#a million flowers to the stylists

[minisugakoobies]

losing my mind over fluffy mingyu 🥹🫠💕

[seren1tyhaze]

poison in my mind

PAIRING: idol!jisung x afab older stylist reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: he has been your poison for years - Jisung with his innocent looking face, steely gaze, and wicked tongue. you do your best to keep a professional relationship with him during your work as a stylist for NCT Dream but his calls of "Noona" on set continue to test your patience.

AUTHOR NOTE: A VERY belated happy birthday to Andy Park and a big thank you to SM for letting us have that Poison live performance at the end of the year. This has been half written ever since the Poison track video behind vlog went up a million years ago but fueled even more by the dance intro at MMA. His more recent lives may have also served as inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this very self indulgent fic made especially for all my friends who also love Jisung <3

WARNINGS: explicit smut, idolverse, pet names (including Noona kink I'm so sorry)

PLAYLIST: Poison by NCT Dream, Quiet Down by NCT Dream, OK! by NCT U

dreaming 'bout you, dreaming 'bout you

~~ The set is buzzing with nervous energy in the dimly lit space, dark blue light cascading over the stage area dressed with large floral arrangements that almost make it look like the ocean floor. Renjun is talking to the camera filming their behind vlog footage and you look up from the shirt you are steaming when you hear his voice. 

“Dream will try for the sexy vibe for the first time,” with a sly smirk.

You can’t help but chuckle as the makeup artist next to you elbows your side and you tut at her, waving the steamer to quiet her. It wasn’t a secret that the Poison track video was going to be beloved by fans because of the concept and the way the members were styled. You had been tasked with pulling some of the key looks for the video, taking an opportunity to incorporate different textures like the metal grommets and fringe on the leather jacket Renjun currently was wearing. You watch proudly as he stretches his arms over his head in the center of the flowers, torso muscles rippling under the sheer mesh shirt.

You hadn’t been on staff for very long, a couple years of working under the main stylist under your belt. They had been hesitant to give you bigger opportunities due to your young age and lack of experience, but your boss saw that you had a great eye. It didn’t hurt that you were always the first one to volunteer for less than desirable tasks and always arrived early to shoots and stayed late.

“Sorry, this one’s a little too small, did you have others?” comes a voice behind you and you turn to see Mark, holding out one of the large metal rings you had laid out for him in his dressing room.

“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” you reply, smiling softly at him before kneeling down to dig in your bag for the small pouch holding the extra accessories. He was always so polite to the staff, greeting everyone and even when he was clearly exhausted, doing as many takes as the director needed.

“This one might work better and it’s adjustable,” you reply, taking his hand and sliding the ring on his pointer finger. You squeeze his hand gently before he inspects the rings, holding it out in front of him.

“Noona,” comes a harsh and low voice suddenly, causing you to move your head to the side of Mark’s leather clad legs to see an annoyed looking Jisung with crossed arms, shirtless and barefoot.

“Jisung, where is your shirt?” Mark replies, half laughing as he turns to face him, scratching at the back of his neck.

Ignoring him, Jisung returns his gaze to you and glares at your crouched position on the floor in front of Mark. A curious Renjun walks up at this moment, peeling a tangerine and flicking narrowed eyes between the three of you. Mark shrugs at him before walking away, answering a message on his phone.

“You tailored the crotch of these pants wrong, it feels weird,” Jisung continues, voice even and tinged with frustration.

Your face flushes at this, dropping the pouch back in your bag and grabbing your pins, suddenly on your feet and in front of Jisung.

“How do you know it’s wrong?” you ask, knitting your brows together as you look up at him. 

He looks good and you know he knows it. Something has shifted in Jisung in the past year - especially since they returned from tour. He carries himself differently, with a different level of confidence and wears it well. Today is no different and the fact that he just barged onto set without a shirt on is evidence. His dark blue hair is styled perfectly, long strands dangling in his eyes and contrasting beautifully with his sharp jawline.

“Here, feel,” he tells you simply, pulling your hand to his crotch and you almost let yourself palm him through the tight denim until you snap back to reality and pull your arm back. His eyes hold no emotion, dark and still, long eyelashes blinking at you temptingly. His lips are soft and plump and you want nothing more than to close the distance between the two of you and taste the glossy lip mask.

And there it is, your poison, Park Jisung. When you had graduated early from your program a few years ago, you had been focused on your career and hadn’t spent much time dating. You had some people you went out on dates with every once and a while and had your fair share of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a long night out. But Jisung had caught you by surprise. Something about the way he was so forward and aggressive with you made your brain turn to mush around him. Your heartbeat would quicken, palms sweat, and filthy thoughts would swirl in your mind until you could indulge in them with your hand pressed between your thighs later that night.

A heavy sigh comes from Renjun, accompanied by a shake of his head, as he walks out a nearby door muttering something about not wanting to see Jisung’s dick.

You flush violently, grabbing at Jisung’s bicep harshly and pulling him to his dressing room, leaving the door propped open intentionally as you take the layered black tank off the hanger and hold it out to him.

“Please put the rest of your outfit on, I think they are going to be ready for you soon,” you sigh as soon as you’re alone, reaching for the box that holds the platform boots you were reusing from a shoot with Haechan a couple months prior.

You both move silently as he pulls the shirt over his head, staring at the long leather cords before lifting his head back up to you. You move behind him, reaching over his broad shoulders to pull the leather cords around his neck and then letting the ends dangle in front of his toned chest. You try to avoid brushing your hands against his bare shoulders as he steps into the boots and ignore that his ass brushes against your stomach when he bends down slightly to zip them up.

“I just don’t know about these pants, are they the right length?” he asks, tugging at the material at his thighs. His tone is whining and defiant, lighter than how he was in front of everyone, but still slightly combative. He knows you’re weak for this very tone, as he can usually get you to do whatever he wants if he just adds it into whatever he says.

You sigh and move around him, dropping to your knees at his feet, slapping his hand away from pulling at the fabric. You pull the pants leg out of his left boot, pulling lightly and examining the hemline. You’re about to correct him when you suddenly feel his hand soft on your hair.

“You look so good from this angle,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry, causing you to jerk your head up and look at him from the floor.

Your lower lip is instantly caught in your teeth, sinking into the flesh deeply as you try to control your breathing, unable to stop yourself from blinking up at him. You feel drawn into his dark eyes and his hand in your hair is almost overwhelming.

He lets out a groan, tightening his fingertips on your scalp, exhaling audibly and clenching his other hand into a fist at his side.

“What am I going to do with you,” he tuts, dropping his hand to your chin and gripping it gently.

You rise from your knees, glancing at the open door just as Jaemin bounces by, screaming at something Haechan is doing. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step forward, adjusting the cords aimlessly.

“What happened to my sweet, innocent Jisung?” you whisper, staring at the soft skin of his collarbone and wishing you could press your lips against it forever.

“Don’t act surprised. You created this monster, Noona, dressing me in all these sexy outfits. How could you think I would stay your bright eyed baby Sungie forever?” he asks back, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear. His words are biting, even if they do hold some truth.

Memories of him dozing off on your shoulder during long bus rides and hastily helping him into heavy jackets and necklaces during quick changes on tour come flooding in, mixed with the heavy, lustful stares you feel on you when you wear a low cut shirt or on hot summer days in Thailand when you wore thin athletic shorts in the airport.

He had kissed your lips gently a year ago after many bottles of soju and when the rest of the members were preoccupied by endless rounds of karaoke. You had stopped him then, told him that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Ever since that moment, he had made every effort to get you alone when he could, using every excuse under the sun, today’s outburst nothing new. You still remember how soft his lips felt on yours and the fire under your arm as he held you close after you rejected him.

Back on set, you’re packing up your bag again when you’re called over to check something on the computer from Jeno’s scenes. You give your feedback and suddenly your eyes are drawn up to where Jisung is filming, camera close to his face, light illuminating his beautiful features perfectly.

“Dreaming ‘bout you, dreaming ‘bout you,” echoes across the large soundstage and your heart is pounding in your chest as he plays with the cords at his neck, just as you had earlier, chests pressed up against each other in the dressing room. He makes eye contact with you briefly when the take ends and you look away quickly, embarrassed.

While you had been released to go for the day, you take your time packing the rest of your stuff, helping the makeup artists clean their station and even rearranging some chairs that barely needed adjustment. You watch the way he moves confidently, take after take, adjusting the jacket so his shoulders show boldly against the dark material. His fingers brush through the cords, pulling them up to his teeth at times before dropping them, leaving plump lips open before cracking a large smile at the reaction of the staff. In between takes he shakes his dark hair, casting his gaze down to the floor until someone asks him a question. You watch as he smiles and winks at the makeup artist powdering his cheek and you feel nervous energy stir in your stomach. You can’t bear to watch much more, so you slip out when he isn’t looking in your direction.

When you finally are home, feet pushed into fluffy slippers and sipping on steaming green tea you had just prepared, you peel the sheet mask off and rub the remaining serum into your cheeks and forehead. You are flipping through a magazine your coworker had given you on set, paying attention to the tabbed pages they had flagged for inspiration when your phone buzzes on the table next to you. A message from the head stylist fills your screen as you tap into it.

Jisung left his street shoes at set, did you take them home? He said he “needs them” for tomorrow. 

