#david tennant's floral shirt

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

An article about making contact lenses for ppl and movies! :) Look at the photo they shared! :)

[ingravinoveritas]

David looking utterly gorgeous at Wimbledon today.

[denimbex1986]

'David Tennant, 52, looked dapper in a colourful shirt to attend the after party for his new stage production of Macbeth.

David, of course, plays the title role in what is said to be William Shakespeare's darkest play.

The adaptation is directed by Max Webster, also known for Life Of Pi and Henry V.

Making sure he stood out from the crowd, David's Friday night ensemble consisted of a bold shirt, which he left unbuttoned at the top and wore with tan trousers.

The actor posed next to his co-star Cush Jambo, 38.

Cush, who plays Lady Macbeth in the psychological drama, looked the epitome of chic in a low cut floral dress, that boasted lilac lace detailing around the bust area.

She wore open toe black sandals and a dark palette of eye makeup.

Her blonde buzz cut showed off her striking features as she cosied up to the former Doctor Who star.

The Good Wife actress is a heavyweight theatre star as she previously starred in Hamlet at the Young Vic a few years back - after what she was described by the former New York Times theatre critic Ben Brantley as radiating 'that unquantifiable force of hunger, drive, talent usually called star power'.

According to the synopsis of Max Webster's Macbeth, the production is a 'spellbinding story of love and murder, the renewing power of nature, and of the internal struggles of a damaged man as he tries to control his destiny'.

TimeOut revealed that the production - which is set to continue for the whole winter season - will use binaural technology to create 'an intense and unnerving 3D sound world'.

Chatting to The Guardian, David said of his latest work: 'I thought I knew this play very well and that it was, unlike any other Shakespeare I can remember rehearsing, straightforward.

'But each time I come to a scene, it goes in a direction I wasn't expecting. It has such muscle to it, it powers along. Plot-wise, it's more front-footed than any Shakespeare play I've done.'

Talking about her character Lady Macbeth, Cush said: 'She is deeply ingrained in our culture. Everyone thinks they know who she is. Most people studied the play at school. I did – I hated it. It was so boring but that's because Shakespeare's plays aren't meant to be read, they're meant to be acted.

'People think they know Lady Macbeth as a type – the strong, controlling woman who pushed him to do it. She does things women shouldn't do. The greatest misconception is that we have stopped seeing Lady Macbeth as a human being.'

Earlier this week Doctor Who showrunner Russell T Davies has revealed that there are 'no plans' for David Tennant to return in the new series.

The actor reprised his role as the Time Lord for a trio of Specials to celebrate the BBC show's 60th Anniversary, with a twist in the third and final episode leaving The Fourteenth Doctor to embrace a new life on Earth.'

[agentnorthdakota]

Cherry, freckles, poppy, buttery, cupcake, honey, mochi, nightlight, shampoo, aphrodite, plush? (Skip any if you don't want to!)

Thank you so much Spencer!! uwu ilu friendo~ <3

cherry - what is your sexuality?

That is a very good question lol. Demi? Pan? idk I’ve been going with one or both of those lately because they feel like the closest fit. But also sexuality is fluid and confusing :p

freckles - most-worn article of clothing?

My two Critical Role t-shirts, the Mollymauk one and the Don’t Forget to Love Each Other one because there are /so few/ things you can find that have the agender flag on them! They’re usually what I wear at home, which means I wear them a lot

poppy - favorite pastel color?

Mmm a nice seafoam green like #9CF3CE, seconded by a nice lavender

buttery - favorite snack?

Does bubble tea count? :p uhh I mean BBQ chips are good, and kettlecorn, and hard candy

cupcake - are you a good cook?

I am O.K. :p I’m good at cooking pasta and stir fry. If you give me a recipe I can probably follow it okay, unless it has meat because I struggle to cook meat correctly (unless it’s in the slowcooker)

honey - favorite term of endearment?

Favourite to use is darling, seconded by sweetheart~ I would call a ton of people esp. friends darling if I knew if they were cool with it. Oh and my dear

Favourite to be called is I guess the same? Also gorgeous, but that’s more of a compliment

mochi - favorite studio ghibli film?

Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke! They live rent free in my head forever uwu Seriously they’re amazing go watch them 

nightlight - do you read before bed?

I used to read fic before bed quite often! It’s been a long time since I read actual books before bed. Now I rarely even read fic though, I’ve developed a tendency to stay up watching stuff/drawing/playing games/etc until I’m nodding off and too exhausted to stay awake, and then I just go to bed. I do miss reading fic before bed tho tbh

shampoo - favorite scent?

If I put it in terms of candles I tend to love more fruity and floral scents! But not overpoweringly so

aphrodite - favorite actress/actor?

Uhhh hmm. I mean I guess I’d say Taliesin Jaffe and Matthew Mercer, because they’re both really important role models and inspirations to me, but that’s through Critical Role and not their more traditional (voice) acting work. David Tennant is also hecking fantastic and I love him (and many other actors from Doctor Who)

plush - how many stuffed animals do you still own?

More than I know to count lol, I also have a few bins of ‘em still. I usually have 2-3 in my bedroom (I have a Terriermon plushie who is perfect for hugging), and then 10-15 that I usually have out ‘on display’ including my three most important stuffed animals from when I was a kid uwu <3

[branlovestowrite]

The Decoy Groom (3/5): A CS Fanfic

Hello lovely friends! I am sorry for the two week hiatus for this story, but life got in the way. I am happy to bring  A new update today. Hope you enjoy!

This is my CS AU loosely (very loosely) based on the movie The Decoy Bride (starring Kelly MacDonald and David Tennant; it’s super cute and highly recommended). Brennan Jones is in this story, and, as it’s a no-magic AU, Tim Omundson will be playing that role.

Title: The Decoy Groom

Rating: M It’s E now. I stumbled and fell into some smut, and there will likely be more.

Summary: After a failed turn as a musician in Los Angeles, Killian Jones has returned to his home: Storybrooke Island, a remote, tiny island off the coast of Maine. Emma Swan is a famous actress that just wants one day out of the spotlight so she can get married. Storybrooke Island, just two miles long and accessible only by ferry, seems like the answer to her prayers. But will she really be able to keep her nuptials a private affair? And can Killian find the solace he craves when there’s a world-famous actress in town?

