#Paul Browning Photography

[dopescissorscashwagon]

The European Grey Wolf 🐺 Finland

📸 by Paul Browning Photography

[hai-yaaah]

Michael, L. (Photographer). (2024). Golden Globe nominees [Photograph series]. Vulture.

[jarofalicesgrunge]

Pantera concert circa 1990 - 1991

📸by Dede Lehew

[lonesomedreamereccentriclover]

Happy Birthday Colin Farrell!

[tativiolet]

Recent Collections I Love

[mossmosss]

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 19

Linda looks so good in this sort of not-quite-right preppy style. I think it fits who she was as a person in this time so well, and that’s one of the things I love about Linda is that she just dresses up as herself. You know? Like she wears things that are true to her and she doesn’t care if that means a mini-skirt in January or hairy pits on stage. And that confidence and introspection and happiness is so, so attractive.

And that is why they love him. (you know, besides the fact that he’s a piano prodigy or whatever) So secure. BDE off the charts.

Linda talking photography with whoever that other photographer guy is.

George: what could it be, Paul? John: jumps to answer for Paul like it's 1964 and they're at a press conference.

What do we think? John cut himself shaving? Or is it a hickey?

It ends up that John’s meeting must’ve fallen through at 1:30, so Paul is the only one gone. And it seems to me that John purposely plans this time when Paul’s gone to talk to George and Ringo about Klein. George: er, what did you want to talk about? John: er, well, just that I saw Klein, you know. . . . but I want to tell you all at once, you know, so it’s not . . . Sure, John. Cut to 1971 John talking about “doing a job” and “maneuvering” to get those two on the Klein boat. smh. sad. 

But, really, for a guy who admits to having been a manipulator since primary school, he’s so easily manipulated. John. A man who you just met cannot know you as well as a man you’ve known since you were seventeen. No matter how he flattered you, it’s just not possible. The way he said it with such conviction, too! He sincerely believes this bullshit.  

“Old Brown Shoe” is not my favorite lol but I’m so happy for George. To me, it sounds like it’s about leaving old roles, old patterns, old relationships, the beatles, behind in favor of something more exciting and fun. Good for him. 

I know this is a “yeah, duh” comment, but Billy is such a gifted musician. Instantly catching on to the stylophone, jumping on guitar the minute George is on piano. So impressive.

Ugh, the tone of voice John takes with George. They’re all messing around, as they constantly do, including George, when John decides it’s time to focus. He says, “George, come on,” in literally the most condescending voice. As if George has been the only one derailing everything out of his own immaturity and John’s finally losing his patience. I can’t. He’s not fourteen, anymore, John. 

One more quick Linda appreciation because she's so cool and so pretty and I love her so much.

I wonder if they actually did have a “tune up” as George Martin put it, after teasing him that they wouldn’t. It just cuts off from John being like “remember Bob Wooler” to them doing a take of “Don’t Let Me Down.”  

John singing “I need you” at Paul (who is very passionately shaking that maraca). Not I want you. I need you. And making These Faces as he plays the guitar. Like, to be clear, those are not singing faces. He's not singing while he's doing that. He's just doing that. He looks so horny and in so much pain. Bro. How do you do that with God and everyone watching? 

At which point, Paul decides he needs to get completely out-of-it stoned, and the most unwatchable one minute and seven seconds in all of Get Back occurs. “Grease Paint” my beloathed.

Oh, okay, George just constantly cleans his guitars. I think I remember reading an old beatlemania era article that said while John and Paul treat their guitars as tools, George loves and cares for his. 

And then we pan out as John says, “Allen Klein’s here,” and sings, “I want you so bad” in the same breath. What are our thoughts? Does John sincerely think he’s helping everyone by getting Klein? Or is it more selfish?  

[cosmic-ships]

Flower shop.

Kaden was arranging a bouquet of sunflowers when they heard the chime of the door. They glanced up through the curtain of their bangs and saw a man standing in the entrance, looking around with a mixture of curiosity and nostalgia.

Kaden’s fingers itched for their camera, a small vintage model they always kept close. With a practiced flick, they brought the camera to their eye and snapped a quick photo.

The click of the shutter broke the quiet, and the man turned towards the sound, glancing between Kadenand the camera in their hand. After a moment of silence he spoke. “Do you always take photos of your customers?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Kaden laughed softly, setting the camera down on the counter. “Not usually,” they admitted. “I’m just not used to seeing guys actually look around the shop. Most men who come in here are in a rush to buy their partners flowers because they forgot an anniversary or a birthday..or mothers day..or any special occasion... It’s less about wanting to be here and more about saving their skins. You seemed different, so I thought I’d commemorate this new experience.”

The man smiled, and Kaden noticed how it reached his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Well, I hope the photo turned out well then. This place used to be a stationary shop, you know. I wondered what it had become, so I stopped in out of curiosity.”

Kaden’s eyes lit up. “I didn’t know that! I took over the place about a little while ago. I’m Kaden, by the way.” They extended a hand, and the man took it, his grip warm and firm.

“Paul,” he replied. “Nice to meet you, Kaden. So, you’re a florist and a photographer?”

“Yeah,” Kaden nodded. “The photography’s more of a hobby, but I love capturing moments, especially unexpected ones.”

Paul looked around the shop, taking in the vibrant array of flowers. “It’s a beautiful place. Very inviting.”

“Thank you,” Kaden said, their cheeks warming slightly. “I try to make it feel like a little oasis. Flowers have a way of brightening up any space, don’t you think?”

Paul nodded, his gaze settling on the sunflowers Kaden had been arranging. “Sunflowers are nice,” he said. “There’s something so cheerful about them.”

Kaden smiled. “indeed they are. They’re like little drops of sunshine. Do you want to take some home? I can make a bouquet for you.”

Paul hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “That sounds great. Thank you.”

Kaden set to work, carefully selecting the brightest, most perfect sunflowers. “So, what brings you to this part of town?” they asked as they worked. “Just nostalgia, or is there another reason?”

“A bit of both,” Paul said. “I’ve been doing some traveling for work and ended up with some free time. Thought I’d revisit some old haunts. This place was a big part of my childhood.”

“Really?” Kaden said, glancing up. “That’s so nice. I hope the changes are a good surprise and not a bad one.”

Paul smiled again. “They're good, don't worry, I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Kaden finished the bouquet and wrapped it in brown paper, tying it with a piece of twine. “Here you go,” they said, handing it to Paul. “I hope they bring some sunshine to your day~”

Paul accepted the bouquet, his fingers brushing against Kaden’s. “Thank you, Kaden. They already have.”

Kaden felt a flutter in their chest and found themselves hoping that Paul would come back. “If you’re ever in the neighborhood again, feel free to stop by,” they smiled.

“I’d like that,” Paul said. “Maybe you could even teach me a thing or two.”

Kaden laughed. “I’d be happy to.”

Paul gave a small, almost shy smile. “I’ll definitely be back, Kaden. Thanks again for the sunflowers.”

