. She wiggled her daggers free from their twitching flesh and wiped them off as she headed to the window in search of a quick escape but it was apparently too late.

Enver Gortash swept into the room completely ignoring the cooling bodies that were ruining his carpet and set about pouring himself a drink, “Would you like one?” he inquired cordially as if she had not just murdered two of his associates in cold blood. He looked like he had just come from his workshop - the prolific inventor that he was. His white shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows and traces of oil marked his hands and stubbly face. “Gods the man needed a wash,” she thought, a flush rising to her face as her gaze lingered on his surprisingly compelling forearms “Too busy running his empire to look after himself” Leah supposed.

“A drink? I just killed this sweaty pair of bollocks and you’re offering me a drink? Why am I here Gortash?” She sheathed her dagger’s and stepped towards him palms out, he was safe - for now. Councillor Gortash was a strange one. Guild intelligence was, he had his fingers in everyone else’s pies and was greedy for more. Seemingly not content with that he had made a move into politics but then he fit right in with that shower. Connivers and dissemblers the lot of them.

Gortash and Leah moved in very different circles but just occasionally those circles would overlap. Only recently they had met by chance in an art gallery. Leah had of course been casing the place. A still life had caught her eye and as she had been so captivated by the subject and the muted colours of the oils that she didn’t realise she had acquired a fellow admirer. Gortash had been quite charming and personable as of course he had been on the previous occasions that they had met. Still though, she didn’t like him enough to have been black bagged by his minions and let him get away with it.

“I did warn them to mind their manners but as they say - you can teach the ignorant but you cannot fix stupid. Hello Leah.” He handed her a glass of red wine with a smile and invited her to sit. “Of course you’re wondering why I invited you here. It is all rather cloak and dagger isn’t it?” Out of sheer politeness he allowed his guest to take her seat before settling in the armchair opposite.

“Well, yes. Of course I'm curious,” Leah replied, crossing her legs, noting his eyes lingered on her leather clad thigh “If it was Guild business I doubt you would have bundled me into a carriage in the middle of the night, curiosity is the only reason I'm not walking away from your corpse with wet blades.” She took a breath and a sip of the fine red she had been served, letting that statement sink in. “You want something done off the books don’t you, Enver?”

Gortash held out his arms wide, “You have me!” He laughed, “ But I very much doubt you can divine the topic of our conversation.”

“No. Because I'm not a mind reader, mate.” She sat back in her chair, levelling her gaze at the strangely charming man in front of her. Her face carefully blank as she waited for the negotiations to begin.

“I want to have your mother assassinated and install you as the new Underduke.” He stated it plainly as if it were nothing. Like declaring atrocities was completely normal practice. His eyes narrowed behind steepled fingers as he waited for her reaction.

“I’m sorry, what?” She placed her glass down on the side table carefully. “What the fuck - did you just say?” He knew she had weapons - he’d seen them. What was he playing at?

“I have big plans for Baldur’s Gate. Huge. And I need someone I can rely on at the helm of the Thieves Guild. I think that someone, is you” he sounded perfectly reasonable as if his proposal was a completely sane thing to say to someone who could kill him without any hesitation.

Leah's mind was in full on flight mode. Working out her exit strategy as she stalled for time.“You can’t just come out and say something like that!” Her mind raced with a hundred possibilities but the most likely outcome was that this was a test. That there was no way that he would say something like that if he were unprotected and quite possibly her reaction would determine if she made it out of this room alive. “Why do you think I'd let you kill my mother?” She asked as she decided her strategy, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Several reasons actually. Chiefly - this: She forced that masked bean counter Uktar to break your poor little heart. Made him choose. Between you his “love” and his position in the Guild. Didn’t even have to threaten to break his legs. She showed you his true colours and you hate her for it. So why continue to do her bidding? Take away the only thing she truly cares about, the Guild.