Need to catch up? Ch1 Ch2 Also on AO3

“What the hell are you doing?” Killian asked as he stared down at Emma blocking the door. “Let me out of here, now!”

“Lower your voice!” Emma hissed. “Glass needs to think that you’re Walsh, and he never will if he hears your accent.”

“Sidney Glass just fell through an ancient window!” Killian whispered in response. “I’m sure he’s bloody and bruised all over. The last thing he’s going to think about is some damn story. Now let me through so I can help the man! I’m the only person here who knows where to go for medical care. It’s not like we have a hospital on the island!”

“No!” Emma stomped her foot and held firm. “You’re not going anywhere until we get an all clear from Elsa. You don’t know Sidney Glass like I do. His eyes and ears are always open. If he even gets wind of something fishy going on, he’s going to publish it!”

“Something fishy is going on! We’re trapped in a broom closet while a man could be bleeding out.”

“He expects me to hide when he’s around. This is normal to him.”

“Well it’s not bloody normal to me. Now, stop being a coward and move!”

“Coward? Did you just call me a coward?” Emma stepped back as far as she could and leveled him with a deadly glare. “How dare you?! I’m not a fucking coward! I have been hounded by the press my entire adult life! My personal freedoms are of no consequence to those vultures. The very fact that Sidney is here proves that!”

“Have you ever thought that you bring it upon yourself? By hiding and overreacting you make yourself a bigger target. They want to keep coming after you because they know they’ll always get a story.”

“What the fuck do you know about it? You’re a thirty something loser who lives with his father because he never bothered to get a real career. For all I know, you’re the one that called Glass in the first place!”

“You call me a loser and you insult my honor? You have some nerve, Emma Swan.”

Emma pursed her lips as she looked at him. “Well, then it’s a good thing we’re not actually getting married, considering how combative we are.”

“I wouldn’t want to be married to the likes of you anyway.”

“Nor I.”

“Good.”

“Yes, good.”

Then we’re agreed?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly the door cracked open. Emma turned Killian quickly so that his back was to the opening, pressing his body close into hers. He was overwhelmed by her scent, a soft, floral perfume that reminded him of the gardenias Angie used to grow. The swell of her breast pushed into him as his hands fell down to automatically grab onto her hips. He noted how well her body fit against his own. She looked up at him, her soft pink lips parted, and, as he got his first good look at her since that morning, his breath was taken away at how beautiful she was. He was about to lean down and capture her mouth with his own when Elsa cleared her throat.

“Hey guys,” Elsa said, “Do you want to get out of this closet?”

Emma pushed gently on his chest and Killian stepped back, still in a daze. Their eyes were locked on one another as he stepped to the side to allow her to exit first. “Thanks El,” she said, stealing one more glance at Killian before stepping out into the side of chancel. Killian followed her, peeking around the wall to see Sidney sitting in a pew, his cuts being tended to by Dr. Whale, the physician that made house calls on the island. Sidney looked up for a brief second before Killian darted back around the corner and flattened himself against the wall.

“Glass saw me.”

“What?!” Emma hissed, her voice so low as to be almost inaudible.

“I wanted to see if he was being taken care of. I just peeked around the wall…”

“Walsh! Walsh Ozman!” Sidney called out, clearly not deterred by his injuries. “How does it feel to be a married man? Any comments to share?”

“Shit shit shit shit!” Emma whispered as she bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Be calm,” Elsa said. “Sidney called him Walsh, which means the plan worked. Let’s just get you two out of here. I’ll deal with him.”

Elsa led them down a hall the led off from the Chancel in the opposite direction of the sanctuary. It was not a long journey, and the end of the hall led to a single window, slightly more modern, with the ability to open and close, but no exit doors to speak of. Emma looked back down the hall and sighed forlornly.

“We’re trapped.”

“Just… stay here,” Elsa said, her voice firm. “I’ll get rid of Sidney and let you know when the coast is clear. At least this is more spacious than the closet, right?”

Emma nodded her assent, slumping against the wall while Elsa took off back the way they came.

Killian was still cross with her for the way she’d spoken to him, but, as they stood there, he became more sympathetic to her plight. This Glass man certainly was ruthless.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, he chimed in with “Mr. Hopper was nice, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Emma replied. “That was my first time meeting him.”

“This morning? When we were getting ready?”

“No, at the ceremony. But I’d spoken to him before, and he sent me the paperwork for the license beforehand, so I’d already gotten some sense of him. He seems trustworthy, though that didn’t stop Elsa from getting him to sign an ironclad NDA.”

“He came by the room while Elsa was fitting me for the suit. Had me fill out some paperwork.”

“Wait, what?” Emma asked, her head popping up. “What paperwork?”

“It was just some basic demographic information. Where I live, where I was born, who my parents are. That sort of thing.”

“And you just filled it out, without questioning it?”

“I… just… yes. Why does it matter?”

Emma hung her head again and pinched her forehead. “I can’t fucking believe this!” she hissed. “You dumb son of a bitch!”

“More name calling? Is it my turn to call you an entitled bitch yet?” Killian bit back.

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Emma yelled, before lowering her own volume as she continued. “You are a dumbass because the paperwork you filled out was for the fucking license! If Hopper files that, then we’ll be legally married!”

__________________________________

Emma watched Killian’s face fall as he took in her words.

“Bloody hell,” he finally said. “We need to find Hopper and stop him from filing!” He turned to run down the hall before Emma grabbed the collar of his shirt and held him back.

“Stop! Sidney can’t see your face, remember?”

“As long as I’m not with you, how will he know I’m not just a friend of the groom?”

“Because that’s a one-of-a-kind suit you’re wearing. And there were no other men dressed like you during the ceremony. Sidney will figure it out. That’s what he does. You can’t risk him seeing you. I won’t let you!”

He stood and watched her for a minute before turning to look at the end of the hall they stood in. “Then I’ll go another way. Run home, change clothes, and come back. I can do that in ten, fifteen minutes tops.” He moved to the window and cracked open the latch. It took some effort, but he was able to lift it. A rusted screen stood on the other side, but he easily removed it and began climbing out.