“Anytime, Paul,” Kaden said, watching as he turned and walked towards the door. “Take care~”

As the door closed behind him, Kaden felt a warmth spread through their chest, brighter than the sunflowers they loved so much. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something great.

Tagging; @dragonsmooch || @mauls-waifu || @kylilah ||

@mahitosoulmate || @ama-ships || @heatobrienswife

[deepdreamnights]

Giddyup!

Just because yer dead doesn't mean you gotta be dreary, pardner!

The image(s) above in this post were made using an autogenerated prompt and/or have not been modified/iterated extensively. As such, they do not meet the minimum expression threshold, and are in the public domain. Prompt under the fold.

Prompt: acrylic 3d illustration by sir michael paul ryder, in the style of dark amber and emerald, fluid photography, unreal engine 5, loose and fluid, vray, kodak gold, master of ink:: fullbody original production cel, drag queen Bandit Heartless dressed as a enforcer , vintage cartoon animation cel (1986) by filmation and sunbow productions, , Brown, Green, White colorscheme , riding a monster , fire breath , henchman on white background , streamlined black line art with cel shaded vintage cartoon color, official media

[grape-jucie-dog]

Hey, I like you! -tells you about all of my personal Melissa headcanons-

I love Melissa with all my heart, she's my favorite background character ever. However (to me personally, don't come at me with the black dagger), I don't count "Hey Melissa!" canon in my personal universe. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a murderous woman with a blazer, but I don't like the idea of Melissa being a murderer in EVERY universe 😭 breaks my heart. SO. HERE ARE ALL OF MY MELISSA HEADCANONS!

Name: Melissa Riley-Faith

Pronouns: She/Her

Gender: Cisgender female

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Mental illness: Depression

Family: Shitty mom she doesn't talk to named Alison, and her cat Cassie

Height: 5'6

Age: 31

- Melissa loves doing photography, mostly of nature

- She's been best friends with Charlotte for 15 long years, because I refuse to think they aren't close friends

- She has a lot of candles. I can just see it-

- Melissa doesn't drive, so she walks to work with Charlotte. Even when she's not going to work, she mostly walks everywhere. She loves going for walks

- Passive Aggressive Mel my beloved

- As a little nod to "Hey Melissa!", She makes a lot of dark jokes, just has a dark sense of humor

- She isn't exactly a light weight, but don't give her too much to drink either unless you wanna deal with either a very emotional Melissa or a very energetic Melissa

- She has two different colored eyes, mostly because when I first saw her I couldn't tell if her eyes were green or brown. SO SHE HAS BOTH (you can see it in my artwork actually)

- 100% listens to Lady Gaga, prove me wrong I dare you

(TW for the next few HCs, talking about depression, abuse, and self harm)

- Melissa has self harm scars from her past, and she isn't afraid to show them off

- Her father died when she was 14, and because of this she was mentally abused by her mother. She moved out when she was almost 20 years old, and hasn't really spoken with her mom since

- Melissa tends to go through depressive episodes, having times where she can't even get out of bed. Charlotte has known about this for a long time, and is always looking out for her

- She used to be friends with Sam, but after seeing how he treats Charlotte, she despises him

- Call me crazy for this, but I can see her and Mr. Davidson having a father daughter relationship. It's the same with Bill and Mel, but it's more commonly seen with Mr. Davidson

- She used to have a crush on Paul (much like in canon), but when she learned that he loved Emma, she eventually lost feelings, and now they're all friends

- Melissa, Emma, Charlotte, Piper (OC), Alexa (OC),Harper (OC), and Sawyer (OC) are all a girl group because it's funny to me and my bestie

- She doesn't have a strong opinion on coffee, but she normally has a lot of milk in it

- While she isn't BIG on musicals, one of her favorites is RENT

- Melissa is pretty expressive, like if you tell her the most out of pocket shit you can tell she's shocked

- She loves talking to her cat, Cassie, as if she were an actual person. She does this with all of Charlotte's cats too (Charlotte has cats. If you disagree, fight me [I'm kidding please don't.])

- She has a lot of videos saved on her phone, and most of them is just chaos happening around the office

- While we don't see her on screen long enough to see how she got infected in TGWDLM, I do have an idea: She was originally going to escape with Charlotte, Bill, and Ted, but she was found by Mr. Davidson before she could get away

- Shocked I haven't mentioned this one, but she has an upsidedown heart shaped birthmark on her thigh

- Melissa is 100% ambidextrous, and I refuse to think otherwise

[dopescissorscashwagon]

Great workshop today 🦌📸

Today Paul was taking a private client who had travelled from the Middle East to see around Bushy Park, and photograph the deer..As well as the deer I found Green woodpeckers, Kestrels, Herons, Egrets and lots of small birds like Wrens and Stonechats. It was a lot of fun! He took some photos himself and here’s a few of his favourites. They're having a good time ☺️AlphaAutumnUK

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

[ Subject & Scientific name ] 🦌

Red Deer 🧬 Cervus Elaphus •••>> #funfact <<•••Red deer in Bushy Park, London, have a fascinating history connected to King Henry VIII. The park, once part of his hunting grounds, has been home to red and fallow deer since the 16th century. These majestic animals still roam freely today, descendants of the deer the king would have pursued. Henry VIII, famous for his love of hunting, often retreated to Bushy Park, using it as a royal playground. The sight of the deer in this historic setting connects modern visitors to the Tudor era and its royal past.

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[ Settings & Gear ]

📷 Sony α1🔭 400mm GM 🔅 F4 | 1/500 | iso1000

🖥️ Edited in @lightroom

📸 © Paul Browning photography

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[thinkingimages]

[Lace Glove] about 1843–1846 Hippolyte Bayard (French, 1801 - 1887)

Hippolyte Bayard, an early inventor of photography, did not limit himself to creating images using the three processes that he himself had devised. As new methods were announced, he frequently explored them. The cyanotype process was invented in 1842 by Sir John Herschel (1792-1871), the eminent British astronomer, mathematician, and chemist. The cyanotype is easily recognized by its distinctive Prussian blue background that is a result of the use of two iron salts: ferric ammonium citrate and potassium ferricyanide. Bayard made this cyanotype without the aid of a camera by laying the glove directly on top of a ordinary piece of writing paper that had been coated with the iron salts and then dried. He probably secured the paper and glove under a piece of glass before placing the package out in the sun for five to fifteen minutes. The exposed parts of the paper turned a stunning blue, while the parts covered by the lacey glove remained white. By washing the sheet of paper in water, the developing process was stopped and the image fixed (made permanent).