“How do you know about that?” She snapped, beyond irritated that he had brought it up. It was still a very sore point. If he was trying to get her on side this was not the way. What had happened that night in the Guild Hall would stay with her forever. The anger and betrayal was bitterly burned into every fibre of her being. The night she learned a very valuable lesson - trust no one. Not even blood. Her cheeks smouldered with shame even now.

“Well it was quite public - and very cruel. Actually I’m a little impressed. Your mother could give lessons on humiliation but then again couldn’t they all?” He paused, taking a sip of his drink. A moue of distaste passing over his features.

“You have a crap mum too, Gortash?” Leah smiled wryly but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know- shut up. “Sorry,” Leah apologised, “ I shouldn’t pry.” And she meant it but It seemed she had found a very sore point indeed.

Gortash waved it away and continued on “Aren’t you tired of taking orders? You are wasted on them, Leah - wasted!” He gestured to the dead bodies on the floor, “Look at that. Two men. Twice your size. Dead! And they have you picking pockets and stealing paintings? It’s a crime in itself.” He sighed and leaned toward her, addressing her in earnest , “You are incredibly talented Leah and I think - no, I know, that you could do so much better.”

“Really? You think that much of me do you? You don’t even know me.” Leah stood and walked over to the wine to refill her glass and to take a surreptitious glance around the room. She couldn’t see anyone but of course that did not mean that they were alone. There was a curtained alcove which was sizable enough to conceal three - four at a stretch, then there was the corridor outside the room to think about. Her only point of egress was the window but she did not fancy taking her chances jumping from the second floor, her ankles would never forgive her. Then there was the suspiciously odd machinery on the walls at measured intervals - not to be taken lightly in an inventor's house. Fuck.

“I know enough.” He stated simply. “I see you, Leah. I see your worth, your potential.” He left his seat and approached, holding out his hand “I need you.” His voice held more meaning than he meant to convey and she noticed. There was a heavy silence that hung in the air that bordered on the uncomfortable and he feared he may have overplayed this hand. He really didn’t want to activate his wall mounted turrets, not against her. What a waste of talent that would be.

“Oh! You bought it?” Leah exclaimed, her gaze was trained on the wall behind him. She swerved both Gortash and the awkwardness and went to look at the painting that they had enjoyed together at the gallery. The Still life. A skull resting on a book, flowers in the background and an hourglass in the fore. She had planned to come back for it that night but Nine Fingers had other ideas and by the time she did come back it had already been sold. “I'd wondered where that ended up.” She said with a sly smile.

“Yes. The charming study of life and death and everything in between. I couldn’t bring myself to leave it behind.” He recovered quickly and decided to waste no more time. “Well? What do you think of my proposal?”

Leah rolled her eyes and turned to look at him “Can we not just talk about art. We both like that.” She smiled disarmingly and fluttered her eyelashes subtly hoping to distract him.

“Business first, Leah - then pleasure.” His smile, did not make it to his eyes. A sure sign that he was running out of patience.

Leah groaned and played ball. “Like a dog with a bone,” she smiled, “Fine.“If - and only IF, mind you. I don’t want her dead. Not right away.” There was no way she was leaving this room alive if she refused. No guarantee if she agreed either but she knew the bastard fancied her. The few times that they had met he had made it more than obvious. Even now whilst asking for her permission to commit murder he undressed her with his eyes. “That bitch needs to know she's beaten.”

“I'm sure if we put our heads together we can come up with something that will benefit us both.” His demeanour softened a little and the air in the room felt lighter. He was satisfied for now but for how long? Her mind was made up. Seduction it was then.

So she would mirror his movements, hold his eye contact. Flirt a little. Giggle girlishly at his jokes. Anything to get out of this house alive. If there was one thing men like him were willing to believe it was what they wished to be true. “I believe you promised that there would be pleasure?” She said with a hooded coquettish gaze. An eye - chest - eye bounce. It was like lighting a fuse.