“Hey. Wait!” Emma called as she ran to his side. He hung with one leg out the window, looking down. The church was built on a hill, so even though the window was technically on the first floor, they were looking down at a nearly ten foot drop.

Even though she’d been berating him the moment before, she was genuinely concerned for his safety. “Don’t make this jump. You could get hurt!”

“I’ll be fine, love. Islanders are made of more hearty stuff.” She watched as he swung his other leg over and plummeted to the ground. He landed awkwardly, ruining Walsh’s beautiful suit with dirt and mud, but seemed to be okay. He looked up at her and waved shortly before turning to walk away.

Emma stared out the window, inexplicably feeling as bereft as she had the night before when Walsh left. Why did she seem to have such a strong connection to Killian?

She watched him walk away for a bit longer before she heard an unmistakable voice at the other end of the hall.

“Emma!” Sidney said. She heard Elsa hot on his heels, trying to restrain the man, but he was putting up quite a fight, even in his weakened state. Emma looked over her shoulder briefly, panicked, and made an immediate decision. She climbed onto the window ledge, staring at the ground as she chanted to herself “don’t hesitate, just jump.” She took a deep breath, and leapt down to the ground.

__________________________________

Killian heard a thud and a cry from behind him and turned to see Emma struggling to stand up in the muddy patch of ground at the base of the window. Briefly, he enjoyed the sight of the woman in trouble, after the things she’d said to him, but his sense of honor quickly overrode those thoughts. He ran back to her and helped her stand up. The beautiful dress she’d had on was ruined, but otherwise she seemed unharmed.

“Glass found the hall,” she said immediately upon seeing him. She shivered in the chilly air.

Killian understood the urgency and pulled her to the side, flat against the building. “My father’s house isn’t far. Let’s get there and I can get you some dry clothes and then we can contact Elsa and figure out what to do next.”

“Okay,” she replied.

They hadn’t gone two steps before Killian turned back to her. “Take off your shoes.”

“What? No! I’m not running around barefoot!” She stood defiant for a moment, attempting to hold her ground, until it began to literally sink under her. “Okay, fine,” she conceded, reaching down to remove them.

Once they were able to move unimpeded, Killian led the way. They took a meandering path through a few thickets of trees. At times he had to carry her over especially thorny patches of ground, the irony not lost on him that he was carrying her bridal style.

They finally reached the house, after walking for twice as long as he normally would, just to avoid being followed. Killian opened the door and called out “Dad?”

There was no answer. Brennan always had some sort of background noise, from the TV or radio, so the silent house ensured Killian that his father was absent.

“Is he here?” Emma whispered.

“No, he’s out. Probably finally paying Granny an overdue visit.”

Killian led her up to his room, providing towels, a t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. He procured a fresh pair of jeans and shirt for himself and then ducked into his dad’s room to change. He changed quickly and then stood awkwardly in the hall, waiting for Emma to finish.

The door cracked open a moment later, but he saw she was still wearing the muddy wedding gown. She sheepishly looked up at him. “I need help with the buttons.”

Killian stepped into the room and sidled up to her. They held eye contact for a long moment before she turned, presenting her back. Tentatively, he began to unfasten the buttons.

Even with the added scent of earth, she still smelled amazing. He couldn’t help but graze her creamy skin with the backs of his fingers as he carefully opened the dress. Feeling brave, Killian stepped closer, leaning in so that his breath tickled to space between her neck and shoulder. Emma’s breath hitched in response. She swallowed deeply and turned her head slightly. He could see she was biting her lower lip. He felt an immediate urge to nibble it himself.

When all the buttons were done, he allowed his hands to drift back to her hips, recalling when they’d been in a similar position in the closet. “Thank you,” she finally said to break the tension, her voice so low as to be almost inaudible.

“Glad to be of service, love,” he whispered back, not moving for fear of breaking the spell.

They stayed like that for long moments, neither one willing to move to and tip the scales one way or the other.

“Killian?” she finally said, still whispering.

“Yes, love?”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

“Me too.”

They were quiet again. After another few minutes, Emma once again broke the silence.

“Killian?”

“Yes?”

“Will you kiss me?”

He exhaled a heavy breath. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She turned, threading her arms around his neck a second before he fell on her, attacking her mouth with his own. His hands traveled up from her hips to again touch her bare back, tracing featherlight touches over her spine. Emma moaned softly, spurning him on, and he felt a sudden urge to taste her in every way possible. He captured her lower lip between his own, giving it the nibble he’d been aching for earlier. When she gasped in response, he took the opportunity to glide his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her own. She surprised him then by grazing her teeth along it before softly sucking on his upper lip. He groaned in response as he felt himself harden.

__________________________________

Killian’s groan was delicious, and Emma decided then she’d do anything to make it happen again. She released his neck so she could slide off the delicate lace sleeves of her dress before stepping out of the gown and kicking it to the side. He stepped back, taking her in. Emma was sure she presented quite the picture. She wore a low-backed corset with garters at the bottom, connected to silken thigh-high stockings. The only scrap of clothing she wore over her sex was a flimsy thong which had shifted during their trek so that it now rubbed against her clit, giving just enough pressure to tease but not satisfy.

Killian huffed out a heavy sigh as his hot gaze traced her curves. “Emma, love… I need to leave this room before I lose control.”

“Maybe I want you to lose control,” she cooed in response as she reached down to unfasten her garters. After the emotional roller coaster she’d been on for the last 18 hours, it felt good to seduce a man. She felt in control, and it didn’t hurt that Killian was gorgeous. She looked up at him through her lashes while midway through her task, completely aware of how she looked with her arms pressed against the sides of the corset, fully displaying her cleavage. Once finished, she pushed the hosiery down, removing the muddy garments.

“I could really use a shower,” she moaned, stretching her arms over her head. She reached behind herself and unhooked the corset, letting it fall to the floor. She met his eyes in a challenging gaze as she stood before him wearing nothing but her thong. “Would you care to join me?”