This cyanotype offers a number of clues to Bayard’s working process. Upon close examination of the uneven edges of the glove, it appears that Bayard cut the palm layer of lace off so that he could place just one thin layer of lace upon the sensitized sheet of paper. This allowed the light to more easily penetrate the small openings of the lace and better define the intricate design of the glove. In several areas in the fingers of the glove, the lace has folded under itself, creating a density that compromises the delicacy of the lace. These areas show how the whole composition might have turned out if the palm of the glove had been left attached as well. The vertical white line running down the left side may mark where the plate of glass laying atop the glove and paper ended. Finally, the brown staining along the bottom edge of the glove is most likely evidence of an accident that occurred after the image was made. Bayard may have inadvertently spilled some chemicals that he used in other photographic processes onto this cyanotype.

Carolyn Peter, J. Paul Getty Museum, Department of Photographs

View full record details

[modernmanblues]

chances

CH 5: CHEAP THRILLS

plot: American photographer Leah Walker is ecstatic when she's presented with the opportunity to spend the summer of 1975 in Stockport, UK to take photographs of local English groups. Given her history of taking photos of big acts such as The Rolling Stones and The Doors, she is taken by surprise when told that her first clients will be the up and coming Manchester-based group, 10cc, who have kept a low-profile until recently, after gaining worldwide stardom from their hit I'm Not In Love. Leah knows little about the group and gets acquainted fairly quickly, but what she doesn't know is how much trouble she's about to get herself into with the group's beloved lead guitarist, Eric Stewart. She has all summer, come to think of it. The possibilities are endless.

themes: Eric Stewart, distressed about a girl (oh boy), fluff fest!, girl talk, rockstar children, cheeky, playful, cross dressing, consumption of alcohol, cigarettes and cocaine, pain and agony associated with a close encounter with…death

a/n: In life, our actions can sometimes have consequences. Most times, these consequences do not cause any long-term damage but other times they can, unfortunately, be dire and cause serious ramifications.

“Oh, Kevin..this is too much for me..he doesn’t deserve this..he is too young..too young..”

“Could you give a background on your photography experience..er..Miss?”

“Leah?” Eric gazes at me with his wondrous brown doe eyes, smiling at me meekly.

I am still in a trance given that I am seated next to, dare I say, one of the most enigmatic people known to mankind.

“Are you alright, Leah?” Eric reels me into him gently as he hooks me with his arm, squeezing my shoulder ever so prudently.

“What?” I manage to bring myself back to the present and meeting Eric’s eyes, I peer into them. Something about his eyes, and the way he looks at me somehow exonerate me from all my worries and fears. I would even go as far as saying that they provide me what one would describe as, divine solace. 

“Paul’s asked you a question.” Eric smiles at me timidly.

“Oh. Right. Um..well first off, I am greatly honored to meet you, Sir Paul..or do you just go by Paul these days?” I feel a lump going down my throat. I do my best to act natural. But gosh, it’s not everyday you get to sit and have a friendly chat with Paul McCartney of The Beatles.

“Paul is fine, love.” he declares casually.

  “Alright, Paul.” I smile sheepishly as my eyes travel from Eric then back to Paul. I carry on providing a brief statement about my repertoire.   

“I graduated photography school in New York City. It was a four-year program. My parents weren’t too happy about it as they had wanted me to go into law school but, they were supportive of my decision and now here I am today doing..” I take a quick pause. I notice how Eric hasn’t peeled his gaze since I’ve begun talking. I smile at him briefly then turn my attention back to Paul, “..the one thing I am so passionate about.” 

The two sit quietly, seemingly eager to listen to my saga. I carry on.

“Anyway, I’ve been doing professional photography for about five years now. Mainly taking photos of local musicians and groups. However, I have worked with a handful of big names in my experience.” I spit out that last sentence with gentle pride as I briefly reminisce on that moment of my life. I smile at the thought.  

“Wow…” Eric murmurs, raising an eyebrow subtly.

“That’s wonderful, Leah. You know Linda, my wife, she does photography professionally as well. She’s taken a long hiatus from it, though. You know..ever since she started touring with me..our group, Wings.” He takes a puff from his cigarette, then blows a cloud of smoke away from our faces, “..then came the babies, of course.” He chuckles, leaning into Eric playfully.

“Geez Paul, it seems poor Linda’s been popping them out like nobody’s business!” Eric shakes his head jokingly, then resumes peering into my eyes. I find myself mimicking his rather dainty smile.

I let out a faint gasp as he brings his hand next to my face and sweeps a lock of my hair behind my ear. He leans into me and mutters, “we have unfinished business.”

He speaks cryptically. Understandably so, given our recent short stint with…a strawberry, the forbidden fruit. 

I notice the subtle, devious smirk on his face as he peels away from me, and it takes me a brief moment to mentally process his subliminal remark. I raise an eyebrow at him to silently acknowledge him. The mind games with him are becoming second nature to me. Muscle memory, so it seems.

“Well you know we’ve been thinking about having two more, Eric.” Paul asserts.

“Are you really? That sounds lovely.” Eric returns his attention to Paul, smiling at him boyishly.

“What about you, Eric? Do you plan on giving Dieta a brother or sister?”

Eric immediately darts his head towards me. “I don’t know. What do you think, Leah?”

My eyes widen in a deer-in-headlights sort of way. A lump forms in my throat. I tensely clear my windpipe. My face feels slightly flushed. Why the hell would he ask me this? I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

“Well that’s not up to me, Eric.” I mutter to him.

We are suddenly approached by a woman with strawberry blonde hair accompanied by a very young girl with jet black hair. Her eyes, with hues of dark blue and green, perfectly complement her gorgeous youthful face.

“Oh good you found him, you know we’ve been looking all over for you, silly!” the woman gives Paul a quick peck on the cheek, “Mary and I got you fried plantains, as a treat.”

“Here you go, daddy!” the young girl presents Paul with a brown paper bag.

“Oh sweetheart, bless you.” Paul plants a gentle kiss on the girl’s forehead and brushes her hair with ease.

“Eric..” the blonde woman walks over to Eric and embraces him, gently patting him on his back. 

“Lind..oh, I’ve missed you both dearly. How have you been?” Eric smiles meekly through his sentence, enclosing his arms around her.

“Well I should ask you that question! What have you been up to lately, champ?” the woman exclaims matter-of-factly.

They strip away from each other, exchanging delighted expressions.

“Oh you know, busy as usual.” Eric states nonchalantly. It is evident that he and this woman are close acquaintances.

I have to admire his modesty despite all, what I imagine, he has accomplished as a professional.

“I see that. All that hard work has finally paid off, hasn’t it Mr. Gold?” she nudges him playfully.” 

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without Graham, Lol and Kev.” Eric says humbly.

He shifts his head towards me, his charming doe eyes glinting against the interior lighting.

“Anyway Linda, I’d like you to meet Leah. A fellow photographer. She’s American as well.” He turns to me, his aura bright and exuberant. “Leah, meet my dear friend and Paul’s sweetheart, the great Linda McCartney.”

THE Linda McCartney?!  I’ll be damned, who else am I going to meet today, Diane Keaton?!

She scurries over towards me briskly and scoops me in her arms, taking me aback slightly.