You sigh and go to the shoebox by your door to find his Nike sneakers tucked neatly, laces wrapped nicely. You quickly reply to your boss, saying you don’t mind bringing them to the dorm since you know the managers had a late night meeting tonight. Running a brush through your hair, you dot some perfume on your wrists and behind your ear before grabbing your keys.

You fiddle with the edge of your oversized sweater in the elevator as you climb the floors to his dorm, feeling a nervous pit grow in your stomach. Finally outside, you knock quickly before dropping it down to hold the box with both hands.

The door swings open and Jisung is standing tall in front of you, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp. A dark zip-up hoodie covers his chest and it’s unzipped just enough that you can tell he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You can’t help but let your mind wander back to shirtless Jisung pulling your hand to his crotch earlier and wonder if he was just lounging in his room in the sweatpants. Or worse, just his boxers.

“Hi baby,” he slurs out, lips curving up at the edge into a mischievous smile as he props his arm up on the door, leaning down as if he might kiss you. His sweatshirt hikes up on his waist when he does this, revealing a large swath of skin.

You shove the box at him, pushing him back into the room with it, letting it drop into his hands. You fling your bag on the table near the door and step out of your shoes.

“Don’t hi baby me, Park Jisung. I know you left these there so you could see me tonight. Did it really take you multiple hours to realize you weren’t wearing the shoes you came in?” you reply with a huff, picking up a sealed water bottle on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.

Sweat is pricking at your hairline and you are starting to regret not texting one of the assistant managers or drivers to come get the shoes instead.

Jisung chuckles and sets the shoebox on a chair, reaching out to take the water bottle from you and gulping down the rest.

“Don’t be mad, baby,” he replies, leaving heavy emphasis on the pet name, stepping closer to you and wrapping strong arms around your waist, thumbs instantly finding the hem of your sweater and travelling across your lower back.

You can’t help how your body reacts to his touch, feeling your chest meet his, nipples hardening under the knit fabric now tugged down and exposing your cleavage. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes for the second time today.

“Come on, I’m catching up on our show,” he says softly, lips grazing across your cheek gently. You had been watching the same show for the past few months, texting each other during episodes here and there, and chatting about it whenever you saw each other. He had complained none of the other members would watch it with him and while you would never let him know this, you had lied and said you were also planning to watch it.

Against your better judgement, you let him guide you to his small room, where his large tv is paused on the latest episode of the space docuseries.

“Oh, I haven’t watched this one yet,” you admit, dropping down to sit at the edge of his bed.

He clicks to restart the episode and unzips the sweatshirt, moving to remove it and reveal his bare chest.

“Jisung,” you say sternly and he chuckles, zipping it back up halfway, and plopping down on the bed next to you. He pulls the hood up over his dark hair for good measure before propping himself up against the pillows he has leaned against the wall. You settle back, leaving some space between the two of you and pulling a hamster plushie into your lap to nervously fiddle with.

While your eyes had started to get heavy back at your apartment, you are now wired, your body coursing with electricity and hypersensitive to every movement from the man next to you. He reaches for his phone occasionally, letting out light chuckles at messages from Chenle and even daring to post a couple Bubble messages. You thank whatever higher power exists that your phone was still tucked in your bag at the door, so he didn’t see yours light up when he sent the message. It was a drunken guilty pleasure you had indulged in and ever since receiving the first message tailored with your name, you couldn’t stop yourself from renewing the subscription.

His legs keep brushing against yours when he readjusts his position on the bed and somehow has gotten so close that his shoulder is now brushing against yours. You try to shift away, but he only closes the distance again when you do so. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re having a difficult time focusing on the show.

Suddenly the screen is filled with bright colors as they depict beautiful graphics of what scientists imagine the birth of a star looks like and a gasp falls from your lips as you lean forward, eyes flickering across the screen to take in the beautiful scene.

“You’re so pretty when you nerd out over this stuff,” comes his low voice, suddenly close to your ear, hand resting in the middle of your back.

You lean back in reaction, trapping his arm between you and the pillow, turning slightly to face him.

“Coming from NASA’s number one stan, please,” you reply lightly, shoving the plushie at him playfully. You let a chuckle fall from your lips and shake your head lightly, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulders.

He grabs at it and throws it off the edge of the bed, hands suddenly tight on your hips and pulling you into his lap, possessively gripping your ass as you straddle his legs. 

Your lips drop open in surprise, both of you breathing heavy at the sudden movement. You feel your responsible self tapping your shoulder but finally decide to let the years of desire bubble to the surface and propel your lips to close the gap with his.

You move your lips across his gently, resisting the urge to push your tongue out immediately or bite down on his lower lip. He tightens his grip on you in response, pushing his crotch up to meet yours. You swear you can feel him through his pants which only makes you want him more.

He pulls away, taking your cheek in his other hand and looking between your eyes as if searching for some sort of silent answer to a silent question. You can almost see his own voice of reason forcing him to pause, if only for a moment.

“You ready to deal with the consequences of that monster you created, Noona?” he asks in a devastatingly low tone before moving his lips down to mouth at your chest, pushing the knit fabric to the side to bite at your shoulder.

A sigh falls from your lips as you let your head roll back, entire body on fire as he marks the skin at your neck, teeth sharp on your skin. You can’t help as your hands slide over the zipper of his hoodie and unzip it slowly, pushing the fabric down his shoulders to expose his toned chest. Running your hands over his hard muscles, you dig your fingernails gently, eliciting a deep groan from Jisung.

“Babyyy,” he sighs out, sliding his hand up to your throat and applying pressure there, pulling you forward to meet your lips again. The kiss is more urgent this time, tongue pressing deep into your mouth and hand gripping you tighter as he continues.

You let your hands slide down his torso, running over his abs and sliding them to his back to pull yourself closer to him. Before you can pull yourself fully flush against his chest, you are being flipped over, head falling back into the pillowy surface.

“Are you sure about this,” you ask, voice wavering despite every intention you had to form a confident question. Your eyes are flicking between his dark ones, as they had many times before, but suddenly holding so much more meaning in this intimate space.

“Are you not?” he asks back, head cocking lightly to the side, thumbs never stopping the circles they are rubbing into your hip bones.

“That’s not an answer,” you quip back, grabbing onto his hands to force him to focus. Unfortunately for you, it did the exact opposite.

You pull your eyes away from his, looking at your hands now pressed up against each other against the comforter. Your hand looks tiny next to his, his fingers could almost wrap fully around the tops of yours and that makes your mind fuzzy. You pulse your fingers, stretching them along his, feeling the length of them and how hot they are to the touch.

“Noona,” he calls, not as harsh and biting as on set, but still drawing you back to reality quickly.

His voice finally softens as he sees your watery blinking eyes, overstimulation creeping up on you before you’ve done much more than make out. He drops his thumb down the side of your face, caressing the space between your ear lobe and jaw tenderly. You want to look away, you want to push up and capture his lips in yours, you want to pull that stupid hamster plushie over your face and hide your burning cheeks.

“You know, I want it, I like,” he states, as if that is a full sentence other than in the context of the song they were filming with all day. His lips turn up in a small, shy smile at the end, showing a glimpse of that quiet boy you’ve always known and your heart settles a little in your chest. You nod rapidly a few times, sinking your nails into the palm of his hand and letting your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are on yours again quickly and that wicked hand that was just caressing your skin is now tightening around your neck again, which forces you up into an arch on the bed, pressing your lower body against his hardening cock. His tongue feels hot and wet in your mouth and you can’t help the moans that are escaping every time you have to pull back for air.

He sits up, straddling either side of your legs, tugging at your shirt and you manage to sit halfway up on your elbows, almost tearing the delicate fabric of your sweater as you rip it off, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as Jisung’s mouth is suddenly latched onto your neck, dropping heated kisses down your collarbone.

He sees you struggling and simply presses a strong thumb to the clasp, letting the cotton fabric slide off your arms and he tosses it clear across the room. This draws your attention to the door, which you realize now is cracked and you pray to every higher power that Renjun isn’t home.

“Hey, eyes on me,” comes the low voice above you again and you’re drawn back in, tuning out the distractions around you. He seems more amused than annoyed, which you have to appreciate given how long you’ve both waited for this exact moment.

Jisung makes quick work of removing his pants and boxers, reaching for a condom from his nightstand as you push down your own sweats, pausing at the thin band of your underwear. He sees you, dropping the foil packet to the bed and dips his head down, teeth dragging the elastic quickly, causing you to jump and let out a giggle.

“SUNG!” you yell weakly, trying to push his dark blue locks away as he continues to drag the dampened fabric down your legs.

He somehow manages to do it pretty easily, without getting too caught up on your knees or thighs, only struggling once he’s at your ankles and ripping them off with his hand, letting them drop to the floor with your bra.

He simply shrugs at you, a smile tugging at his mouth as he smooths those huge hands over your thighs, kneading the flesh there, eyes transfixed on your naked body. Your whole body is on fire and you silently beg for him to get on with it, even as it looks like he is about to swallow you whole.

A creeping monster your in your brain tells you you should feel more self conscious with him seeing you like this, despite both being equally exposed, realizing how many times you’ve seen him half clothed or even less. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he reaches up, covering your breast easily with his hand, thumb teasing your nipple absently. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but hold your breath as pleasure begins to flood through your body. 