“You’re a minx,” Killian muttered in response, trying and failing to look anywhere but her breasts. But then her nipples tightened in the cold air, drawing his gaze like magnets. “Emma… this isn’t a good idea.”

“I see the way you look at me, Killian. I know you can make me feel good. I’ve been feeling so down. Don’t I deserve to feel good now? Can you do that for me?” Okay, she knew she was laying it on thick, but Emma was fully committed to chasing her high now. She wasn’t going to give in so easily.

He looked pained in response. His erection was straining against his jeans and he looked so conflicted that she almost took pity on him. Almost. Deciding to try one last play, she turned around, reaching for the strings of her thong and sliding them over her hips and ass. Emma knew she had a good ass. She worked hard in the gym to achieve it. She bent at the waist as the thong traveled down her legs. After lingering for a moment with no response, she slowly started to stand, beginning to consider giving up her ploy. Just as she had decided it was a lost cause, she felt his hands land on her hips.

Bingo.

Killian’s hands kneaded the flesh, his breath short and uneven. He slid one palm over the firm cheeks, his fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “You bloody tease,” he growled.

Emma tried to stand, but his other hand slid up her back, staying her movement. “Not so fast, love. I’m still admiring the view.”

She flushed in response, glad he couldn’t see her face. Instead, she wiggled her hips. “You’re being the tease,” she replied. “Are you going to give me what I want?”

His palm lifted in response before landing with a thwack on the meat of her ass. She moaned in response. It had been years since anyone had been rough with her in bed, and she’d forgotten how much she liked it. “I’m not going to give you what you want.” Another thwack as he struck the other cheek. “I’m going to give you what you need.”

There was no time to respond, as his hand immediately snaked between her legs to rub at her aching clit. Emma keened at the touch. He hauled her upper body to standing, her back to his chest as he repositioned his hand and continued his assault. His other hand sought out a nipple, pinching and twisting.

“Is this what you want?” he groaned in her ear. “Is this what you were trying to get me to do, you siren?” He dipped his fingers into her channel before dragging some wetness up and increasing the pressure on her bundle of nerves.

Emma moaned and leaned her head back on his shoulder. “Oh god…”

“Just Killian, love. And you didn’t answer me. I’m not going to let you come until you do.” She whined in response, but he continued unperturbed. “Tell me, Emma. Were you trying to seduce me?”

“Yesssss…” she hissed as he slipped his fingers inside her, continuing to rub her clit with his thumb. “Oh, Killian, more please. That feels so damn good…”

“That’s the idea, love.” he suddenly released her, stepping back so that she felt empty without his body pressed into hers. She turned and looked at him. His eyes were nearly feral, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his erection was so hard it tented the front of his pants. “Look at what you do to me, Swan.”

She gave him a tiny nod as she took him in. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him, unzipping his pants.

__________________________________

Killian gaped in disbelief as Emma made quick work of his jeans and boxers, until his firm cock stood proudly between them. She wasted no time before trailing her tongue up the length of him. She gently sucked on the tip, and his head rolled back. He wrestled with the urge to let her keep going before finally making up his mind. He reached down and gently shoved on her shoulders.

She met his gaze questiongly, and he hurried to reassure her. “I believe it is I who was to make you feel good. And I intend to make good on that promise. On the bed, now.”

Emma’s smile turned sultry as she stood and sat on the bed, her legs dangling from the end. Killian silently thanked Angie for having the foresight to replace the twin XL from his youth with a queen-size mattress. He could only imagine how awkward this would be in his former bed.

He stepped over to her and pressed down on her shoulders, encouraging her to lie back, before sinking to his knees. Spreading her legs wide, he leaned in and licked a stripe from her hot center to her clit. She tasted incredible, and his eyes rolled back in ecstacy. He focused on his task, tracing the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue while he slipped one, then two fingers into her channel.

“Killian! More of that!” Emma cried as he sucked on her clit. He continued his assault, sucking and licking and pumping, using his other hand to hold her writhing hips still.

“Oh god… I’m gonna come!” Emma called out, her back bowing of the bed while her hands plunged through his hair. “Oh… oh…” she squealed twice before finally crying out as she came all over his tongue. “KILLIAN!!” He continued to lap at her sweetness until she shoved him away with her heel.

Emma leaned up on her elbows, looking at him as he continued to kneel between her legs. They were both panting for breath, neither sure what to say. Killian’s own erection lay heavy between his thighs, but he didn’t want to move from this spot. Emma Swan was a goddess, and he wanted to continue worshipping her.

A knock on his bedroom door suddenly broke the tension. “Killian?” A voice asked, turning the handle. “Are you in here?”

Killian recognized the speaker as Ruby and leapt to his feet, running to the door to block her entry. Emma jumped up from the bed, grabbing the clothes he gave her, and enclosed herself in the closet.

“Ruby,” Killian asked from behind the closed door. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dad is down at the diner visiting Granny, so I thought this was a good time to come see you.” Her voice clearly demonstrated her ire, rising in pitch as she continued to talk. “I wanted to talk more about our discussion yesterday. See if we could make something work. But it seems like you’ve already gone and found someone else!”

“Ruby, wait, let me explain…”

“Explain what?!” Ruby shocked him by throwing all her weight against the door, forcing it open and shoving him backward. She stared incredulously at the pants hovering around his knees. “Who is she?! Who the hell could you have found so fast on a two-mile long island?!”

Killian hurriedly pulled up his jeans, but before he could reply, the closet door burst open with Emma wearing the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d provided her before their interlude began.

“She was under the impression he was single!” Emma cried, her fire exceeding Ruby’s. She turned to Killian and lifted a hand, striking him across the cheek. “How dare you! You know I was left just last night by a man who was cheating on me! And you have the audacity to cheat on your girlfriend with me? You disgust me, Killian Jones!”

She made to push past him, but he held out a hand to stop her. “Emma, wait. She’s not my-”

“Oh save your fucking excuses! I don’t want to hear them!” She stormed out of the room, running down the stairs and out of the house before he could gather his wits. He turned on Ruby.

“What the bloody hell was that?!”

Ruby, in all her 21-year old wisdom, seemed thoroughly convinced she was in the right. “You have no right to talk to me that way! You lied to me!”