“Oh thank heavens you exist! I thought I was never going meet a fellow Yank in these parts!” she exclaims with sheer enthusiasm, her mild southern drawl sneaking through.

 “Well, I’m here.” I shrug, smiling at her timidly. “Such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. McCartney. I am a huge fan of your work.”

I give her a gentle pat on the back.  We peel away from each other and carry on with introductions.

“Pleasure is mine. I love inspiring young, bright-eyed and bushy tailed photographers. Trust me, I’ve been where you are.”

“It’s not always easy, let me tell you.” I confess matter-of-factly.

“Well that’s with any job, sweetheart. But of course if you love what you do, the whole experience won’t even feel like a job to you.” The most comforting words that I wish my own mother would say to me.

“Alright. We’ll let you girls get acquainted. Eric, would you like to go for a stroll with Mary and I?” Paul hoists himself up from his seat. He seems adamant about giving Linda and I some girl time.

Eric glances at me then cranes his head back to Paul. He tenses his jaw.

“Sounds lovely, Paul. Let’s give these girls some time to themselves, hm?”

I take note of how Mary leans her head against Paul’s hip, biting her nails anxiously as she gazes at me. I smile at her timidly, and she immediately scurries behind her father. She pokes her head out a smidge and maintains her gaze on me. I wave at her daintily, which makes her grin bashfully. She nestles her face against Paul’s shirt and I am reminded of little Dieta. Speaking of which, I wonder how she and the guys are doing?

Eric gets up from his seat and standing in front of me, he closes the gap between us. He clasps my hand delicately, then brings it up to his face and plants a gentle kiss on my knuckle, a sweet gesture of his that I have grown accustomed to. He returns my hand.

“Don’t get lost please.” he utters playfully.

“And if I do, what are you going to do about it, hm?” I mirror his humor. I protrude my chin at him teasingly.

Our eyes stay fixed on each other. His faint smile complements his juvenile profile. “Well I wouldn’t have earned the nickname, Sherlock Holmes if I wasn’t so brilliant at finding things that have been lost. I’d wear that hat for the day, if that ever happened. You know, because it would concern, you.”  

“Aren’t you being a bit dramatic, Eric?”  chuckle, rolling my eyes at him jokingly.

“Why do you always roll your eyes at me?”

“Because you are always so dramatic!” I scoff.   

“Eric?” Paul calls out, raising an eyebrow.

“Right. Er...Lind? Look after her, please? She’s not from around here.” Eric sounds seemingly concerned.

“Eric, relax. She is in good hands with me.” Linda’s tone is reassuring.

Paul gently tugs Eric by the arm, breaking our hold.

“We’ll see you back at the studio!” Paul yells out, raking Eric into his arm while gently grasping Mary’s hand on his opposite side. “Come, Mary darling.”

“Where are we going, daddy?” the child gazes up at her father with wonder.

“You, me and your Uncle Eric are going to go for a walk now. Is that alright?”

Mary looks to her mother then back to Paul.

“Mummy’s not coming with us then, is she?” she furrows her brows.

“Mummy’s going to spend time with her friend now. We’ll see her a bit later, alright?” Paul’s tone is reassuring enough for the girl.

“Mmm, okay..” Mary smiles at him cheekily.

Eric shifts his head over to face Linda and I. He gazes at me with deep concern, then carries on facing forward. We watch as the lot of them disappear amidst the hordes of people in the market.

“That’s my husband for ya, always so bossy...” Linda states jokingly. “Anyway, shall we ladies go for a little stroll ourselves?”

 “Okay, sure.”

I hoist myself up from my seat and wave goodbye to Pietro. My eyes widen at the empty plate before me. I hadn’t been paying much attention at how well Eric devoured that plate of spaghetti. Goodness gracious, the guy must’ve been starving!

“Pietro, graze on behalf of Eric and I. Your food was mighty delicious!”

I only half-heartedly participated in feasting on that plate, but I was lucky enough to have a taste. Authentically Italian.

 “Of course. You and Ferrari, come anytime. Ciao, bella.” he states adoringly.

“Ciao.” I wave goodbye and just before I walk away, I notice the bag of strawberries on the counter. I clutch it quickly, then proceed to march off with Linda.

 We slowly make our way through the bustling aisles, heading towards the exit.

“What’s in the bag, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh this!” I snicker, “um..just strawberries Eric bought from one of the stands earlier. He wanted me to try one. Made such as big fuss about it.”  

We stroll along in silence for a brief moment, then she decides to initiate small talk.

“So whereabouts in the States do you live, Leah?” 

“New York City. Brooklyn. Born and raised.  

She darts her head towards me, her ocean blue eyes expanding.

“Well isn’t this world just getting smaller?! I was born and raised in New York myself! Boy, do I have some fond memories running around the streets of Brooklyn,” she reminisces, “what’s Brooklyn like these days?”

“Crazy. I mean, you’ve been there. Streets are always jammed, people have no manners. Everyone seems to go about their day mindlessly. Honestly, it was getting a bit too much for me, so I’m glad I took this job for the summer. I like Stockport. It’s so…quiet here. It’s refreshing, really.” I smile at her sheepishly.

“New York hasn’t changed one bit from the sound of it, has it? You know, Stockport’s become one of mine and Paul’s favorite little towns. We come up here occasionally on the weekends when Paul has himself booked to work at Strawberry. A little more peace and quiet for him, you know?

“Yeah, I’ll say.” I concur.

She smiles at me gleefully. We walk in silence for a brief moment, then she decides to break the ice.

“Alright, let’s just cut to the chase.” she declares.

My eyes shoot towards her, my brows furrowing in bewilderment.

“What do you mean, Mrs. McCartney?”

“Oh please. Call me Linda.”

“Okay…Linda.” A tiny smile spreads across my face.

“What do you think about Eric? I saw the way you looked at each other…there was definitely something there.” she smiles at me adoringly. Her bright aura provides solace.

“Um…” I let out a nervous laugh. I feel my face growing warm.

“Come on, we’re both girls here. We can tell each other anything. This would just be between you and I, Leah. Promise.” She has such a way with words.

“Do you mean from a photographer’s point of vi—”

“No Leah, what do you think of him?” Her tone is different this time. She is searching for a confession.

My face feels flushed. I cup my hand against my cheek and evidently, I feel the temperature on my face rising. I clear my throat and fix myself.

“Eric is quite the charmer, isn’t he?” I gaze at the blonde eagerly.

We approach the exit and reach the main quarter of town. We ignore the bustling crowd as we continue our banter, walking aimlessly.

“Yes. He certainly is. You know, Paul and I have been trying to get him to come out more and meet new people. This past year especially, he’s been a hermit working at that gosh darn studio. He almost never takes a day off. We think he needs a woman’s attention for a change.” She is straight to the point, and does not beat around the bush. I appreciate this woman’s audacity.

“And is that supposed to magically fix his problems?” I chortle with amusement.