You beg your own gaze not to lower, not ready to see the size of him fully hard. You’ve unfortunately seen almost all the members’ dicks but usually in quick, embarrassed, accidental glimpses. Well, except for that one time Jaemin was literally helicopter swinging it around in the dressing room when you walked in with a tray of iced americanos. Both him and Jeno couldn’t speak to you for two weeks while Chenle continued to bring it up every chance he could, even mimicking the motion during sound check at their next stop.

You are startled at the sound of him tearing the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly on and leaning back down, face inches from yours as he cups the side of your face again. You instinctively nuzzle lightly into his hand at the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut as you draw your lips to his hand, smelling faintly of the lube from the condom. You kiss in between his thumb and forefinger lightly and before you know it, he’s slipping his thumb in between your spit covered lips, pad of his finger gently pressing against your tongue.

You gasp but drag your eyes lazily to meet his, knowing your own hunger is visible now not only in your gaze but also in the eager sucking of your lips.

He groans, taking the chance to push into you and you swear you see stars. Your eyes widen but pull his thumb further into your mouth, teeth grazing across the tip of his finger erratically as your hips buck up to pull him impossibly close.

Jisung’s eyes are fluttering shut, thumb dropping from your lips, now flushed red with teeth marks and slick with spit, sliding down to clutch your throat once again. Your own hand flies to your chest, groping at yourself, desperate for something to hold onto as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

He’s quiet, but with deep and passionate groans tumbling from his lips every once and a while. You watch as sweat begins to form at his hairline, perfect face beautiful in the dim light of his room, quiet music floating from his tv’s speakers as the episode is long forgotten and scrolling through the credits screen endlessly. Each noise that bubbles up from his chest equally soothes and paralyzes you, your own personal brand of poison seeping coldly through your veins. Your lips are perpetually hung open, mouth becoming so dry you can barely squeak out your own moans.

You feel your orgasm building suddenly after a particularly strong thrust and you swallow harshly, moving to speak to alert him. He doesn’t need any warning, reaching down to throw your leg over his shoulder and angle his lower body to perfectly hit that same spot over and over.

In seconds the poison is washing over you, lapping first at your feet like waves at the shore, nearly knocking you out as you float high above yourself, almost feeling like you’re having an out of body experience. Your chest is heaving as he slows his movements, as if he’s going to pull out. 

A confused look forms on your face, head cocking to the side as you grip his arm, shaking your head wildly. Your hair is sticking to the back of your neck and you feel too hot on his plush bedding, but that isn’t reason to stop.

“Wait…what about…” you ask, confused, knowing he hasn’t come. Your eyes flick to the door again, wondering if he’s heard something while you were swimming a galaxy of bliss post orgasm.

He smiles at you, sliding out slowly and disposing of the condom quickly. He walks back over and takes your hand, bringing you to rise on shaky legs, standing naked beside his bed as he takes both your cheeks in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.

“I was thinking it would be better to continue what we started on set,” he purrs against you when he finishes ravaging your swollen lips.

A mischievous look forms in your eyes and you drop your hand to his stiff cock, giving it a few experimental pumps with the mix of lube and pre cum.

“Oh yeah?” is all you can reply, sinking slowly to your knees, still managing to tease him at this moment. You drop your hands to let them rest at your thighs, pressed together in an attempt to cool the burning heat still there.

He hisses out as soon as he can see you below him, bicep flexing as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head in feigned annoyance. His lids are heavy and all you can see are the whites of his eyes as they roll up in ecstasy.

You run your hands up your body, fingering the side of your neck and then tangling your fingers in your own hair seductively, never looking away from the man standing above you.

“Show me how good you can be for me, Noona,” he grunts out suddenly, gripping your chin way tighter than he had in the dressing room earlier. You grit your teeth but try to keep your face even as he tilts your head lightly, as if studying your face.

You gulp audibly and take him in your hands, finally faced with what you already knew was going to be stretching your cheeks as you were definitely going to struggle fitting him in your small mouth.

You tongue at his slit teasing it gently before sucking at the tip, letting it rest in your open mouth, eyes flicked up at him menacingly. You can tell from the look in Jisung’s eyes that he is dying to ram his cock down your throat but is trying so hard to let you set the pace.

Without any warning, you're sliding him further and further into your mouth, hands massaging his smooth calves to ground you. He’s getting louder now and one of his hands is playing in your hair, every once and a while gripping it tighter.

It only takes a few gentle thrusts till his voice becomes more strained and he’s tapping you on the head as a poor attempt of warning you he’s close. You resolve to let him spill into your mouth, but as soon as he comes the sudden movement causes most of the mess to land on your cheek and shoulder.

His loud exclamation of his pet name for you still ringing in the air, his hand loosens in your hair and you’re on your feet, hands settling on his broad chest, a hazy look of satisfaction on your face.

He seems mesmerised by you covered in his cum and draws a thumb up to that same spot between your ear and jaw, sliding it down and through the mess he made on your face. It’s as if everything’s moving in slow motion as your bottom lip drops open without a word and he slides his thumb into welcoming lips. You taste him, all of him, as he watches you suckle on the digit and blush form on your cheeks under the shine of your skin.

“Fucking filthy baby,” he whispers out, yanking you towards him as he sits on the edge of his bed and lifts you into his lap. 

You can feel him harden under you and feel yourself warm up as his cock brushes against your core. You grind down on his lap which is met by him only gripping your waist tighter and landing a light smack on your ass. You grin at this and lean forward to kiss him, pushing your tongue greedily into his mouth.

“Already wanting more?” he asks with a mild mocking tone when you pull back, breathless and red in the face. He’s fully groping your ass at this point, massaging your cheeks with his fingers and pressing his palms into the thick flesh there.

You nod aggressively as you grind down on his cock again, spreading your thighs a bit more for better leverage. You want nothing more than for him to slide his bare cock into you right here and let you ride him through multiple orgasms, your tits bouncing right at eye level as he groans into your mouth through open mouthed kisses.

He merely laughs, pulling you out of your fantasy and reaches awkwardly for another condom, hand firmly keeping you in place.

“As much as I want what you want right now baby, let’s make sure there’s no-“ he starts out, rolling the condom on with shaky hands.

“SUNG, PLEASE!” you yell, clasping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Even in the midst of it all, all the lustful years leading up to this moment, all the hidden glances and late night drunken thoughts, he is still your poison. Something that worms its way into your mind, into your heart. Normally, you wouldn’t even imagine being this close to someone without protection but somehow, Jisung does something to you that makes you want to be reckless. You want to be reckless with your heart, let it be swallowed whole by him. You want to throw your body on him, let him tear you down and degrade you and use you. You want to give him everything and every bit of love you can offer. You think you can see the two of you growing old together, sitting quietly in a park watching your grandchildren play together in the distance.

But you see, that’s the problem with poison. It gets in your veins, in your lungs, in your heart and slowly sweeps and finally, finally tears you down. You float high above yourself again, seeing stars as Jisung releases into the condom and his head falls against your chest. You are both quiet and unsure of what comes next. The poison of this night will wear off soon and reality will set in, leaving you only the memories of this night to return to in your dreams.

~~

[luceracastro]

SAN LUCAS

Enzo vogrincic x reader

Summary: you and Enzo had been together since you both were teens, now as you both matured and have proven that you both can be there for eachother through good and bad times, he pops the question and you both finally marry

Warnings: None except a bunch of fluff

You and Enzo met when you both were 15 in school, he remembers you walking into class on the first day, the school uniform adorned your body and though he usually hated it you made it look good, your pretty hair cascading down your back, your face was the prettiest he had ever seen

He remembers you were seated next to him and he could not bring himself to even speak to you, but when you asked him for a pencil and lent him a kind smile, he began to speak to you, simple hellos, good mornings, byes, then it turned into conversations about the assignments or teachers then your classmates

Then just about eachother, the two of you became the best of friends so naturally it was meant to be, he remembers telling you about his dream to become an actor and how he did theater, he invited you to see him and he didn't expect you to come but there you were in the front row with a smile on your face

You supported him and pushed him to reach his goal, his dream of acting because you knew he could do it, he could make it "Lo vas a lograr eso lo tengo por seguro" you said giggling as he smiled at you admiring you in every aspect

You helped him learn lines, helped him get into character and gave him honesty when he needed it, you attended every play and practice if needed, you supported him 100% and he couldn't be more grateful

He loved you, so much it was unbearable. He asked you to be his girlfriend when you both turned 18, for your birthday he brought you flowers and chocolate and saved up enough to take you to eat, it was meaningful and lovely

You swooned over it, he made time to plan this for you and he gathered enough care and thought to do that which made you blush and grin like an idiot

That night you both ended up in a field looking up at the stars, however you were the only one looking up while his eyes were stuck on you "quieres ser mi novia?" You heard him ask and you stopped talking sitting up and facing him "que?" You asked the look of disbelief on your face

"Que si quieres ser mi novia" he repeated and your eyes lit up and you nodded bending down to kiss him, that kiss was full of love and care, it was so sweet you still remember the feeling of it till this day just as he does

"Te amo" he said in between the kiss "yo tambien te amo" you giggled pressing your lips together once more, ever since then you both had been inseparable as he went to his practices and plays you followed, when you got big awards at school or simply had a special occasion he was right behind you

He loved you and you loved him. So it made sense that on your 29th birthday he got down on one knee and proposed to you, you cried like a baby accepting the proposal a million times as he cried holding you close

The one thing Enzo knew was that you were the one, and you'd always be the one.