“I did no such thing!”

“Yes you did!” Her voice choked up as her eyes filled with tears. “You told me that you weren’t ready for a relationship! And then I come over here to find you doing… whatever you were just doing with her. What could she possibly offer you that I couldn’t?”

Killian softened, recognizing some of himself in the beautiful young woman standing before him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair in a brotherly gesture. “Ruby, love, this is not about you. You are a brilliant, gorgeous, enticing woman that anyone would be lucky to have. I should have been more forthright with you yesterday. I can’t do anything of that sort with you. I will always think of you as a little sister.”

Ruby sighed heavily in response. “Dammit, I wish you would have just said that to me yesterday.”

“You and me both, darling.”

“I suppose you should go after her. Want me to come, explain things?”

“No, but stay close in case I change my mind.”

“Who was she, anyway?”

“Would you believe me if I said Emma Swan?”

Ruby pulled back and gaped at him. “Emma Swan? Really? You were just going down on Emma Swan? You lucky dog you!”

“It’s a long story, but…” he trailed off. “Wait, why do you think I was going down on her?”

She grinned slyly. “Your face smells like pussy. Better wash it before you go find her.”

Killian grimaced. “Aye, that I will.” He turned to the door, intent on doing just that, when Ruby spoke up again.

“I guess that explains why there were all those reporters hanging around the church!”

He turned slowly to look upon her once more. “Reporters? As in multiple?”

“Yeah, there were at least 50 of them.”

“Bloody hell.”

@artistic-writer @bubblegum1425 @captainkillianswanjones  @fairytaleprincessatlast @flslp87 @gingerchangeling@hollyethecurious @hookswan25 @initiala @jonirobinson64 @kday426 @kingofmyheart14 @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @laschatzi @nerdyhuntress @nikkiemms @objectsatsleepstayatsleep @princesseslikepirates @resident-of-storybrooke @searchingwardrobes @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @snowbellewells @teamhook @thejacketandthehook @thejollyroger-writer @thislassishooked @welllpthisishappening @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @wingedlioness @withheartfulloflove @wyntereyez

[mellicose]

Strawberry Sweet

A Chris and Eva Flashback

Fandom: Chris from Learners, David Tennant

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3300

Warnings: none

Summary: Chris and Eva have been dating for over two months, but they haven’t really kissed yet. Chris finally finds his nerve while listening to a bit of Shakespeare.

She leaned into him, and slowly wrapped her arms around his waist. Her eyes were soft, sleepy, as she looked up at him.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“Oh I didn’t cook it - the benevolent ladies of the Foreign Missions League did,” he said.

She giggled. “That’s quite a name for a knitting circle,” she said, biting her lip.

His cheeks tingled with blood. His sister insisted on finally meeting Eva, but he did not expect the whole peanut gallery for dinner. Her and her church friends fired a thousand questions at her, some of them personal, but Eva dealt with it with her usual humor. She never lost her temper.

“They do other things besides eat and knit and gossip. Like plan charity events and such,” he said.

“Of course. Naturally,” she said. She tugged gently at his glasses. He pulled them off and put them in his chest pocket.

In all the time they spent together, they had not kissed yet. She tried, but he spouted what he hoped were believable reasons to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear the thought of doing it wrong - not with her.  There had only been the one girl in the States, but that was a decade ago.

They were alone in his kitchen, which still smelled sweet from the pie his sister warmed in the oven for dessert. She was long gone, but not before giving him a warning look and a sniff at the fact that Eva wasn’t leaving with her and the other ladies.

Her thigh slid against his, and he exhaled shakily. She fisted his shirt at the small of his back, then extricated herself from his arms.

“I should go,” she said, and opened the small fridge underneath his counter. “And by the way - I’m taking the rest of the pie.” She dipped her finger in the half-eaten strawberry rhubarb pie and purred as she sucked it clean. “This was so good. Top marks for sis.”

He nodded and dipped his finger in as well. Just as he was about to lick it clean, she grabbed his hand and sucked it. He made a squeaking noise as she gently bit his fingertip and winked at him.

“My pie,” she said, and walked out of the kitchen.

“Wait!” He could still feel the velvety heat of her mouth on his fingertip.

“Mmhm?” she said, turning as she grabbed her bag.

“You don’t have to go yet. We can … uhm … watch telly for a bit. Or listen to the radio - they’re playing a brilliant version of Twelfth Night at 10.”

She gave him a half-smile, then looked at her wrist watch.

“I dunno. I feel like your sister’s parked ‘round the corner, waiting for my car to pass by,” she said. “And I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“Why do you care?” he said without thinking.

“You know how I’m the oldest?” she said, putting the pie down on a table by the door.

“Yeah,” he said.

“I understand how it’s like. To be protective. To want the best for your siblings,” she said. She put her bag down as well.

“We’re all we’ve got left,” he said, and shrugged.

“What about your father?” she said, then wished she hadn’t. He stiffened.

“We don’t really talk much,” he said, but he turned and walked into the living room. It was small, but the furnishings were cozy. He sat on the flowered sofa and worried a doily. His mum loved doilies, and he didn’t have the heart to put them away yet.

She leaned against the threshold. “I’m sorry I brought him up.”

He waved his hand dismissively and patted the spot beside him. She smiled and sat down so hard he bounced beside her.

“Hey! Watch the furniture!” he said playfully, and put his arm around her.

“I’m excited. I love Viola. She’s one of my favorite Shakespeare heroines,” she said, lacing her fingers through his.

“Why?”

“Because for once, I’m not brought to tears by her plight. She’s brave, and resourceful, and brilliant, and not punished for it.”

He smiled down at her. She caressed him gently, grazing her knuckles on the five o’ clock shadow on his cheek.

“You have the most entrancing eyes,” she said breathily, tracing his eyebrow.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one who says things like that?” he said, suppressing a smile.

She put her hand on his chest. “Am I to understand that I can’t compliment you?” She furrowed her brow. “Is this some kind of sexist thing?”

“Oh no! It’s just that … you do it all the time. Graceful hands. Beautiful hair. A brilliant smile. Entrancing eyes,” he said, and exhaled. His cheeks reddened again. No woman ever spoke to him like that - not about his physical attributes. It was surreal.