“Oh, of course. What kind of host would I be if I left you wanting?” He replied intimately. He held out his arm for her to take and he led her out through the curtain into a wide room full of fine sculptures and notable paintings. They spoke for what seemed an age about his collection and despite the unfortunate circumstances of the evening she was having quite a nice time. There wasn’t much scope for artistic discourse in the Guild unless it was discussing a valuable piece that was in line to get pinched. Leah by this time had been knocking back glass after glass as had Enver and they were both a little bit tipsy.

“Tell me about this one,” she slurred, draining her glass as she listened to his wonderfully cultured voice talking about the portrait of a sleeping woman with a demon perched upon her chest. Perhaps it was the wine but Gortash was becoming more attractive by the glass. Or perhaps it was that she was actually enjoying his company.

“You are putting quite the dent in my wine cellar, young lady,” he remarked as she emptied the dregs of an expensive red into her glass.

Leah scoffed with an unladylike snort “You invited me,” he should really have expected it. If there was anything she was well known for it was drinking to excess and bedding plenty of cock - the latter had a tendency to be exaggerated. She could count the number of men she had had on one hand and still have fingers left over…well, a thumb.

He chuckled and came over to help her open the next bottle that her little hands were struggling with. “I did indeed,” he said as he took it from her and removed the cork with ease, smiling as he caught her looking appreciatively at his flexing arm muscles.

Leah closed a little of the distance between them, “Regretting it?” She goaded, cheekily as she tilted her head, inviting him in.

Gortash raised an eyebrow and gave her a smirk, closing a bit of distance of his own “Not yet,” he made his move and leant in to steal a kiss, “but give it time.”

Leah made sure to moan quietly as their lips met, placing her hand on his stubbly cheek as she pressed her closed lips to his. She made to pull back having given herself the perfect chance to leave but a deceptively strong arm around her waist kept her where she was as Gortash deepened the kiss. It wasn’t bad as kisses go. Quite nice actually. Not too much spit, perfect amount of tongue…soft pillowy lips. Her arms made their way around his neck and she pressed her body against his, surprisingly firm torso. Things began to happen in both of their trousers and no one was more shocked than Leah Keene.

Leah's cheek pressed into the polished gloss of the solid wooden desktop. Gasping as Enver Gortash roughly pulled down her leathers, revealing her bare skin. She felt his hands caressing her, parting her. Breathing heavily as he stared at his prize. His thumb brushed over her tight little arsehole with reverence, down past her wet, waiting core and rubbed her swollen clit until she began to mewl and shiver. She groaned with disappointment when he stopped and received a hearty chuckle in response.

“Patience, darling.” He cautioned, smugly. “All good things come to those who wait.”Gortash folded her arms behind her back and held her wrists together tightly. The thrill of seeing her like this was almost enough to end him right there. To empty himself in his trousers like an excitable young boy. He took a deep breath, centering himself. Controlling himself.

He slowly entered her with a long drawn out moan, savouring her tight heat and her sweet whimpers. “My darling, you are exquisite.” He breathed, tightening his grip on her small wrists. He was a lot to handle especially for her as she was only a little thing, for now he would be gentle. He let her become accustomed to his girth before he moved and when he did he made long slow thrusts, so, so careful not to push too far. Now he finally had her he was going to take his damn time.

Leah was wide eyed, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her mind and body - somewhere between pleasure and pain. God’s he was thick, stretching her close to splitting. “Good girl,” he soothed, “Yes…I know that hurts, you’re doing so very well.” Leah sobbed out a groan in response. Soon his thrusts became smoother and more comfortable as her shallow pussy adjusted to his cock. He picked up the pace when she began to moan, steadily building steam until he was fucking her mercilessly.

Leah's eyes rolled and her mouth hung open, a small puddle of drool gathering on the desk beneath her cheek as she took a vicious pounding.

An aching storm gathered between her legs as Gortash savagely rearranged her insides. Her mind had melted, all thought dissolved giving way to her baser desires. All she wanted was his cock and at this point she would give anything to be able to come on it. To soak his balls with her juices as her fuck hole contracted around his thick shaft. To feel her clit exploding into a million glittering embers as she screamed his fucking name. “Gortash you God's damned bastard!” She sobbed and screeched unintelligible profanities like a woman possessed the closer she came to reaching her peak.