So with the help of both mothers, him, and your bridesmaids the wedding was planned all within a year, now this was the morning you had been waiting for all your life, the makeup artist was working her magic as was the hair stylist

"Que hermoso este vestido!" Male Matias girlfriend had joined you and your bridesmaids in getting ready since she had been such a kind loving person towards you

"Gracias amor, me encanto en cuando lo vi!" You said excitedly and she grinned "te vas a ver como reina!" She squealed and you giggled "No puedo creer que te vas a casar" your mom said as she sat looked at you with eyes full of adoration and you smiled "Y con el chico que siempre me encanto para ti" She laughed as you chuckled

your hair and makeup was set, you were changed out of the silk white robe you wore and into the beautiful white dress you had fallen in love with since the moment you had first saw it after searching for months and in different dress shops

you looked in the mirror and smiled, "Estas hermosa!" your mom came over with a smile on her lips as you both looked in the mirror, only then did you realize you both had watery eyes "Ya te vas a llamar T/n Vogrincic" you both giggled

the transportation was easy yet the nerves ate at your stomach, your maid of honor took note and squeezed your hand "Sonrie" she smiled at you and you smiled too, but the nerves and jitters didn't go away "Tengo muchos nervios" you admitted smiling "Lo se pero vas a ver que todo va estar bien" she assured you and you took a deep breath nodding

you were helped out the car by your bridesmaids as they were careful to keep your white dress as white as it was, you had walked to where the ceremony would be held, your body was shaking and your belly hurt from all the nerves and butterflies "Te ves hermosa" you heard your dads voice as well as the crack in his tone

you looked at him as he held back tears at the sight of you, "Estas lista?" he asked and you nodded "Si, mas que nada" you chuckled interlocking your arm with his "Si quieres podemos huir" he suggested and you laughed nudging him with your hip as he laughed as well.

it was time, it kicked in as you were now beginning to walk down the aisle, rows and rows of close family and friends filled the seats and then your eyes landed on him, Enzo in that black suit, he had offered to cut his hair but you denied it, that was the hair you fell in love with and he liked it long so he resorted to taming it with some gel at most but to you, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen.

his eyes were watery, he looked at you with love, adoration, and admiration, he wiped the tear that fell on his cheek as you got closer, your dad placed your hand in Enzo's and he didn't leave without saying one last thing first

"Cuida de mi niña" your dad said and he seemed to allow his tears to slip down his cheeks and it seems Enzo had allowed his tears to do so as well, "Siempre, te lo prometo" he nodded

Your vows were anything but short, you and Enzo spoke of your fondest and loving memories and made promises to one another, “puedes besar a tu esposa” Enzo was quick to pull you in for a kiss, a very loving one

Walking down the isle hand in hand it was unbelievable, this was real, you both were officially together and you knew you’d never separate

“Felicidades a los casados!” Pipes voice was recognizable and you smile turning to see them all huddled together “Mas hermosa la señora Vogrincic” Alfonsina chuckled as she hugged you making you hug her excitedly

“Te ves Bonita gordis” Fran’s squeal made you laugh as you hugged him “tu mas Fran mírate” you teased “bueno bueno vamos a celebrar no?” Pipe smiled and Rocco put a hand over his shoulder “eh nomas quieres desvelarte”

“Eh pero yo agarro el primer baile con la novia hermosa” Enzo gave Simón a look “es mi novia eh cuidado” Enzo warned a small smile “Esposa, Enzo, soy tu esposa” you corrected him making him smile “Mejor que mi novia, mi esposa” he kissed you making you smile.

@madame-fear @luv4fati @creative-heart @espinasrubi tagging my loves❤️

A/n: I had sm fun writing this, in all honesty music inspires most of my fics lol but I hope you all love this just as much as I do,

And likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated but not required just as long as you all enjoy the read, love you guys❤️❤️❤️

[bangtanintotheroom]

Model Behavior (M)

Still hooking over Still hooking over and die

• Pairing: Taehyung x Assistant!(F)Reader

• Genre: Idol!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 3,181

• Summary: Helping with photoshoots brought you stress, excitement and a sense of validation. Today, you experience a new and unexpected emotion, thanks to the man at the center of it all.

• Warnings/themes: the Elle Korea photoshoot 😵‍💫, innocent touching (at first), flirting, eye contact, Tae in the open denim jacket ⚰️, making out, oral (m. receiving), a smidge of soft dom!Tae, Y/N using her teeth 🥴, restraining (with hands), cowgirl, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (a swift talk about BC and STDs is had!)

• Song Inspo: Quick Musical Doodles - Two Feet (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: When I tell y’all I am TIRED of this man wrecking me 🔪🔪🔪 I didn’t expect all of this from the Elle shoot! It got to me so bad that I started writing the beginning of this in the group chat… 🫣 Thank you to @minisugakoobies @sugalaritae @minttangerines for taking the ride to delulu land with me 💕💕💕 And thanks to @luaspersona for the helpful beta! 😚

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @jinsquishes @swweetnightt @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @ssaboala @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp

You're an assistant on the set of Elle Korea.

You've always been professional, especially since your position involved sprucing up the model at the time. From damn-near naked to partially covered, the human body never fazed you too much.

Until the day Kim Taehyung stepped into the room.

Your eyes were wandering.

Your responses were delayed.

Every time your fingers brushed against his sun-kissed skin, a spark began and traveled to the pit of your belly. And it didn't help that he had a tendency to look you dead in your eyes whenever you were in front of him.

His dark gaze penetrated you every single time.

But you managed to truck on and the rest of the shoot goes smoothly. Well, aside from the one time you almost missed your cue from the director, thanks to wishing you were the flower sticking out of Taehyung’s waistband.

Just as you were packing your bag, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You thought it was your boss and prayed that they didn't notice your slacking today; you had a cruise to go on next month. Opening your mouth with an apology ready, you spun around, only for it to evaporate.

For it was your distraction standing there.

"Hey. Y/N, right?"

Wait, he actually remembered your name? You were so used to 'the helper' or 'that girl' or 'you there' that the courtesy surprised you.

"Yes...Taehyung, right?"

A smile that lifted his cheeks came over his handsome face.

"That's me. Thank you for your help today, you work quick."

No Y/N, don't shuffle your feet like you're some shy schoolgirl.

Oops. Too late.

"Oh, thanks, but it's kind of what I have to do. If I was slow, I definitely wouldn't be here, haha."

You hoped you didn't sound too self-deprecating there, but it seemed to be okay as Taehyung chuckled.

"You have a point there."

Thinking that he was just coming by to pay his gratitude before moving onto whatever else million-dollar celebrities do, you were caught off-guard when he remained steady. For a few seconds, nothing was said as he continued looking you dead in your eyes.

Fuck, he needed to stop with that. Did he know what kind of power his deep brown orbs had?

"Y/N, listen. I need a bit of a favor before I leave for the day."

You blinked.

"You do? What is it?"

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his tight slacks, making the front of his open denim jacket part further, revealing more of that golden skin you kept eyeing up.

"I really liked these outfits. I wanted to see if you could give me the details on them so I could pass them along to my stylist."

Oh? You could do that. Anything to be around this gorgeous man longer.

"Of course! Just follow me to the fitting area, the bags have all the details."

Taehyung directed a box-like smile at you, nodding. You turned and motioned him to follow you down the hall and past people scurrying by with coffee trays and overflowing binders. Reaching your destination, you walked into the room with him, hearing the door shut behind as you made a beeline for the clothing rack along one of the walls.

You studied the cardstock hanging off of the first garment bag before speaking, "Okay, it looks like the red leather jacket you had was Valentino from the Fall/Winter 2023 collec—"

"Y/N."

You were interrupted by a baritone in close distance to your ear, turning your head to jump at how close Taehyung was standing next to you now.

"Y-Yes?"

His full lips curled into a crooked grin.

"I knew what collection that was from before I even got here."

Huh?

"You did?"

"Mhm."

A hand came up to hold yours, removing it from the paper.

That spark from earlier? Yeah, no, that was nothing, because his long and callused fingers against your smaller and somewhat dry ones lit a damn match inside you. And he only made the fire grow with the way his eyes lidded, looking so close to one of the shots that was taken earlier.

"Just wanted to get you alone."

Oh shit.

The air shifted thanks to his confession. The longer your gazes held, the more you forgot that you were at work.

You definitely shouldn't be alone in a dressing room with a famous idol. You definitely shouldn't be forgetting that anyone could bust in at any moment. You definitely should be reminding yourself about that cruise you still had to pay off. You needed this damn job and—

"Y/N."

A shiver ran through you. Damn, his voice.

"Don't think I didn't notice how you were looking at me the whole time."

Oops.

"I-I'm sorry, Taehyung, I shouldn't have been—"

Whatever else you wanted to say was halted when he pressed one of those appendages to your lips.

"Why are you sorry? You think I made you bring me back here for an apology?"

All you could do was stammer, looking undeniably stupid in front of someone who you deemed untouchable. Realizing you were at a loss for words, Taehyung took the reins and moved his finger before leaning down. You felt his wispy bangs brush against your forehead, eyes still on his smoldering gaze.