She sighed. “Well, maybe you’re right. I should compliment your sweet sense of humor. Or your kindness. Or the fact that you’re insanely clever, but are too shy to crack wise.”

His face got redder. “You’re not helping.”

She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his hot cheek. She gave him butterfly kisses up his jaw.

“But I am. It’s about damn time you know how amazing you are. That is, if you don’t know already. I don’t want to assume,” she said, and kissed his temple.

“I’m not amazing,” he said. “You are, though.”

“Of course I am,” she said, winking at him. “But it’s a matter of perspective.” She looked at her watch again. He touched her cheek. “It’s almost 10, and I don’t want to miss the beginning of the play.”

He jumped up to turn on the large, old-fashioned radio by the window. She kicked off her flats. He turned it down low and sat by her.

“Perspective?”

She linked her arm in his. “Yep. I am amazing because you think me amazing. That being said, I know you’re amazing. It’s all quite scientific,” she said.

“Is it?” he said.

“Do you remember that day in the supply closet?” she said, holding his hand.

“Yeah.” He squeezed.

“You didn’t have to do that. You couldn’t just given me a pat on the shoulder and gone to your class. Just about anyone else would’ve done that, and it would’ve been enough.”

He shook his head. “Not if they looked you in the eye. At least, anyone with a heart,” he said, and wrapped his arms around her.

“That first afternoon together was honestly one of the nicest times in my life,” she said into his shoulder.

“Really?” He remembered it very well. He needed some dry erase markers. When he went into the closet she was crouched in the corner, weeping silently.

“You were so gentle with me. You - reliable as the atomic clock Chris - took off the rest of the day to drive around with me and talk, and buy me ice cream. You didn’t have to do it.”

“But I felt you needed me to do that. At least, needed someone to do it,” he said.

“And I’m so fortunate it was you,” she said, and kissed him again. Her lips lingered by his. “You have such a beautiful heart.”

“There you go again,” he said.

“Then make it even. Say something nice about me.”

“That’s easy. You’re a fantastic teacher. And you were so kind with my sister, and I know that takes patience. And you have a lovely singing voice. And your eyes shine like jewels and you smell like a flower and you’re so beautiful you make me nervous….“ He ran out of breath.

She smiled. “I smell like a flower?”

He looked down at his lap. “Yes. Like some beautiful tropical bloom. Like the orchid house in the botanical gardens in the city. Warm … and deep.”

“I smell deep?” she said, joking, but now her cheeks were warm.

“It’s a mix of things. Like a hothouse, in which you can smell both earth and flora. I like your scent, even when you’re not wearing any perfume.”

She put her hand on his cheek. Sweat dampened her fingertips. She wanted to kiss him so bad it made her dizzy.

“Chris?” He looked down at her.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“You were just kissing me,” he said.

“You said I smell good. Don’t you want to know how I taste like?” Her hand moved down to his neck, where she caressed.

“But the play’s about to start.”

“As much as I like a bit of Shakespeare, I like you much, much more,” she said. She moved closer, but made sure not to crowd him.

“Yes,” he said. Her dark eyes shimmered with that look that made him sweat. He wanted to taste her - he had wanted to for a long time. He turned, and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Eva,” he said softly. “I’m not - I don’t - It’s been a really long time since I kissed someone. You’re a-“

She pressed a silencing finger on his lips.

“I’m here. For you, and only you,” she said. “This I can promise you.”

He squeezed her shoulder, then moved her hand. “I don’t really know how.”

She smiled. “No two people know how to kiss each other in the beginning. But the fun’s in the learning.” She wiggled her brow at him. “And I want to learn you,” she said. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, which was pink and full. She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, and sighed when she felt its softness. His breath was hot on her hand.

“Me too,” he said, and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her heart beat faster. She leaned back against the sofa and finally, after two months, he kissed her. It was chaste, gentle, just his lips against hers, but still she whimpered. He pulled away, his eyes questioning.

He pulled her close, pressing his chest against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Do it again,” she said.

He gave her soft little kisses, pecks that got steadily more lingering until she kissed back, rubbing her lips against his panting mouth. His breath was so sweet, and she wanted him to part his lips just a little, just enough to softly suck his plump lower lip- He pulled back again, his breath short.

“That was nice.”

“Mmhm,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “Can you do it, just one more time?”

He hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he felt himself getting rigid with desire. Everywhere. Her mouth was still floral with rhubarb, and warm and soft in a way he had willed himself to forget from his previous kissing. It was delicious. He felt like a jack in a box, tense.

She noticed, and rubbed his arms. “It’s okay, sweetie. Let’s listen to the play.”

“If music be the food of love, play on…” a melodious male voice declared.

“That has to be one of the best openers in dramatic history,” she said.

“…give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and die. That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour,” he mouthed along with the actor.

“Impressive,” she said. They were still in each other’s arms.

“I’ll have you know that I played Sebastian in my school’s production, as well as being understudy for Orsino. I was hoping the kid who played him would get sick, but he never did.”

She pursed her lips. “You wishing someone sick? That’s not like you,” she said, tracing the shell of his ear.

“I felt guilty for it, and duly confessed my sin to mum - after the play was over. In any case, acting isn’t my thing. I tend to freeze up in front of a crowd.”

“Oh. Who played Viola?”

“A mate of mine, Cora. She was brilliant. She moved to Vietnam with her husband after we graduated - he’s in the military. I still get emails from her.”

“That’s nice,” she said, but she was distracted by his eyes. With the glow coming from the fake Tiffany lamp on the side table, they were gold on gold. She wanted another taste, but she got comfortable beside him and listened intently. He watched her. She was so lovely. Her blouse had red flowers on it, which echoed the blush on her cheeks. Her wavy hair flowed over her right shoulder, silky and heavy. He wanted to cover her with kisses, and bury his nose in her neck until the desperation that mounted in his chest subsided. She would understand, he knew. She had been so patient with him thus far, never pressuring him, but he saw the look in her eyes, sometimes, when they were alone.