Leah felt his weight shift when her moans intensified. Her wrists were trapped between them as his thick body covered hers pressing her leather wrapped breasts into the desk beneath. His hand snaked beneath her to grip her throat as he continued to fuck her relentlessly, loud wet slaps and filthy moans echoed throughout the halls of his house scandalizing the hired help. He squeezed hard enough for her to struggle for breath, her face reddening with effort, her eyes bulging and bloodshot. Still he fucked her, pummelling her soaking wet cunt relentlessly. Her moans were guttural and strained “You will not come until I tell you to. Is that understood?” He ordered, his hot mouth on her ear as he pulled back on her neck.

“Mmhhmmm” was all she could manage. His fingers dug into her throat leaving her clawing for breath. Her vision began to narrow, still he slammed into her pussy. Suddenly she was released. Just on the brink of passing out. She sucked in breath after breath. Coughing and spluttering. His large hands held the edge of the desk in a death grip. It rocked and creaked beneath them, the feet scratching up the hardwood floor as it screeched loudly against it. Panting with exertion and pleasure he ploughed her with utter abandon and finally she felt his hot, wine scented breath on her ear.

“Come for me,” he whispered and that's all it took. The dam broke and Leah's body reacted. She came - hard. Wave after aching wave radiated from her clit. Surging through her body making her grunt and groan animalistically. Her come soaked the front of his trousers and splashed upon the floor as she squirted with every intense pulse of her orgasm. Gortash soon followed her, unable to hold himself back from the precipice as her cunt massaged his throbbing cock past the point of no return. He came inside her. Filling her to overflowing with his hot sticky seed, letting her finish before he stopped thrusting. Satisfied and exhausted they slumped together over the desk as they recovered from their savage exertions.

Gortash rose, pushing back the damp hair from his forehead and leaned on the desk for support as he waited for his composure to return. He watched her motionless body in breathless silence as he tidied himself up. What a mess he had made of her. Her tight little cunt drooled their mixed fluids. It dripped to the floor, landing in a puddle of her own precious juices. This was a most welcome turn of events.

One he had not dared anticipate. The only penetration he had expected tonight was an attempted dagger in his ribs but if there was one thing he knew about Leah it was that she was incredibly unpredictable and fortunately for him, tonight it had worked in his favour. Perhaps there was hope for their relationship to flourish after all. Professional and otherwise

Leah stayed face down on the desk, her tired body refusing to move as she struggled with shaggers remorse. What had she done? Only gone and let Enver fucking Gortash destroy her with his monster dong, thats what. “Oh Leah,” she chided herself, silently “what have you done?” Still, when the weight of his body rose from hers a pang of disappointment pricked in her chest. When she stood she was stiff and sore. She pulled up her pants and buckled up her belt. Careful to keep a satisfied smile painted on her face. Relaxed and happy. Appearing in no rush to leave. She walked around the desk casually and picked up her wine glass from the side table, draining it dry and pouring herself another. “Well,” she smiled, “I did not expect that when I accepted your invitation, Councillor,” she kept up the eye contact as she walked towards him - painfully uncomfortable as it was. “I’ll have to think about your offer, it’s a big decision. She is still my mother, after all.” It was almost over. All she had to do now was make it out of the door. Easier said than done.

“Straight back to business,” he said, obviously impressed, “this is why I need you, Leah. Together we can bring Baldur’s Gate to heel. I need you on my side. At my side.” He stepped closer, closing the gap between them. “Join me.”

Leah smiled and placed her hands on his chest, gazing into his blue eyes, “I'll get back to you. Before next tensday you will have my decision.” Gortashs lips parted as he leaned in for a kiss, claiming hers in a passionate embrace. His eyes opened suddenly and he stared into a shadowy alcove, a figure waited patiently in the darkness. The gloom only just camouflaged them. How long had they been there?