"If you're not averse to overtime, I'd like to see what's been running through this pretty head of yours."

Nope. This had to be a dream. Or a setup. Maybe that prick Kwan was trying to get you fired so he could get your position.

But...you didn't want to say no.

Licking your lips, you finally found your voice again.

"I...I don't want to get in trouble."

The idol didn't seem fazed, shoulders shrugging as he laid his hands on your hips.

"What happens in this room, stays in this room."

Ah. Well, that was what you would definitely consider a green light.

So you gave your own answer by grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging him in for a heated kiss. The next few moments were a blur.

There were hands roaming. His over your comfortable clothes that were starting to feel restrictive over time. Yours going straight for the warm, bare skin underneath the denim, doing your absolute best to remember every bump and dip. How many people would get to say they got to touch Kim Taehyung like this?

At some point, his back was pressed into the wall next to the rack, lips still ravaging your own. Your fingers went on autopilot for his belt, but as soon as you brushed the expensive leather, Taehyung broke the kiss.

"Hold on."

Uh oh. Did he change his mind?

You tried to stave off the disappointment coming on.

"What's wrong?"

He took your hands and pulled them away, but he never let go.

"I know how well these hands of yours work, baby—"

The smirk he gave you should have been illegal in over seventy countries.

"But I wonder if your mouth is just as talented."

Oh.

He had to have felt the way you trembled in his grasp. He had to.

"I mean...I've never had any complaints before."

Taehyung's eyes squinted at your sudden surge of confidence.

"Then don't be greedy. Sharing is caring."

Barely biting back a grin, you waited until he let you go before sinking down to your knees, coming face to face with a tent in his costly slacks. You began reaching for his belt again, only to feel a light swat to your hands. You gaped up at him in shock, only to quiver at the heat directed on you.

"I didn't say you could use your hands, did I?"

What had you gotten yourself into and how could you do it again?

“No, you didn’t.”

Taehyung’s straight teeth flashed dangerously.

“Don’t keep me waiting, gorgeous.”

While those few words rolled off his tongue, he took the opportunity to shift his hips closer to your face. You couldn’t hold back a swallow.

Hopefully, you wouldn’t make an absolute fool of yourself with what you were about to do.

You anchored your palms on your thighs, gripping lightly before you leaned forward, brushing your lips against the cool metal of his belt buckle. Praying that you wouldn’t get any marks on it, you took a hold of the leather with your teeth. You tried your best not to think of how stupid you might have looked, attempting to undo Taehyung’s belt this way.

But his word was absolute; no hands meant no hands.

Finally, you got somewhere, managing to release it from the metal prong before sliding the buckle away. This gave you access to his slacks now, relieved that this part would be much easier.

It was a good thing you only had lip balm on; any kind of stain on the expensive fabric would surely cause you to be reprimanded by your boss.

Your teeth loosened the button from its hole before going for the zipper tab, the sound of the fasteners undoing themselves like music to your ears. You went for his waistband as soon as you were finished, putting more force into your movement this time. With a sharp jerk, you pulled down enough to see a good portion of his briefs.

Just one layer left.

Taehyung seemed to be losing his patience, jutting his hips forward once again. Shooting him a reassuring look, you made quick work of the thin fabric. You barely had time to avoid his cock springing out and hitting you in the eye, face warming at the humored chuckle he gave.

Wanting to wipe the smirk off his face, your mouth engulfed as much of him as possible before giving a harsh suck.

“Shit—”

Lips curling around his length, you gave it your all, throwing in whatever tricks you were familiar with. Taehyung seemed to appreciate the effort, ebony eyes watching you like a hawk and filth-coated praises leaving his mouth.

“That’s it, baby— This what you wanted to do to me the whole day?”

Hopefully the way you fluttered your lashes got the message across.

“Goodness, I hope you’re not like this with every model you work with.”

Now your eyes narrowed, a hand coming up to swat his thigh on instinct. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize your mistake until Taehyung flew out to grab your wrist.

“What did I say, Y/N?”

Forgetting that your mouth was occupied, you began apologizing, but the idol was quick to stop you with his free hand.

“Give me your other arm.”

Your thighs quivered at the commanding tone covering the baritone now, obliging without a second thought. He wrapped his long fingers around your other wrist, keeping your arms up and next to his legs.

“Go on.”

You did not expect him to just take charge like that; the thought only made your pussy clench hard before you continued sucking him off.

For the most part, Taehyung let you do all the work. But sometimes his hips would come to life, taking a moment to give shallow thrusts into the wet heat of your mouth. The rational part of your brain freaked out whenever some of your spit threatened to leak out onto his pants while the horny part relished in the messiness.

Just before a large glob was about to slip past your lips, you felt him release your wrists and pull back to slide out of your mouth. While you were catching your breath, Taehyung helped you stand before walking you over to the couch on the other side of the room. He took a seat, keeping his legs spread as he tugged you by your hips to stand between them.

“Sorry to rush the fun, but my people are going to be looking for me soon.”

His hands already began working at your pants before the sentence was even finished.

“It’s fine.”

As soon as he opened the closures and yanked both waistbands down to your calves, you helped with getting them off your feet. He pushed his own clothing further down his legs and you straddled his lap, shivering at the sensation of his dick under your drenched core.

“You’re okay with this?”

Taehyung’s question took a second to sink in, but you nodded when it did.

“Yeah. I’m clean and safe.”

The man underneath you reflected the nod, hands sneaking around to cup your bare ass.

“Good. You don’t have to worry about getting anything from me, either.”

Your brows knitted jokingly as you felt Taehyung lift you up a bit.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to have to end up going to the media and letting them know that Kim Taehyung is carrying something.”

He merely chuckled, reaching down to guide himself to your entrance.

“And I don’t want to have to go to your boss and tell them about what went down in this room.”

Your mouth parted as you felt him begin to spread you out, words unable to come out until you were fully seated on his lap.

“T-Touché.”

Pleased with your acceptance, Taehyung took a hold of your hips and began pumping up into you. It was torture to have to hold back some of the louder noises you wanted to make, but you did not want to lose this damn job.

Guess you would have to show your appreciation another way.

Managing to balance yourself upright, you laid your palm on his chest, pushing the jacket aside to give you a better look at his torso. Your fingers roamed over the tanned skin, savoring the muscle and tone lying underneath. You took special interest in his stomach, enjoying the faint outline of abs that would show whenever he thrust up.

“Hey, that tickles.”

Your lips curled at Taehyung’s thick protest, sliding your index finger down to trace around his belly button.

“Sorry.”

He merely shook his head as you showed no signs of stopping your trek, digging his nails into your bottom.

“Sure you are.”

Taehyung made sure to get his revenge by pumping harder, forcing you to clap your free hand over your mouth, preventing a loud moan from escaping. He doesn’t slow down over time, fucking into you with abandon as low grunts left him. The model seemed content with watching you bounce above him for the most part. His dark orbs often switched between your face and where your bodies were connected.

The two of you continued until you felt that unbearable coil twisting in your gut, needing something extra to help it snap. Taking a chance, you removed the hand silencing yourself to grab one of Taehyung’s, sliding it between your hips. With a pleading look down at him, he nodded swiftly.

You were sure you tasted blood with how hard you bit on your lip when he started circling your aching clit.

But it was just what you needed, finding yourself getting to that precipice faster than before.

“T-Taehyung—”

Said man continued his movements, eyes steady on your face.

“Keep going, baby. Gonna make me come too—”

His admittance made your pussy quiver, but the excitement took a halt with a sudden thought you had.

“Wait, where are you gonna come?”

“I’ll pull out, don’t worry.”

Oh hell. If he did that, who knows where the mess would end up. While it would be unpleasant if it landed on your own clothes, any trace of semen on his own garments would cause a fiasco.

“Don’t, just— Stay inside, it’s fine.”

Taehyung gaped up at your words. It seemed like he wasn’t going to fight you though, not saying anything more. He let his hips do the talking for him instead.

With a few more steady thrusts and swipes over your bud, you saw stars behind your lids, arching your back and stifling down a cry in your throat. Your nails dug into the firm chest below, needing some sort of anchor as you rode out the tension. You almost missed the sight of Taehyung following behind you, watching as his face screwed up in bliss as ropes of release coated your walls.

His hips came to a stop after some time, his head flopping to rest on the back of the couch as he caught his breath.

“Fuck, that was good…”

You couldn’t speak quite yet, choosing to reflect the sentiment with an unsteady nod. The two of you took a moment to catch your breaths before you tapped his shoulder.

“We should probably get out of here now.”

“Ah.”

You were careful in pulling off of Taehyung’s dick, making sure nothing dripped out. Thankfully, a tissue box was nearby, allowing you to grab a few sheets to clean yourself up. You handed a couple to him as well.

Once you were done, you picked your pants and underwear off the floor, sliding them back on over trembling legs. Taehyung seemed to finish getting himself together at the same time as you, fastening his belt. He looked up at you with a grateful smile.

“Thanks for that, Y/N.”

You scoffed lightly, your own smile coming to the surface.

“I should be thanking you. When I woke up this morning, I didn’t expect to get the opportunity to fuck an idol.”

The taller man laughed at your quip, wispy bangs moving as he shook his head.

“Cross it off your bucket list. Who knows, we might see each other again in the future.”