Her gaze moved like electricity along his body, making his hairs stand on end. Is that how his gaze felt to her? Because sometimes, his hunger felt nearly impossible to control. He tried bravely to suppress it, but at night, when there was nothing else he could think about but her-

She bounced beside him. “Viola - or better said, Cesario!”

He smiled. “That actress is amazing. I loved her in that police drama that won all the awards,” he said. He squeezed her shoulder, but didn’t dare look at her any longer.

He felt a steadily growing heat on his face. When he looked up, she was staring at him.

“What is it?” she said. “Why’d you look away?”

“Mum said I should respect women, always. So does my sister.”

“And they’re right,” she said, poking at the dimple on his cheek.

“My intentions should be pure,” he said, and his mum’s voice echoed in his head as he said it.

“Of course, mostly. But not entirely.” She giggled.

“Not entirely?” He sounded weak.

“You can’t be 100% pure all the time. You’re not made of stone,” she said.

He wheezed a chuckle. “You don’t make it easy.”

“What?” she said.

“The pure intentions,” he said, blushing.

“Are you suggesting that you don’t want a completely pure and chaste relationship with me? Take me on long walks and hold hands and give each other side hugs-”

“Stop it,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“It’s not that. I know you’re kidding. But is it hard?”

“Huh?” she said.

“To be funny about it. You can have anyone you want and you’ve dated interesting men who are nothing like me…”

She put her head on his shoulder. “That’s why I care for you so much. You’re nothing like any of those men,” she said, and sighed. He put his hand on her cheek.

“Are you sure?” he said.

She sat up and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “How am I different?”

“You’re kind, and respectful, and unselfish, and you don’t pressure me-“

“But it’s not because I don’t want you,” he said. He ran his fingers through his hair. His jaw was tight. “I want you to know that. I know I seem like I might not, but I really,” he swallowed hard, “really want you.”

She was silent. He looked genuinely miserable. And she knew exactly how he felt. She wanted him since that first afternoon together. She felt ashamed to admit it, but had he been a different man, she might’ve invited him to her apartment that night, and not regretted a moment. But he was different.

And she thanked God for it.

Oh God. She hadn’t believed in his existence a year back. In fact, she secretly thought people who did were fools … but look at her now, sitting in this miraculous man’s living room, underneath a decorative wrought iron cross, sexually frustrated and joyous.

Joyous, because he wanted her. He wanted her. And although they couldn’t have each other that very moment, the promise was enough to fill her with hope. She chuckled.

“What?” he said.

“You like me,” she whispered.

“Yes. I do. I’m sorry I was so crass about it.”

“Crass? No. Desire isn’t crass. It’s the engine that fires civilization,” she said.

He pulled her closer. “You’re slightly dangerous,” he said, and kissed her temple.

“Me? No. I’ve retracted my fangs. I’m fangless, for you.”

“You don’t have to change for me,” he said, shaking his head. “And I like your fangs. They’re pretty,” he said, plucking her lip and flicking a canine. She bit his finger again. He leaned in as he pulled his finger out of her mouth, and kissed her. It was gentle, but warmer than before - this time, it was him to suck, then bite her lower lip. Her lips parted, and he flicked the tip of her tongue on her cupid’s bow, but he didn’t go further. The friction, so soft and slow, made her whimper. She froze, hoping he wouldn’t stop, but he squeezed the back of her neck and kept going, stopping only to kiss each cheek.

They kissed, with sighs and steadily intensifying caresses, until the end of the second act. When he pulled away, his eyes had that sleepy quality that let her know she had to go. He pressed his forehead against hers. She couldn’t help staring at his mouth. He was so hot and sweet, she could kiss him until daylight. Maybe, one day, she would.

“Gotta go,” she said, getting up and stretching. She ached everywhere that mattered. It made her smile.

“Don’t you want to stay till the end?” he said, holding her hand.

“With every cell in my body. And yet, I’m going,” she said, and put her shoes on. He stood up and put his hands on her hips. She rubbed her lips against his neck, which was fragrant with faded aftershave and his pheromones. Her hands turned to fists on his chest and he took her face in his hands and kissed her again, passionately. He pushed her gently against the wall and his tongue found its way into her mouth. When she arched and felt him hard against her hip, she moaned.

He stopped and took a step back. “Yeah, you should go.”

She nodded, but she was exultant. “I’m already on my way.”

She grabbed her bag, and the pie.

“I was hoping you’d forget that,” he said, his hands in his pocket to hide his condition.

“Never,” she said. “But we can share the rest at my place, tomorrow afternoon after work,” she said.

“It’s a date,” he said, and kissed her forehead. She grabbed his shirt, pulling him close.

“You know what you said earlier, about not having that much experience? You have nothing to worry about,” she said, and gave him a quick kiss. “Nothing at all.”

He blushed as he closed the door behind her.

Curious to know what happens on their wedding night? (Of course, they got married!)

Song of Solomon 

[everyatomofswift]

TAGGED!

Tagged by  @haileyahayes​

Rules: Tag 20 people you want to know better (maybe less) 

Name: Monica Jimont Nicknames: mon, ximena, moni or tomboy Star sign: Sagittarius  Height: 5′3″ Hogwarts House: Slytherin :3  Favourite colour: Blue Favourite animal: cats  Average hours of sleep:depends, usually 5 to 8... right now 8 divided every two hours... I don’t sleep well.  Favourite fictional character: I have many... Mrs. coulter, Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Sherlock and (spoiler) Eurus Holmes, Irene Adler, Donna Noble, Delphine Cornier, Lady Macbeth, James Bond, Q, etc.. Number of blankets I sleep with: Two right now... in my house 6 :)  Favourite singers/bands: The Killers, Muse, Coldplay, Spector and Madonna.  Dream trip: London or Scotland.  Dream job: Actress or astronaut.  When was this blog created: 5 years ago :/  Current number of followers: 750 hundred  When did your blog reach it’s peak: Doctor Who reblogued my shitty gifs for the 10th anniversary of the show and I reached 4000 notes. Why I created this blog: a friend told me this was cool.  Time right now: 5:27pm Last thing googled: Louise Brealy height (because I dunno how to write the height in english) Song stuck in your head: Une miss s’immisce-Exotica (really listen this shit while your airplane is taking off or when you’re drunk, or when you’re driving a bike in the middle of the night) , On ne change pas- Celine Dion.  Last movie watched: Stardust Last TV show you watched: Sherlock (yeah I saw the final problem 7 times last week)  What are you wearing right now: Long sleeve floral shirt, jeans and my underwear.  What kind of stuff do you post:random, mostly Doctor Who and Sherlock, somo politics and some series.  Do you have any other blogs: Yeah one about Marion Cotillard (I don’t use it a lot)  Do you get asks regularly: No, people never talks to me.  Why did you choose your URL: I like tenrose so.. but I want to change it to another one .-.  Gender: she/her Pokemon team: sorry I don’t play it :(  Lucky number: 10,9 and 15 Favourite Character(s): Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Eurus Holmes and Sherlock, Irene Adler and that’s it... well also Sophie from Jeux d’enfants... wait a minute that’s your question? okay if you want real ones David Tennant, Billie Piper, Marion Cotillard, Philip Pullman and Peter Capaldi 