“Take my carriage,” he said, as he broke the kiss without warning and held her at arms length. “I have something important that needs my urgent attention.” Damn it all but the Bhaalspawn was early! He had wanted to savour this moment, perhaps use it to his advantage seeing as Leah had enjoyed it so much. Blast!

Leah held his gaze in silence, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise. There was someone behind her. Someone he did not want her to meet. “Good night, then,” she conceded, pointedly giving a little sideways glance in the direction of the interloper.

Gortash tilted his head and smiled indulgently. He took her small hand in his and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles “Good night.” He watched her intently as she walked away, her hips swaying hypnotically. “Leah!” He called out just before she disappeared out of sight. He waited for her to turn before he spoke again. “You may have until midnight tomorrow. Do not disappoint me.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #smut #my writing #gortash #lord gortash #enver gortash

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film-classics · 8 months ago

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Janet Gaynor - The First Oscar Winner

Janet Gaynor (born Laura Augusta Gainor in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on October 6, 1906) was an American actress whose image was that of a sweet, wholesome and pretty young woman. She was notable for playing her roles with depth and sensitivity. She is "The First Oscar Winner" of the Best Actress award. Gaynor was not only the first actress to win the award, but at 22, was the youngest until 1986, when actress Marlee Matlin, 21, won for her role in Children of a Lesser God.

As a child, she began acting in school plays. Her family moved to Los Angeles, where her parents wanted her to pursue an acting career. She was initially hesitant and enrolled at Hollywood Secretarial School. Her parents continued to encourage her, so she began making the rounds to the studios to find film work. Her first professional acting job was as an extra in a Hal Roach comedy short in 1924, which led to more work in feature films and shorts.

Fox eventually signed Gaynor to a five-year contract and began to cast her in leading roles. By 1927, she was one of Hollywood's leading ladies. In fact, during the early 1930s, she was one of Hollywood's biggest box-office draws. She continued to garner top billing for roles in State Fair (1933) and A Star Is Born (1937). Despite being at the top of the industry, she retired from acting at age 33. However, she did return to acting from time to time with guest appearances on TV and films.

Aside from acting, Gaynor also became an accomplished oil painter of vegetable and flower still lifes. She sold over 200 paintings and had four showings under the Wally Findlay Galleries banner in New York, Chicago, and Palm Beach from 1975 to February 1982.

Gaynor had been in failing health and required frequent hospitalizations since a 1982 traffic accident critically injured her. At 77 years of age, two years after the car accident, she passed away in Palm Springs, California, her injuries being officially ruled to have caused her death

Legacy:

Was the first recipient of the Academy Award for Best Actress in 1929 for her performances in three films: 7th Heaven (1927), Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) and Street Angel (1928), the only occasion an actress won one Oscar for multiple film roles; and nominated for another for A Star Is Born (1937)

Named as one of the WAMPAS Baby Stars in 1926

Listed by the Motion Picture Herald as one of America’s top-10 box office draws from 1930 to 1934

Awarded the Order of the Southern Cross for her cultural contributions to Brazil in 1979

Given a tribute by the American Cinema Awards for her outstanding contribution to the Arts 1983

Honored by the San Diego Festival of the Arts in 1984 for her contributions to the movies at the Spreckels Theatre

Was the subject of "Janet Gaynor: A Centennial Celebration" exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art and Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive in 2006

Inducted in the Online Film and Television Association Film Hall of Fame in 2012

Has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6284 Hollywood Blvd for motion picture

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jellogram · 1 year ago

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So Palm Springs has a big gay culture especially with older gay men and I was in this nice art gallery chatting with the old queens there and I told them the little rundown hippie town I'm living in that has no stores or restaurants and they looked at me like

When I walked away they were like "Good luck out there"

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longlistshort · 1 year ago

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Mirror House, 2016 by artist Paige Jiyoung Moon was one of the paintings in her 2019 exhibition, Days of Our Lives at Steve Turner in Los Angeles. Her works are all of scenes from her life, painted from memory.