Taehyung smirked at how flustered you became now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your swollen lips. He whispered against them, “Hell, I wouldn’t mind it. See ya.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye, heading for the door. Shooting you a wink, he opened it before stepping out and shutting, leaving you all alone in the dressing room now.

Wow.

Did you really just sleep with the Kim Taehyung?

And got away with it?

A short laugh couldn’t help but come out.

Hopefully he was telling the truth when he said that what happened here would stay between the two of you.

Glancing at your watch, you decided to head back to the set to help break everything down. You walked over to the door and placed your hand on the knob.

A sudden realization froze your body and made your gut twist.

The two of you forgot to lock the door.

Motherfucker.

All you could do was sigh and shake your head before leaving; Taehyung better keep his pretty mouth shut.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[cryptidfuckery]

hey i have a question since you’re in the cosmetology field: i’ve been thinking about taking a cosmetology certification course so i have a more employable trade skill (since im having difficulty finding an academically inclined job). do you think it’s a good idea? i’ve been told that it is because it’s still a semi-creative field and my undergrad degree is in art. i guess i’m just concerned because it’s like, “what if i spend the money on the supplies and classes and, at the end of it, i still cant find a job?” i also feel like, “the time will pass anyway, so i may as well.”

idk, what are your thoughts?

*rubs hands together* alright let's make a pros and cons list

PROS

- trade school takes less time and money than a degree. Often you can translate things you learned in your degree (especially art!!!) Into this trade

- you already have a leg up on so many other students simply by understanding color theory. I'm serious. You will start to understand how to formulate colors much quicker. This will make your life easier.

- you can be a little more picky about what kind of place you want to work. There are a million different types of salons that all offer something unique. You can find a mom and pop shop, or you can find corporate. You can find something in between. All have their own pros and cons.

- over time you can decide which skills you want to focus on and become a specialist. Seriously if you can learn how to platinum blonde people, you might have a wicked fun (AND LUCRATIVE) time doing vivids and alt vivids. Think rainbows and racoon stipes and cheetah print extensions and painting flowers on a buzzcut.

- this industry has the ability to be more lax with appearance. THIS DOES DEPEND ON WHERE YOU WORK. but! I find it's more and more of a trend to let stylists dress to express themselves instead of requiring a uniform. But this completely depends on your boss. I'll be real with you my clients have been dealing with me wearing sweat pants for years. The right ones will love you no matter how you look.

- even if you're still getting your skills refined, a lot of hairdressing is whether or not your clients like your personality. If you can hit the bullseye of doing their hair how they like it AND they love hanging out with you, you've just retained a client.

CONS

- overhead cost of going back to school. Check if you can access financial aid, you should be able to. But I paid around $17k for my 8 month full-time program. If you can't pay out of pocket, you'll be taking more loans home with you.

- time. Every state in the US has its own individual requirements for the hours needed to apply for a license. I'm in Massachusetts, which has one of the lowest hours needed at 1000. That translates to about 8 months full time (40hr weeks), or a year and a few months with the part time option my school had. CHECK YOUR STATE REQUIREMENT. You will only get a license valid in the state you went to school.

- you usually leave cosmetology school able to pass the state board exam. That is what the school is for. Most of the techniques and actual training ends up coming from the salons you work at. There is still a learning curve to hurdle after you get out of school. (Pro: But you'll be making money while doing it!) Some schools will give you more training, but it depends on the school (and they are usually more expensive)

- tagging onto the last one, your mentors are extremely important. Idk if this is a con its more what you need to be thinking about when looking for a place to work after school. Who your mentor is can make or break your experience at a salon.

- if you don't like working with, touching, or talking to people, this might not be the job for you. Being a hairdresser can kick your social anxiety's ass, but it's basically gonna be through forced exposure therapy. You'll be talking to people for the rest of your life.

- this is kind of both a pro and a con. On one hand, the moment you leave the salon you aren't taking any work with you. Ever. Unless you own your own place. On the other hand, you have to learn to leave your personal life problems at the door if you want to be a successful hairdresser. Yeah we cut hair, but we are also entertainers. Few people like a sad clown :( we're also therapists! Few people like a sad therapist :(

- school is....... school. You'll be in with a very, very mixed bag of people. My class even had a mother/ daughter duo attending at the same time! BUT! You will have to deal with fresh out of high school kids. This is the majority of the students. You might be able to curb this by starting before the end of the school year, but they will always be there.

And actually I got something else to say about that. The best thing you can do if you decide to do it, is to NOT treat it as school. Treat it as training for a job. You are there to learn the most you can so you can be as prepared as possible with what they're giving you. Your teachers will love you, and you'll feel like you made the most of your time with the money you are spending.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Fig Fashion Week: Marie Claire - Zhehan with Umbrella

Zhang Zhehan is kicking off the next round of Fig Fashion Week, where Four Seasons Figthusiast will be showcasing both our boys in their most fashionable wear!

Zhehan starts us off in style with his Marie Claire photo shoot, wearing this lovely Bottega Veneta number.

Imagine being at a resort and seeing a photo shoot like this. Amazing!

I wish this video of Zhehan being super cute with the umbrella was just a little bit longer, so we could see more of his smile!

The umbrella was a separate, totally optional purchase. I assume it's a cost consideration to make the base figs more affordable, which I certainly appreciate. That being said, I feel like it's often the accessory items that make the look of the fig, and this one certainly completes the magazine look.

However, more creative minds than mine could have him hold other things - a big flower, or a leaf, or something fun. Oh! one of those big swirly lollipops would be super cute!

I'm not sure why I have these rare creative thoughts AFTER I've stuck the fig down on a base and taken all the photos. Maybe because my brain is permanently stuck in work spreadsheet mode after all these years.

Anyway! We're not talking about me here, we're talking about this fig set. Focus, Lelanthe!

Here's the underside of the umbrella. I'm not gonna lie, my heart sank a little when I saw this. Along with having lost my creativity around spreadsheet iteration 9 hundred and 40 million, my handy do-it-yourself capabilities have also atrophied down. Now it's all butterfingers and a total inability to see straight (to be fair, I couldn't measure straight even when I was a sprightly arts-and-crafting teen). Luckily, unlike the umbrellas in the It's Raining post, this handle actually slotted into the faux-straw umbrella perfectly. I thought about leaving it removable, and maybe securing it with some museum wax, but I've had one too many instances of being in another room and hearing a crash! and racing into my office, heart in my throat, to see a fig has come loose and toppled down the display like the world's smallest and deadliest bowling ball.

Can you imagine the havoc this umbrella would unleash if it came loose? It's so big too, so it would be on the very top of one of my display shelves, and oh wow I'm going to stop thinking about that right now. My precious figs!

So yeah, one day after work I carefully squeezed some glue into the little hole there, and concentrated on holding it very, very even until it set. I then let it cure for a day or two, just to make sure it was extra secure before fiddling around with clipping Zhehan's hands around it. I was tempted to also superglue his feet to the standee, but I figured I'd try using fig stickers for him and the umbrella first. Which I'm glad I did, since it feels quite sturdy.

And here he is, looking adorable! I'm so happy, I think it turned out perfect.

This would be a really cute fig to have in a beachy diorama and to cover the up the standee with sand. With Beach Jun! Hmm.

This is a good angle with the light falling on his feet to see how he's wearing the woven mules from the photoshoot. With socks, naturally. I know this was a stylistic choice by a professional stylist, but is it just me or do we seem to have a TON of photo shoots with him in socks?

I suddenly wondered if I had turned his umbrella handle knob the wrong way?!!? I zoomed back up to check in the inspiration photo, and oh sure, yeah, I sure did. Tangentially, do you know I have 11 years of post-graduate schooling? You can tell because of my crack attention to detail.

ANYWAY, I'm just gritting my teeth and moving on here because if there's one thing this fandom has taught me it's that imperfection actually can be the most perfect thing, so here we go.

The umbrella felt big and bulky when I was fussing around with it, but I think it's actually perfectly proportioned.

Zhang Laoshi, I must admit that your shorts in the inspiration picture are indeed respectably knee length - not like Junjun, walking around in mid-thigh shorts. However, in fig form, I gotta say you're flashing a whole lot of fig leg there, even with those long socks!

He kind of has to though - there's just not a lot of real estate for the fig body, so if the shorts are modeled knee length the socks would just end up tiny. I think the fig maker did a superb job of translating the pic into fig form.

Look at that sweet face! I love his quirky smiling mouth. That little artful bit of his bangs there is wonderful, and spot on from the inspiration pic. His hands look great here too, very beautifully modeled. What a cutie.

A top view - the detail on the straw umbrella is really very nice. Very sharp (not literally) and clean. It always amazes me how good the quality can get on these figs.

The box card makes me laugh. The golf range I get, but the rubber ducky? Smarter minds than mine!

The box is the multi-purpose one that also houses the Be a Boss fig (forthcoming) as well as the ?? fig that is Bamian Mountain God (also forthcoming!).

The umbrella box, however, is all it's own, and features some pretty cute and funny line drawings of an attractively posing dog and a very charming cat!

Material: PVC (both fig and umbrella)

Fig Count: 331

Scene Count: 24

Rating: Summer sunshine happiness!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[confessionsfromthesecondrow]

Honey, We Shrunk the Interns.