“No, absolutely not, “ she darts her eyes towards me, “you know..I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this but, he’s talked awfully lot about you. He’s very fond of you, I can tell.” 

I shoot my gaze towards her, gaping at her with eager eyes.

“What has he said about me?...if you wouldn’t mind sharing, of course.” This has piqued my interest.

“Well he and Paul talk almost everyday. Those two are inseparable, like two peas in a pod. They tell each other everything.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Is that right?” I prod her to disclose further.

“This past week especially, we’ve noticed that Eric has been…beside himself. It’s one of the reasons Paul and I decided to come up here this weekend. But now, I see why he’s been acting a bit strange.” She beams at me, pursing her lips.

“I beg your pardon Linda but, I would still like to know what he has said about me.”

She comes to a halt, prompting me to do the same. She shifts her gaze from one side of the street to another, then peers into my eyes.

“Come with me.”

She clasps my hand gently and drags me towards a quiet street corner. I am eager to know what she has to say.

“Leah..I think Eric has very strong feelings for you.” She smiles at me brightly.

I widen my gaze at her. I feel another lump traveling down my throat. My jaw tenses.

“How do you mean, Linda?”

“I mean the guy hasn’t stopped talking about you! Lately, all he’s ever spoken to us about is how he hasn’t stopped thinking about a certain girl. He says this girl is simply wonderful and organic and was adamant about us meeting her. And today we are fortunate to finally be acquainted with this lovely young lady.”

She shovels me into her with one arm, gently patting me on the shoulder. I am at a loss for words. My mind has gone a bit fuzzy.

“..we are just so happy he’s found you,” she resumes, “we haven’t seen him this happy since, you know…before the divorce.”

There’s that word again. Divorce.

“Leah? Are you alright?” She furrows her brows, gazing at me with concern.

 “I’m sorry, Linda. I just…I’m trying to take this all in.” I blink at her nervously.

“Hmph, well at least that’s off my chest. What do you say we head back to the studio? Hopefully we’ll catch Mary and the boys in the nick of time.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

*********************************************************

“It’s called a gizmotron. Gizmo for short. ” Lol plays a simple note to demonstrate the function of the device.

I struggle to conceal my laughter. He, Graham and Kevin are all back at the studio and are now dressed in women’s clothes. I study the clever application of blue eyeshadow and light foundation on Lol’s face. His hoop earrings shine against the interior lighting as he allows them to dangle with every head moment.

“I’m sorry, Lol but I have to say..you look absolutely fabulous in your attire.” I peer at him with a toothy grin.

“Mm..Thank. You.” He chirps in his impressive falsetto, batting his eyelashes at me.

“Get a hold of yourself..” Graham sneers disdainfully, nudging Lol with his elbow.

I hear the sound of the front door opening.

“The troop has landed!” Paul’s voice echoes across the room.

“Honey, we’re hoomee..” Eric’s sing-songy, mancunian brogue channels through the studio.

“Daddy?” Dieta gasps, her eyes widening.

“Dieta?” Mary’s wanders deeper into the studio. Her hazel eyes look on to Dieta wondrously.

“Mary!” Dieta gasps as her gaze meets Mary’s.

The girls run towards each other ecstatically, colliding into a massive embrace.

“Alright, slow down girls.” Paul warns.

He and Eric step into the studio carrying bouquets of flowers.

“You will come downstairs to the studio with me, won’t you Mary?” Dieta gazes at Mary eagerly.

“Why yes of course!” Mary sounds elated.

“Come! Come! I want to show you something.” Dieta begins to walk towards the staircase leading down to the basement and Mary follows behind her.

“And just where do you two think you are going?” Eric follows the girls, raising an eyebrow at them.

“I wanted Mary to have a listen to my song daddy, is that alright?” Dieta gazes up at Eric.

“Yes, but please remember to be careful of the controls.” He gently reminds the girls.

Dieta’s jaw drops to the floor as she ogles at the lovely bouquet of peonies her father is holding.

“Are those for me, daddy?” the girl gazes up at Eric with a bright affect.

Eric doesn’t say a word and instead, he winks at his daughter.

“Oohhh…” Dieta giggles. “..right, we’ll be downstairs then.”

“Be. Careful.” Eric warns Dieta once more.

The girl sticks her little tongue out at Eric playfully. Her mischievous giggle becomes more faint as she travels further down the steps with Mary.

Eric laughs coolly, shaking his head. He turns his head to face me, and our eyes meet. He takes the short leisure stride towards me, maintaining his gaze on mine. 

“Hello again.” His tender voice tickles my eardrums.

“Again? Have we met before?” I smile at him cheekily.

“No. This would be the first time.” He plays along. His smile is infectious. “Anyway, these are for you.”

He hands me the bouquet of peonies and I accept them despite the slight pang of hesitation in me.

“Eric, you shouldn’t have…”

My eyes shift from the flowers then back to him. I reach over and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you. These are beautiful.”

“You mean, like you?” he gives me a smug look.

“I can tell they gave you a nice rehearsal befo—”

“Hmph..” Graham walks up to Eric and I with a scornful expression.

Eric’s takes one good look at Graham’s attire and the impressive cosmetic work on his face, then immediately bursts into laughter.

“Eh, what happened to you?! Why are you dressed in drag?” Eric exclaims, gathering himself.

“We lost a bet to a nine year old.” Graham maintains his glare on Eric. “And you happen to be that nine year old’s father so I am holding you responsible.”

Kevin waltzes his way towards us and loiters next to Graham.

“Personally, I think this look suits us. Graham doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He shakes his thick, luscious curls before us pompously, then takes a quick hit from his cigarette, and blows a steady stream of smoke.

“Did Dee put you on to this then?” Eric chuckles, barely hiding his amusement.

“It was our fault, really. We shouldn’t have made a bet with a nine year old. That was our first mistake.”

“Mind if I join this little communion?” Paul enters the circle. “What happened to the lot of you?” He cranes his head from Graham then towards Kevin.

“I was just asking them that.” Eric cackle.

“Would you wipe that silly grin off your face, Stewart?” Graham blurts out scornfully.

“Aw sweetheart…if it makes you feel any better, you look beautiful in my eyes.” Eric peers into Graham’s eyes with pure adoration.

“You little menace...” 

Graham tackles Eric then the two proceed to wrestle playfully.

“Graham. No. Please. Stop. I don’t hit women.” Eric teases, struggling to break free from Graham’s chokehold.

“Alright, go on. What other smart comments have you got in you, Stewart?! Why don’t you just fight me like a man?”

“Boys…boys…listen,” Paul announces, “Next train to Manchester leaves in about 30.”

Eric and Graham peel away from each other, both exchanging baffled looks.

“What’s he on about?” Eric mutters to Graham.

“Not a clue.”

“Eric? Remember what we talked about earlier?” Paul raises at eyebrow at Eric.

“Oh. Right. Er…everyone, Paul and I were wondering if any of you would be interested in going out clubbing in Manchester tonight.”