She is currently part of Hammer Museum’s most recent biennial, Made in L.A. 2023: Acts of Living, its sixth iteration, on view until 12/31/23.

The house in the painting, Mirage, was created by Doug Aitken for Desert X in 2017. On the fictional television series, The Curse, created by Nathan Fielder and Benny Safdie, the main characters are building houses with similar look.

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acrylicalchemy · 8 months ago

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I absolutely love the galleries that I work with, and I'm looking for new ones in new cities so I can bring my art closer to you. You can currently see my work at Adelman Fine Art and Sparks Gallery 🥰

If there is a gallery you know that you would like to see me in, please feel free to drop my name or let them know about me.

#art #artists on tumblr #michael carini #painting #artist #carini arts #abstract #contemporary art #acrylic alchemy #carini #art gallery #gallery art #gallery artist #art galleries #la art #laguna art #la jolla art #Palm Springs art

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megustanestascosas · 1 year ago

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#art #artist #art gallery #photography #photographer #cinematography #cinematographer #Palm Springs

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cleverhottubmiracle · 22 days ago

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As the new year begins, celebrities are wasting no time making bold fashion statements with outfits that hit hard. From red carpets to brunches and even Instagram posts, 2025 is already proving to be a year of daring offerings and fearless style. These trendsetters are showing us how to sizzle with unique looks, and honestly, we’re loving it! The first week of the year has already delivered stunning ensembles, creative accessories, and some unforgettable vibes. This week’s standout moments came from A-listers delivering everything from pastel elegance to edgy sophistication. Whether you’re heading to brunch with friends, a press event, or a glamorous award ceremony, there’s plenty of style inspiration to be found in their bold outfits. Let’s dive into these fabulous looks and show you how to recreate them from your own wardrobe this weekend, all while staying true to the occasion. Here are the 10 bold celebrity outfits to inspire your wardrobe this weekend… #1. Selena Gomez: Cherry Blossom Chic Photo: @erinwalshstyle/Instagram Selena Gomez turned heads at the Palm Springs Film Festival Day 2 Variety Brunch in a blush pink Oscar de la Renta tweed mini dress, adorned with cherry blossom embroidered pockets. She paired this chic look with Santoni pink patent leather sling-back heels featuring a sculpted block heel and oversized buckle details, finishing the outfit with sparkling Swarovski accessories. To recreate this look, dig into your wardrobe for a pastel-colored mini dress or tweed ensemble. Pair it with pink or nude sling-back heels, and add floral accessories for a hint of whimsy. It’s perfect for a spring wedding or baby shower. Shop Santoni slingback heels #2. Jennifer Lopez: Lilac Dreams Photo: @justjared/Instagram Jennifer Lopez brought an ethereal energy to the Palm Springs International Film Fest Awards in a lilac high-neck mini dress with a sheer overlay. She paired the look with clear Gianvito Rossi heels, a black and gold clutch, and jeweled Mateo earrings. To channel this look, style a flowy pastel dress with a sheer layer or cape for that ethereal vibe. Pair it with transparent or metallic heels and statement earrings to add some sparkle. This look is ideal for a cocktail party. #3. Zoe Saldana: Floral Sophistication Photo: Getty Images Zoe Saldana graced the Palm Springs Variety Creative Impact Awards in a striking Marni dress, featuring bold red floral details against a black backdrop. She paired the elegant look with sleek black pointed heels and minimal jewelry, allowing the dress to take center stage. To recreate this look, search your wardrobe for a black dress with bold floral prints or accents. Pair it with classic black pumps and understated jewelry to keep the focus on the outfit. It’s perfect for an anniversary dinner or a sophisticated cocktail event. #4. Keke Palmer: Vivienne Westwood Queen Photo: Getty Images Keke Palmer didn’t just attend the press for her new movie One of Them Days—she owned it. Her Vivienne Westwood Romeo corset, with floral jacquard detailing, was paired