Growing up, I never dreamed of pursuing a career in fashion. Right up until I left college in 2011, I was fixated on the idea of becoming a barrister. Although fashion was an avid interest of mine – one that I studied intensely, poring over my favourite magazines and keeping up with runway shows each season – it felt a million miles away from the reality of my quiet, suburban life. After all, it's not what you know, but who you know – fashion’s unofficial epitaph that is sadly still relevant over a decade later. 

With no connections via relatives or family friends, I turned to Gaydar, determining that through the gay network I’d find an in. As luck would have it, I came across a young fashion photographer who put me in contact with his stylist flatmate to embark on my first internship. 

I wasn’t paid a single penny, much to the dismay of my parents – who chose more reliable careers in building and finance – but my modest entry into the industry felt akin to the moon landing, at least to me anyway. I met models, hauled suitcases filled with returns on buses all over London, and peered inquisitively at the magic being made on set while steaming clothes in photo studios – marvelling at Prada samples that I recognised from the runway. I even met fashion royalty, in the form of Pam Hogg, who offered me a cup of tea when I turned up rain-soaked at her studio one sodden evening. 

From there, an internship at GQ Style followed, the majority of which I spent sobbing in the bathroom thanks to the (nameless) editor at the time who often humiliated me with pointless menial tasks. In one instance, I was asked to hand deliver a single daffodil to Alasdair McLellan sans address, later loudly berated in the open plan office for the flower’s wilted demise by the time I was provided with the studio’s location. 

My introduction to interning finished with a friendlier stint at Dazed – acquired via the gay network, once again – five years before I’d return in a full circle moment as a fashion editorial assistant. 

Beyond the obvious hands-on experience my months of interning provided me, it quickly proved even more valuable than I realised. After initially being rejected by University of Arts London to study fashion journalism, a follow-up email clarifying the additional internships I’d undertaken quickly secured me an interview and later a prestigious place on the course. 

Throughout my studies at university, we were encouraged to continue gaining industry experience, culminating in a term entirely dedicated to interning during my second year. Interviewing at Wonderland and 10 magazine, I chose the latter, and continued interning there throughout my final year – while simultaneously juggling my final major project, writing my dissertation, and a part-time job – until I ultimately became the publication’s fashion assistant upon graduation. 

Over my career, I’ve had the privilege of working with hundreds of interns – the good, the bad, and the lazy – the brightest sparks among them going on to become my peers holding jobs at Clash, The Face, GQ, Wallpaper*, Matches, and British Vogue. As was my experience at 10, it was common for brilliant interns to find themselves earning entry-level full-time roles within Dazed and AnOther right up until the pandemic when the company’s internship programme was discontinued. 

At the time, the Guardian reported that 61% of employers cancelled their placements due to the pandemic, with small and medium-sized businesses the most likely (49%) to do so. Yet, as we emerged from the two-year slump, internships were just as scarce, largely due to HMRC cracking down on unpaid internships – serving fashion publications (both the media and arts are serial offenders) with warnings of fines if they failed to pay interns the national minimum wage. 

So, where does that leave today’s budding fashion journalists? 

‘It is impossible, it literally feels like winning the lottery,” Moira Gonazález, an MA Fashion Communication student at Central Saint Martins tells me. ‘My plan was to join a team as an intern and work my way up, but it’s so difficult to start like that – maybe one person out of every 20 will reply and most of the time you don’t learn anything. I’ve ended up assisting so many stylists where I’ve just been in Ubers picking up stuff all around London. So many people still expect you to work full-time for free, which is crazy, but everybody’s willing to do it for fashion.’ 

Despite being required to complete 120 hours in the industry as part of her BA, Moira was the only person on her course who was successful in doing so. ‘The teachers said that if you worked on shoots for uni that it would count towards the hours, so there was no motivation to go out and get the experience,’ she says. ‘The process can also be so long, it took four months to get to the interview stage for an internship at Burberry. How can you survive living in London as a 20-year-old and pay rent if you have to wait for four months to get an answer? It’s impossible unless you’re privileged enough not to worry about money.’

To see for myself, I looked into fashion editorial internships in London to see what was currently available. Unsurprisingly, I failed to find a single placement to apply for and advice offered by the Business of Fashion overlooked the obvious, that no amount of experience or tenacity can help secure an internship if there aren’t any available to begin with. Reaching out to all the editors I knew, the results were marginally better with month-long placements available for university students only at 10 and the Evening Standard. The majority – including Elle, Wallpaper*, GQ, The Face, and Perfect – responded with a resounding no, with Vice allegedly going as far as implementing a company-wide ban on all internships. 

Of the paid internships the government were hoping would become available, only Dazed and British Vogue currently offer them – both six months, full-time, and paid the London Living Wage – though at the time, the vacancies were filled. ‘I remember when British Vogue posted the internship on LinkedIn and after two days they already had 500 applicants,’ Moira says. ‘When I later saw who got the internship, she had worked at two banks previously, studied politics, and was 25 or 26 so had a much bigger CV. How can I even compete?’ 

‘For me, I’ve always found that there was never a clear route into the industry, I didn’t have a degree and my parents aren’t creative – there’s nobody in the creative industry in my immediate family. I wasn’t getting anywhere and couldn’t get my foot in the door,’ says Louis Merrion, Dazed Digital’s inaugural paid editorial intern. ‘I had come to a point where I was looking at unpaid internships, but I’d have to work weekends to be able to afford to commute from Southend. All of sudden you’re working seven days a week and you could come out of the end of it without having gained any experience. It’s easy to see why people get so disillusioned with the system.’ 

Three months into his tenure at Dazed, Louis’ day-to-day involves tasks that you'd expect for aspiring writers: shadowing working journalists, transcribing, researching, pitching and writing their own stories. ‘It feels more like an apprenticeship than an internship because of the learning aspect of it, you’re not expected to come in and know how the industry works straight away,’ he adds.

With several bylines now under his belt, Louis is already using the opportunity to gain additional experience working alongside Dazed’s social and Studio teams, which he hopes will set him in good stead once his internship ends. ‘I couldn’t ask for a better first creative job and the experience I’ve gained is invaluable,’ he says. ‘I now feel like somebody who is actually involved in the creative industry as opposed to being a part-timer; I have the belief that I could have a career in it. It’s not as far-reaching as it seemed six months ago.’ 

It sounds too good to be true and for most it will be – the cost of paying the LLW means that spaces on such internships are currently limited to two golden tickets per year. What do you do if you're not so lucky?

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A post shared by @mentoring.matters

An alternative path into the industry – thanks, in part, to the diversity reckoning fashion faced in 2020 – are mentorships that pair beginners with working creatives for 1-2-1 support over a six-month period. 

Mentoring Matters (founded by Laura Edwards, a design director who has worked with Christopher Kane and Alexander McQueen), Room Mentoring (founded by Elle's editor-in-chief Kenya Hunt), RAISEfashion, and The Junior Network are a handful of these schemes born during the pandemic – generally aimed at aiding Black and brown creatives and those from working-class backgrounds. 

In 2021 through Mentoring Matters, Aswan Magumbe, a BA Fashion Communication student at Central Saint Martins was paired with i-D’s global editorial director Olivia Singer. ‘Mentoring was more personal, so Olivia helped me pinpoint specific things I needed help with like pitching and how to approach PRs. I also got a lot more in-depth feedback about my writing,’ she shares. Yet, even with this, Aswan admits, ‘I’m still very stuck. Mentoring is good because you have somebody to turn to, but I still don’t know how to navigate internships. I really don’t know the route to take.’ 

As a working journalist, I’d be hesitant to take on a role as a mentor for this very reason. While I could impart practical wisdom on how to be a writer, I have no means of offering advice on where to practise those skills. While well-intentioned, these mentorship schemes are guiding marginalised voices into an industry that has been reluctant to give them a seat at the table to begin with. How responsible this is without fully understanding or doing more to remove the roadblocks that sadly still exist remains to be seen.

It’s a complex issue, yet to be properly acknowledged – the disheartening reality is that many editors I spoke to weren’t aware that their publications no longer offered internship opportunities. I urge them to similarly reflect on their own arduous journeys – regardless of whether they grafted as an intern or not – and question leadership on why they aren't putting more time and resources towards supporting the talents of tomorrow. Take a chance on a new writer with no bylines, become an unofficial mentor, answer that email asking for advice – do more!

We’ve talked enough about making opportunities more readily available for those who want to pursue a career in fashion – it’s time to finally do something about it. 

[loominggaia]

Who is most artistic in FGG (Besides Lukas?)

I might have answered this question before, or maybe a similar one at one point. I can't remember, so just in case I'll answer it anyway:

Evan: There's not an artistic bone in this man's body. He draws like a 3-year-old. He sucks at making up stories. He can't cook without setting his kitchen on fire. He has no fashion sense and his house looks like it was decorated by wild animals.

Lukas: Obviously has raw talent, but also went to art school so he has high technical skill as well. He likes to paint and write poetry the most, but he has a knack for lots of other creative endeavors like sculpting, interior design, and storytelling too. Dude's just gifted in the arts.

Glenvar: He whittles animals out of wood and bone, but he does this more for religious reasons than anything. I wouldn't say Glenvar is all that "creative". He's barely literate so he can't write, and when he draws, it's usually just symbols for religious rituals. He likes to cook, though he mostly pulls from cookbooks and rarely makes up his own recipes.