“Oh yeah, I’m in.” Lol creeps in, resting his hands on his hips.

“Well hello, m’lady.” Eric chirps, ogling Lol from head to toe.

Paul wolf whistles with unrestrained exuberance, delighted by the sight of the beautiful piece of art standing before him named Lol Creme.

“Do you boys fancy my hoop earrings?” Lol exclaims in his trademark falsetto, moving his head side to side to dangle his jewelry.

Eric and Paul clap jovially in unison. They take turns whistling and shouting praises at Lol. The guy is such a sport for playing along. I stand quietly as I observe the way this whole circus act plays out.

It’s not long before the group disperses and Eric and I are once again left to our own devices. I marvel at this stunning bouquet of peonies I have been cradling since Eric bestowed it upon me.

“Thank you again for these flowers, Eric. They look wonderful.” I beam at him graciously.

“My pleasure, love.” His feeble smile instills warm energy in my core.

“Anyway, would you like to come out with us? I would love it if you came along.” He begs with his eyes.

“Well..it is getting a bit late, and I’ve got a session booked for tomorrow morning.”

“Come onn…please? One night won’t hurt, will it? Can’t you reschedule the session? You will have a good time. I promise.” He carries on pleading, trying his hand at everything to convince me.

I ponder the feasibility of joining tonight’s festivities, and the consequences of canceling tomorrow’s session. Come to think of it, I can always ask my apprentice to cover for me. I could use a little fun on a Friday night, I suppose.

“I’ll think about it..but if I am going out, I had better find something more suitable to wear.”

Eric examines my attire from head to toe then meets my eyes again, smirking.

“I think whatever you’ve got on is fine.”

“Please, I insist. Would you swing by my place in an hour? I’ll have a decision by then.” I am straight to the point.  

“Right, okay. Your place. In an hour. Sounds like a plan.” He sounds elated.

*********************************************************

We find ourselves at this versatile nightclub called Fagin’s right in the heart of Manchester. An hour into our rendezvous and already, our adrenaline is picking up. We are joined by the wives of Kevin, Lol and Graham. Our guests of honor are of course, The McCartneys. There is perpetual chatter all around me, and the music is blaring in the background. To say that I am a bit overwhelmed is an understatement.

Eric is on his third line, but his behavior has become quickly erratic. My gut tells me that he might have done a few more lines prior to us coming here. He wipes the white powder residue from his nose with the back of his thumb. He looks at me with a smug expression. The sunamagun looks so proud of himself, I ought to slap him.

“Leah. Leah. Leah. Leah..it’s your turn, my darling. Your turn. Make me proud. Just do it. Do it please.” He slurs his speech, and it’s only getting worse. I begin to worry about him. 

“Eric...I don’t think this is a good idea—”

“Just one line. That’s all I’m asking, my love.” He leans into my ear and murmurs, “it’s going to change your life…”

He nuzzles his nose against my face. He smells of bourbon, cigarettes and aftershave.

“Mmm..would do you it for me please, beautiful? And we can go dancing after if you want.” I can feel him smiling against my face. He feels warm to touch.

I examine the line of white powder sitting before me. I decide to go for it, but just before I do, I take a swig of whiskey from my shot glass. I take a deep breath in, then out. Here goes nothing..I lean closer to the glass table then proceed to inhale the white power swiftly, closing one nostril with my finger, then I sit back up. I am immediately hit with a rush of adrenaline, my heart feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest. I feel every pulsation against my head and neck. I can feel my blood rushing through my veins. My mood is uplifted, and my body is craving movement. The effects of cocaine are hitting me harder than I thought.                

“How do you feel?” Eric searches for my eyes, grinning like a chesire cat.

“I thought you said we were going dancing?” I raise my brow at him, tilting my head to the side playfully.

“Well why didn’t you say something sooner, madame? Come along then.”         

He stands erect, then snatches my hand and we march towards a staircase leading down to the basement. The music grows increasingly louder as we traverse deeper down this dark structure. I notice every pulsation thumping against my temples with each beat that collides my eardrums. My heart is knocking against my chest. I walk to match Eric’s stride to distract myself from thinking about every sensation.

Eric leans his elbow against the bar counter with undeniable suave. He fixes his gaze on me, his smirk is criminal.

“Can I get you a drink?” His smirk darkens.

“Whiskey. On the rocks. Please and thank you.” I mirror his sultry expression without peeling my gaze off him.

Eric makes eye contact with the bartender and responds to cue. He marches towards us.

“Two whiskeys on the rocks please.” Eric declares to the man.

“Coming right up, sir.” The bartender nods and scuttles towards the liquor display.

Eric narrows the gap between us, and I watch as the bartender effortlessly prepares our drinks. He returns with our beverages and places the glasses gently on the counter.

“Two whiskeys on the rocks. Enjoy.” He smiles at us cunningly.

We each take a glass and, as if muscle memory, we clink our glasses gently.

“Cheers, Walker.” His dark smirk broadens.

“Cheers to you, Stewart. Here’s to…your award.” I complement his smirk.

“Why thank you. I appreciate that.” He twists his lips into a smile.   

On the train ride to Manchester tonight, Eric finally shared with me how he and the group won a gold disc for their most recent album titled “The Original Soundtrack.” He had given me a copy of the vinyl earlier and I am looking forward to listening to it. If it won gold, it must be really good.

Suddenly, a familiar tune comes on. One would immediately recognize it from the first few seconds. It takes me a brief moment to remember the song title. Like a clairvoyant, Eric provides an answer.

“Lady Marmalade. La Belle. Shall we dance, m’lady?” He inquires politely, carefully snaking his long, skinny fingers through mine.

“It would be an honor.” I smile caressingly at him.

We take a massive gulp of our beverage, then head on to our mission. He leads me onto the dance floor where everyone and their mother is gathered. I watch as three women with beautiful, healthy afros wearing silver sequin dresses move to the groove. Their harmonies are absolutely stunning. I allow my body to move to the rhythm of the song, and Eric attempts to match my movements.

“I didn’t know you were quite the dancer, Walker. I’m impressed.” He chuckles, swaying from side to the side, seemingly invigorated.

“I can say the same about you.” I smile at him gingerly.

He closes the gap between us. This man is like a furnace but in human form, the way he emits an incredible amount of heat. We step into each other, one foot opposite the other’s. Then suddenly, Eric begins to lose his balance.

“Why I feel so fun..my chest..hurting..” His speech is barely comprehensible. He clutches onto his chest, wincing.

He falls into me and I catch him in my arms in the nick of time. His entire body feels limp. I lower him carefully onto the floor.

“Eric? Eric?!! Are you okay?! Eric Stewart!…” I shout over the music.

I kneel adjacent to his comatose body, hovering over him with a concern expression on my face.

“Eric! Wake up!” I shout once again, and I begin to get choked up as grim thoughts settle in my mind.  