perfectly with crushed corduroy Inferno Trousers by Andreas Kronthaler for Vivienne Westwood. She elevated the look with white Amina Muaddi heels and an Alaïa faux fur coat. To recreate this bold outfit, find a statement corset or fitted top and pair it with high-waisted trousers in a luxe fabric like velvet or corduroy. Add a touch of fur for an extra layer of polish. This look is perfect for visiting an art gallery where you want to make a lasting impression. #5. Chloe Bailey: Retro Power Photo: @chloebailey/Instagram Chloe Bailey turned the streets into her runway in a beige RETROFÊTE leather coat, a matching mini skirt, and a beige turtleneck top, paired with white knee-high boots and a matching handbag. To recreate this look, opt for a leather coat and mini skirt combo, and pair it with standout boots that are edgy yet versatile. This outfit is perfect for winter outings or fashion shows with friends, offering the right balance of cool and chic. Shop editor’s choice #6. Kate Winslet: Sophisticated Florals Photo: Getty Images Kate Winslet radiated class at the 2025 Golden Globes in a custom ERDEM cream silk-wool suit, adorned with jet-black floral embroidery. To recreate, pair a tailored cream blazer with matching trousers or a pencil skirt. Add floral accessories to capture her elegant touch. This ensemble is perfect for work events or formal gatherings, offering a sophisticated and polished vibe. #7. Coco Jones: Birthday Barbie Photo: @cocojones/Instagram Coco Jones celebrated her birthday in a hot pink The Attico Fran mini dress featuring wrap-around details. She paired it with PVC heels and minimal accessories. To recreate this look, style a bright pink or neon dress with simple heels and understated jewelry that screams “celebration.” This look is perfect for birthday parties or celebratory nights out, ensuring you shine without overdoing it. #8. Tracee Ellis Ross: Edgy Elegance Photo: Getty Images Tracee Ellis Ross gave us avant-garde perfection at the WWD Style Awards in an Alaïa black turtleneck bodysuit with grommet eyelet embellishments, a fringe leather belt, and a white Alaïa Le Teckle bag. Her Saint Laurent PVC slingbacks completed the daring look. To recreate this, pair a fitted black turtleneck with leather pants or a sleek skirt. Add fringe or studded accessories to give the outfit an edgy twist. This look is perfect for a night out at a high-fashion event where you want to make a statement. Shop editor’s finds #9. Jeannie Mai: Golden Globes Glam Photo: Getty Images At the Golden Globes WWD Style Awards, Jeannie Mai stunned in a Rick Owens Black Athena leather maxi dress with a daring side slit, paired with PVC heels and statement jewelry. To recreate this look, opt for a sleek black maxi dress with unique details like slits or asymmetry. Pair it with metallic heels to add a touch of glamour. This outfit is perfect for formal dinners or awards ceremonies where you want to shine with understated elegance. #10. Draya Michele: Cozy Chic Photo: @drayamichele/Instagram Draya Michele blessed our Instagram feeds in a Jean Paul Gaultier off-white turtleneck sweater paired with high-waisted denim bottoms featuring button accents and a playful MSCHF telephone handbag. To recreate this look, choose a cozy yet statement-making sweater with unique patterns or detailing. Pair it with high-waisted jeans and a quirky handbag for an added fun touch. This outfit is perfect for a casual brunch or a shopping day, offering comfort without compromising on style. 2025 is proving to be the year of bold outfits and creative inspirations. Whether it’s pastel elegance, edgy leather, or cozy knits, these stars have given us the ultimate style guide. From sophisticated glamour to playful details, each look offers something unique. Which one will you recreate first? For the latest in fashion, lifestyle, and culture, follow us on Instagram @StyleRave_ —Read also !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script', ' fbq('init', '496558104568102'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script',' fbq('init', '1453079628754066'); fbq('track', "PageView"); Source link

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norajworld · 22 days ago

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ellajme0 · 22 days ago

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chilimili212 · 22 days ago

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oliviajoyice21 · 22 days ago

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