Alaine: Alaine is a talented songwriter and musician. I don't imagine her being a particularly good drawer or sculptor or anything, but she seems to have a decent fashion sense at least. She's also good at making up stories on the fly.

Jeimos: Jeimos secretly writes fanfiction, but frankly, they are terrible at it. All their creativity goes into their engineering projects, that's where they shine the brightest. They can draw schematics and complicated arcane sigils, but ask them to draw a portrait of someone and you'll probably get a stick figure.

Isaac: This kid doodles. A lot. On everything. In the series he has scribbled on walls, floors, newspapers, and even on his own boots and weapons. Isaac draws stupid little pictures just to make people smile, not to make an artistic statement or anything. He's pretty good at making up stories. He has a creative spirit, but very little skill.

Linde: Linde is very artistic, and she expresses her artistry mostly through fashion. She even has a side hustle making custom clothing. She also has an interest in interior design and baking too.

Balthazaar: Balthazaar strikes me as the kind of guy who doesn't seem artistic at first, but if you asked him to draw you something, he'd doodle up a pretty decent cartoon. In one story he mentions that his father was a barber, and while Balthazaar didn't officially follow in his footsteps, he does do a surprisingly good job dressing himself and styling his long beard when he tries. I think his depression and insecurity holds him back, but with some motivation Balthazaar could be a hair stylist or something.

Skel: Skel is not a creative individual. I mean, he can come up with some pretty unique insults, but the creativity ends there...

Javaan: It seems like Javaan has a sharp fashion sense, but actually he just asks Linde what to wear every day. His creativity is expressed in the elaborate stories and lies he tells, and the get-rich-quick schemes he comes up with.

Elska: While Elska is a creative, out-of-the-box thinker, this doesn't really translate to art for her. She can't write, she's too honest and grounded in reality to make up stories, and she can only draw primitive stick figures.

Mr. Ocean: Mr. Ocean is quite artistic in a lot of mediums. Most notably music, drawing, and spellcrafting. He also seems interested in fashion, even if his attempts at dressmaking didn't go so well...

Zeffer: I think Zeffer is creative in a devious sense, like he can think of a million ways to assassinate someone and make it look like an accident. And I think he has an eye for beauty, in that he appreciates beautiful things like flowers. But he's not really "artistic" in any way.

Examining all this, I'm going to say that the most artistic Freelance Good Guys are Lukas, Linde, Mr. Ocean, and Alaine. This one really made me think and realize some interesting things about these characters, thanks for the question!

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

[like-it-share-it-love-it-buy-it]

Super cute flower beaded choker 😍 go check it out

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 20th February

You really don't get much more different than this week's songs. They're not stylistically a million miles apart - both swing-ish pop tunes - but in practice they're just aggressively different in tone. Not in a bad way, but each song is doing something very distinct within the genre niche they inhabit.

Magic Moments - Perry Como (peaked at Number 1)

Before getting going, a slight amendment: I think when I was talking about Pat Boone being grandfatherly, a week or two back, I was partly thinking of Pat, but also partly of Perry Como, that other perpetually sentimental American artist whose name starts with P. Perry's not a senior citizen by any means - he's in his mid-40s in 1958 - but he's definitely older and so the slightly mawdlin nostalgia of this song does feel a little more earned than Pat's did, a few weeks ago.

So yeah, this song. It's a surprisingly well-known song, I'd say - I didn't think I knew it, but it turns out it's the song that's used for the British adverts for Quality Street every Christmas. It's been used in a tonne of films and TV shows, too, so even if you don't think you know this song, you possibly do, or at least the chorus, as Perry warbles along gently: Magic moments, / When two hearts are caring, / Magic moments, / Memories we've been sharing.

It's cute - almost too cutesy, but there is something a bit more real and grounded in the way that Perry doesn't just wax aimlessly nostalgic. Instead, we get a whole series of actual descriptions. And I do like that the "magic moments" aren't all super perfect and romantic, that a lot of them are just these little everyday things, or even funny mishaps, the sort of thing that you can imagine becoming a family story, in the future, something you tell the kids about.

They're also fun beause they do give glimpses into 1950s romance and young people's social life, which you just know I'm a sucker for. We've got a telephone call that tied up the line for hours and hours, we've got the Saturday dance I got up the nerve / To send you some flowers. We've got a glimpse of dates at a penny arcade, hay rides, sleigh rides, watching sports matches together, and the Halloween hop when everyone came in funny disguises. It's all genuinely sweet - I really wanted to dislike this for being saccharine and twee, but the specificity and period-specific variety of date ideas just kind of charmed me, somehow.

I should admit, I am concerned about the time that the floor fell out of my car when I put the clutch down. Is that... a thing that can happen? What kind of piece of junk car was Perry driving? He's very much framing it as a funny, relatable anecdote, but I can't imagine any scenario where the whole floor falling out of your car doesn't straigt up injure you. Unless cars just could fall to bits like that in the 1950s? Alarming, in either case.

The whole song's fine, though, and has a very distinctive sound - you've got this very repetitive tune, a little bit of guitar, bass and what sounds like a bassoon, plus the occasional bit of whistling. It's perfectly engineered to sound quirky, cute and just a little bit silly. And Perry, throughout, sings like he's sitting by his fireplace reminiscing, not a trace of intensity or agitation in his voice. Just a chill wander down memory lane.

You Are My Destiny - Paul Anka (6)

And so, on the polar opposite end of the drama spectrum, we reach Paul Anka with You Are My Destiny, a song that is many things, but never subtle. I mean, you can tell that from the title, but if you didn't, the opening gives it away. You've got a big, shrill run up on violin, timpani rolling, cymbals crashing and a whole backing choir singing destiny! you're my dest-i-nyyyyyyy!

And then, a huge pause, right before Paul comes in, much slower, his voice hanging on each note desperately. He's emphasising every note on some lines, here, as he sings about how You are my destiny / You share my reverie / You are my dream come true / That's what you are. So yeah, lyrically, it's not a song afraid of going big, or slightly emo, either, as we move on to singing about how You feel my emptiness. Paul, clearly, is feeling some big feelings, clearly, wailing them into the mic like his life depends on it.

The music really rises to the occasion, here, with this gorgeous slinky arrangement. You've got a bass doubled by a bass saxophone or horn, playing this low, slinky ostinato, you've got the violins playing a similar pattern but in a much higher register, all vibrato and dramatic jumps in pitch, you've got a piano playing quiet but insistent triplets underneath, and then, offset from it all, you've got a single female backing singer doing an ethereal sort of wail that should sound silly, but really works.

The whole thing works, actually, much better than it has any right to. It's dramatically big, but there's something classy about it. The lyrics are positive, but the sound is a little bit downbeat, a little bit desperate, very emotionally-charged, a little bit dangerous, even. There's something a bit James Bond about it all. It's that kind of vibe, right? And the more I listen, the more I spot little musical moments that I really like, from the bit where the backing singers drop out, to the Big Old Ending, which feels earned here, in a way it doesn't always. Man, it's great!

I'd love to see this being used (or even covered) nowadays, because I really think you could do cool things with it. Weirdly, I can imagine a rock band like Muse, who really go all out with theatrical performances, doing a particularly good version - but perhaps that's because the melody for the opening line of it sounds a bit like the opening sung line of Supremacy, an (excellent) Muse song that coincidentally also has some serious James Bond vibes.

Both of those were pretty good, but there's only one that I'm left hankering to hear more of. So as cute as all those magic moments and cosy domesticity were, I think Paul has to take it, with his epic wailing and dramatic strings. Good stuff - highly recommended!

Favourite song of the bunch: You Are My Destiny

[minisugakoobies]

For you, mon amie 💕

For me?? Oh, you're too kind 🥰

A million flowers to the stylist for this fit. I have got to see them when they tour again! 💕

[eviesgallimaufry]

H&M Flowy Floral Green Top Puffy Sleeves

H&M Size M Shirring on back Mint green with pink and purple flowers 100% polyester with polyester lining Puffy Sleeves

[travelerbc]

Gorgeous Corset Pink Roses Ribbon Halter Top Women's Size Large - shade of soft pink with a black roses / flower pattern. hints of black ruffles on the edges. Ribbon halter tie & ribbon tie around the waist. Metal clasps down the front and 2 ribbon. Ideal for polClub, going out, festival, concerts, goth, gothic, punk rock, EDM, cosplay. Condition: Pre-Loved-like new, No Flaws Measurements: Approximately 13" armpit to armpit (adjustable with back ties) & 15" long measured from the top and bottom of the ruffle edges. #poshmark #fashion #shopping

[knuts-n-bolts]

Knuts and Bolts - Item of the Hour: Indiana Glass Blue Lotus Serving Dish Large - From: Indiana Glass - Now Only: $35

[joshuamyra]

This sweater is awesome! The blush pinks and nudes of the flowers are so pretty! Size small does fit oversized so good for M-L Black in color and oh so soft! Ptp is 26” length is 25” *All measurements are approx and not guaranteed to fit* colors may appear slightly different from screen to screen** **No Cancellations**No returns*** **Unless otherwise stated all items in my closet are gently worn or pre-loved in amazing condition, described to the very best of my ability, however I am human - things can be overlooked. I am very careful with my items and take good care of them. Any questions regarding this listing, please comment! Shipping is 1-3 days after purchasing.** #poshmark #fashion #shopping