I give his shoulder several hard taps, but he is not responding. I shake him around vigorously and still, no response. His chest is not moving, and my worst fear dawns on me when I check the pulse in his neck and I feel nothing. My adrenaline immediately kicks in. I quickly rip his white button down shirt open to expose his bare chest, and immediately resuscitate him.

“Help! Please! Oh dear God please, someone help me! My husband is not waking up!” I yell out to the crowd who now have their eyes on me as I struggle to resuscitate.

“Eric..come on, baby. Stay with me.” I am almost choking through my words as tears begin to trick down my cheeks.

“Ma’am, the paramedics are here!” A young man calls out.

Despite the tears streaming down my face, I maintain my gaze on Eric and continue to compress his chest purposefully. His face is growing paler, the rosy appearance of his cheeks is gradually dwindling away. His lips, what were once a vibrant pink, have now turned a touch purple. I maintain compressions as my tears fall onto his chest.

Suddenly, by the grace of heaven, the paramedics roll in in an orderly fashion. They have brought with them their emergency equipment.

A female paramedic taps me on the shoulder.

 “Ma’am, excellent job on compressions! But we’ll need you to step aside. We’ll take over from here.” She states matter-of-factly.

I follow their direction, and hoist myself up then stand back. I allow the squadron to perform their duties. I watch as one of the personnel delivers compressions and the other prepares to shock him. I observe another staff attempt to insert, what appears to be, an intravenous line in his hand.

“All clear please!” the female paramedic calls out.

The squad clears the space as the woman delivers a shock. Eric’s body jolts as she delivers the shock. I peel away from the scene as I cannot bear to watch another second of it.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?!” Kevin’s eyes widen as he watches this atrocious scene unfold.

The rest of the crew begin to trickle in and watch in horror.

“Oh, Kevin..this is too much for me..he doesn’t deserve this..he is too young..too young..” I throw myself onto him, soaking his shirt with my tears.

“There, there now...Eric will be alright, darling. He is one of the strongest people I know..” His voice fades as he stares off into the distance, brushing my hair gently with his fingers.

Lol attempts to run towards the scene, but is reeled back by Graham.

“That’s my brother! Save him..save him, please! I beg you! Eric, Wake up! Wake up! Please..please…please…” Lol yells out, his voice squeaking as he sobs hysterically. There is pain and agony in his tone, it is disheartening. He buries his face into Graham’s chest.

Graham does his best to console Lol, who has gone hysterical. I notice the tears begin to trickle down his face.

“Eric will be okay. Eric will be okay. He’s a strong lad.” Graham chokes through his words as tears stream down his handsome face, gently caressing Lol’s back.

“We’ve got a pulse and a normal rhythm!” the female paramedic calls out.

The room has gone completely silent. No music to be heard. The only sound that can be heard is the quiet the chatter amongst the medical crew.

They’ve got Eric on oxygen and hooked up to all sorts of wires. The female paramedic walks up to me briskly.

“Erm..ma’am? Are you this man’s wife?” her question takes me aback slightly, but I must cater to how grave the situation is.

“Yes. Yes I am.” I say without hesitation, raising my head from Kevin’s chest.

Graham, Lol and Kevin seem unphased that I’ve just declared myself as Eric’s wife. Understandably, they are still a bit shaken up from everything that just happened. They stand dumbfounded.

“What is your husband’s name?” the woman inquires.

“Eric. Eric Stewart.” I say monotonously. I am truly at a loss for words.

“Mrs. Stewart, I’m sorry but we’re going to have to take Mr. Stewart to intensive care for observation. We need you to accompany him.”

Intensive care? What?

Lol and Graham rush towards us.  

“Can we come as well?” Lol is almost begging.

“Sorry sir, only immediate family members are allowed for now. You may ask to see him tomorrow.”

“We are his family, you know.” Lol chokes through words.

“Is Eric going to be alright?” Graham’s voice is shaking.

“Like I’ve said. We will have to take him to intensive care and monitor him for the night. For now, his vital signs are looking alright. We will take him to the nearest hospital. He will be in good hands.” The woman reassures the group.

Next thing I know, I am getting whisked away with Eric and the rest of the medical team in the ambulance. Once inside the vehicle, the grasp Eric’s clammy hand and caress it with my thumb. As soon as everyone’s settled in, we drive off immediately. I hear the siren going off.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Eric. We’re getting you sorted out. Everything’s going to be alright, everything’s going to be alright.” I murmur this mantra to him, sobbing as I give his hand a gentle squeeze.

The most important person in Eric’s life comes to mind at this moment.

“We have a nine year old daughter. She can’t afford to lose her father..it would crush her. I declare to the crew. “Oh please save my sweet darling Eric.” I sob hopelessly.

———————————————————————————

<<previous chapter next chapter>>

please visit my masterlist if you would like to see some of my other work :)

[bnd-yuwon]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ Yuwon's Profile 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

𝓦𝓔𝓛𝓒𝓞𝓜𝓔

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡ MEET BOYNEXTDOOR'S GODDESS *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

ೀ⋆｡ basic infoೀ⋆｡

☁︎STAGE NAME: Yuwon (유원)

☁︎BIRTH NAME: Kim Yuwon (김유원)

☁︎NAME MEANING: "Noble or brave"(Kim), "Paradise, Eternity" (Yuwon).

☁︎NICKNAMES: Yuwonie, Wonie, Wonwon, Princess, "Born to be Center", "Goddess", "Aphrodite", "5th gen IT Girl"

☁︎BIRTHDAY: MAY 08, 2001

☁︎BIRTHPLACE: Seoul, South Korea

☁︎NATIONALITY: Korean

☁︎ETHNICITY: Asian

☁︎ZODIACS: Taurus🐂

☁︎BODY MODIFICATION: Ear Piercing

           ｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡ HAIR COLOR: Golden Brown

EYE COLOR: Golden Brown

HEIGHT: 180 (5. 10)

WEIGHT: 42kg (92Ibs)

          ｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

*➳♥FACE CLAIM: Ju Jingyi

*➳♥VOICE CLAIM: IU and Wendy (Red Velvet)

*➳♥RAP CLAIM: So-yeon (GIDLE)

*➳♥DANCE CLAIM: Lisa (Blackpink)

*➳♥STAGE PRESENCE CLAIM: Lisa (Blackpink)

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ Yuwon's Career Information ♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

☆COMPANY(S): BIGHIT ENTERTAINMENT(2023), KOZ ENTERTAINMENT (2023-PRESENT)

☆GROUP(S):  BOYNEXTDOOR (2023- Present)

♡TRAINING PERIOD: 1 MONTH

♡DEBUT DATE: May 30, 2023

♡DEBUT AGE: 24

♡DEBUT ALBUM: "WHO!"

-'ღ'- idol info -'ღ'-

˖◛⁺ ⑅ ♡ POSITIONS: Co-leader, Lead Rapper, Main Dancer, Main Vocalist, Visual, Center, FOTG.

˖◛⁺ ⑅ ♡ REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI: 🐰

˖◛⁺ ⑅ ♡REPRESENTATIVE COLOR: white /🤍

✦*͙*❥⃝∗⁎.ʚɞ.⁎∗❥⃝**͙✦

❥[◉"] SKILLS

— Vocals: 10/10

—Rap: 10/10

— Dance: 10/10

— Song Writing: 9/10

—Composing: 9.5/10

—Acting:10/10

—Modeling: 10/10

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❥[◉"] SOCIAL MEDIA:

BOYNEXTDOOR

-Website (Japan): BOYNEXTDOOR JP

-Facebook: BOYNEXTDOOR_official

-Instagram: boynextdoor_official

-Twitter: BOYNEXTDOOR_KOZ

-Twitter (Japan): BOYNEXTDOOR_JP

-Weibo: BOYNEXTDOOR_KOZ

-YouTube: BOYNEXTDOOR OFFICIAL

-TikTok: @boynextdoor_official

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

1.---She was born in Seoul, S. Korea.

2.--- Her personality is like a loving mother.

3.---She attended St Paul's Girls' School Elementary (graduated), Dwight School Seoul (graduated), Harvard University (previously before moving to Korea) & Yonsei University (Department of Medicine and Business Administration.)

4.--- She can play the piano, flute, violin, cello, guitar, drums, & harp.

5.---She has a pet dog named Leo. 6.--- She made an appearance in many BTS MV 7.---Her favorite flavor of ice cream is cookies and cream.

8.---She is the global brand ambassador and muse for Innisfree, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Celine, CHANEL, HERA, CALVIN KLEIN and Dior, 9.---Her stylist calls her "Perfect Beauty" 10.---She loves cooking.

11.---Her favorite song is Love Wins All by IU

12.--- She loves eating anything sweet or spicy

13.---She loves spoiling the members with food and gifts.

14.---She was never a K-pop fan until she became a trainee

15.---She can memorize any song or dance with just one look

16.---She has a photographic memory

17.---She has a huge plushie obsession

18.---She's friends with every Hybe idols

19.---Loves wearing the member's clothes

20.---Her ideal type is "someone who prioritizes her over anything and acts like a child only around her"

ೀ⋆｡🌷personal infoೀ⋆｡🌷

 MBT: ESTJ - The Supervisor

PERSONALITY - mother-like personality, affectionate, charming, overly caring, kindhearted, passionate, open-minded, easygoing, confident, responsible, creative.

HABITS-  Raising one of her eyebrows, Pouting, Biting her lips, Sticking their tongue out, Sleeping anywhere.

KNOWN FOR- her goddess like visual, her strong and unique vocals, her strong dancing, her unbelievable stage presence, being the most popular K-pop idol, being 5th gen IT Girl, being the Nation's "Goddess", being a trendsetter, being the daughter of Kim Jae-yong SouthKorean business magnate and the vice chairman of  XXXX Electronics.

HOBBIES- cooking, traveling, musical instruments, photography, eating, sleeping, ballet, figure skating.

PHOBIAS- achluophobia (fear of darkness), astraphobia (fear of thunder and lightning).

FAVORITE NUMBER- 08 ( cuz it's her bday and lucky number)

FAVORITE COLOR-  black, white, and anything pastel.

CLOTHING STYLE-  has 2 types of style 

1- comfy everyday outfits ( got this style after moving to Korea cuz the old money style stood out too much while going out)

 2- old money outfits

FAMILY- mother, father ( only child)

BACKGROUND- come from a rich family and am known to be the perfect girl .... perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect manners. But deep down, she knew she was far from it. 

Tired of her family's expectations she ran away from home (aka went on a vacation to Korea) without her parents knowing. Moving to Korea she experienced what a normal life was like renting a small cozy apartment, enrolling in Yonsei University (Department of Medicine and Business Administration.), and working part-time jobs to provide for herself. (But without her knowing her parents already knew where and what she was doing the whole time).

Got scouted a hundred times by a lot of companies even the big 3 but rejected them all except for one particular company that begged outside her apartment for a week just to go audition at Hybe.

 Finally, after a lot of persuasion, she went to the company and passed after one look at the judges, trained for 2 weeks then got moved to KOZ Entertainment (due to Zico begging to have her as a member of BOYNEXTDOOR).

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟First serenade, and last serenade𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

[lboogie1906]

Addison Scurlock (June 19, 1883 - December 16, 1964) photographer, was born to attorney George Clay Scurlock and wife Nannie in Fayetteville, North Carolina. His family moved to DC where he began an apprenticeship under Moses P. Rice. He learned the basics of photographic portraiture and laboratory work. He founded his photography business in his parents’ home. He won a photography gold medal at the Jamestown Exposition.

In 1911, he opened the Scurlock Photographic Studio at 900 U Street in the heart of what was Black Washington’s theater district. He established himself as the preeminent African American photographer in the nation’s capital and was hired by government agencies.

He photographed nationally prominent African Americans such as Booker T. Washington, W.E.B. DuBois, Mary McLeod Bethune, Archie Alexander, Billy Eckstine, Paul Laurence Dunbar, Lillian Evanti, and Sterling Brown. Prominent Black Washingtonians such as Charles Drew and Duke Ellington were captured in his lens. He took the image of Marian Anderson singing at the Lincoln Memorial. He became the photographer of prominent white Americans such as President Calvin Coolidge and First Lady Mamie Eisenhower. Carter G. Woodson sent his portraits of prominent African American leaders in the packets he mailed to schools across the nation.

He was the first photographer to document the importance of Black life in DC. His photographs included businesses such as the Underdown Delicatessen, religious institutions such as the Lincoln Temple Church, summer events at nearby Highland Beach, Maryland, and sporting events at Howard University.

His family was involved in his business. His wife, Mamie Estelle, served as the studio’s business manager. He trained his sons to shoot pictures using his special style which became known as the “Scurlock look.”

His studio was awarded a citation by the U Street Association as the oldest business. He was the official photographer for Howard University until his death.

His son Robert ran the studio until he died in 1994. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[textbye]

Celebrity

Photographer: Steven Meisel

Stylist: Edward Enninful

Models: Frank Brown, Shannan Click, Gaspar Dietrich, Alice Dodd, Liya Kebede, Hannelore Knuts, Sasha Kristian, Carson Parker, Reid Prebenda, Missy Rayder, Adrien Saluan, Hana Soukupová, Julia Stegner, Caroline Trentini, Amber Valletta & Amy Wesson

Make-Up: Pat McGrath

Hair: Jimmy Paul

Production: Oliver Hicks

A.D.: Jason Duzansky

D.P.: Sebastian Kim

Photography Assistants: Michelle Cameron, Sharon Sylvester and Naima Coleman

Fashion Assistants: Michelle Cameron, Sharon Sylvester and Naima Coleman

Makeup Assistants: Yumiko Mori, Chiho Ohmae and Dawn Broussard

Hair Assistants: James Pecis and John Ruggelo

Prop Stylist: Victoria Morris