I tag @quite-right-too @jennysintardis @dovtorwho @pillie-biper10 @jennysintardis

and if you see this do it and tag me :) 

[clumsyclifford]

The steampunk hamlet was so close to being cool but everyone was just women playing men. and looking 'androgynous' It was cool to costume design for though. I havent seen the david tennant version maybe i should hmmm. You're gonna have an amazing guitar lesson!! (I always read your tags). I will tag you in some floral shirts

yeah i bet the costume design WAS cool honestly just any shakespeare interpretation other than canon era is good to me thats why i love bbc’s much ado very sexy of them to have david tennant monologue in a superman shirt and cargo shorts while covered in white paint

thank you !! still nervous lol but time is ticking down so im trying not to fully work myself up before it. might go “practice” (play) yes thank you for reading my tags my secret conversations with everyone on here <3

[vdbstore-blog]

New Post has been published on Vintage Designer Handbags Online | Vintage Preowned Chanel Luxury Designer Brands Bags & Accessories

New Post has been published on http://vintagedesignerhandbagsonline.com/the-style-season-starts-here-everything-you-need-to-know-from-the-september-issues-fashion/

The style season starts here: everything you need to know from the September issues | Fashion

This season’s look

Saint Laurent’s £6,855 rhinestone boots. Photograph: SIPA/Rex/Shutterstock

You’re going to need a trousersuit. Think campus, not boardroom: Vogue champions the “seventies geography prof” corduroy trousersuit while Harpers is feeling the Maxmara velvet double-breasted number. “Ditch your scruffs and start dressing like the boss you’ve always wanted to be,” says Glamour. Confusingly, you’re also going to need sequins. In Love, editor Katie Grand talks up the “not been to bed yet” chic of a sparkly gown for day. Harpers, helpfully, suggests how to blend the two, teaming Saint Laurent’s £6,855 rhinestone boots with a trousersuit. Everyone agrees that warm-hued neutrals replace the cool tones of grey, navy and white: think mustard, tan, chestnut, burgundy and oxblood. The jury is out on how much flesh to show, though. Vogue celebrates the demure “full body stretch” silhouette (high-neck sweater, long skirt whose hem covers the top of your boots), but in Love, Karen Elson is naked and Alexa Chung topless. Key details on which we have consensus are: daytime shoes should have a low heel and a high front (the opposite of toe cleavage, as it were – a high neckline for your foot), while for evening it’s all about a skintight over-the-knee boot. This is essentially a silk stocking with a stiletto heel attached. Oh, and you’ll need a cardie. “Crop it, embroider it and puff the sleeves: the cardigan is back,” says Vogue.

What you would buy if you could afford it?

Miu Miu transparent PVC trench (£1,240). Photograph: REX/Shutterstock

In Vogue, the shoot styled by Kate Moss – the one with the bare bottom in it, naturally – opens with a beaded silk Chanel dress for a cool £23,330. The Miu Miu transparent PVC trench (£1,240) is everywhere, as is the Chloé red velvet dress with heart-shaped cut-out at the neckline (£1,670), but both of those will spark a thousand high-street imitations before September is out, so why not save your pennies for the Gucci AC/DC jumpsuit with tailcoat, as seen in Red (£3,650).

What you might actually buy

M&S autograph Prince of Wales check jacket, £79. Photograph: Marks and Spencer

We’ll have to wait till next month for the bargains – the October issues are traditionally the high-street showcases – but Vogue has several high-street versions of this season’s must-have Prince of Wales check blazer, of which the standout appears to be the Marks & Spencer Autograph £79 version. An H&M dark-floral chiffon blouse, £20, and the Sherpa jacket by Levi’s, £110, are also worth racing for. Red draws attention to Zara’s excellent selection of fancy new-season sock boots.

The vibe to steal for your Instagram photos

Nostalgic Americana vibe: Raf Simons for Calvin Klein. Photograph: SIPA/REX/Shutterstock

There’s a subversive-slash-nostalgic Americana thing going on in editorial right now. Vogue’s shoot styled by Kate Phelan and shot by Alasdair McLellan is all about a mug of black coffee, a slice of pie in a diner, and a rusty railway sleeper. In Love, the unsmiling straight-backed young couple posing in front of a wooden-slatted house are straight out of Grant Wood’s American Gothic. In Glamour, an outhouse workbench with a beaten-up wheelbarrow is the backdrop for cowboy boots and a bandana. It’s a bit Sissy Spacek, a bit Lana Del Rey, very Raf Simons for Calvin Klein. Channel by accessorising your new-season look with a burger and milkshake and making mocking reference to Making America Great Again in the caption.

Styling hack to steal

The white poloneck under a denim shirt or jacket, as seen on the Calvin Klein catwalk, makes three appearances in Vogue’s aforementioned Americana shoot, each time worn with the kind of sentimental gold necklace your aunt would give you for your sweet 16th birthday.

Essential cocktail party chat

Rich pickings in Harpers’ “at-home” with Samantha Cameron, which reveals that the person she most admires is Vivienne Westwood, for her “passion for campaigning”, and that David Cameron drinks tea from a mug emblazoned “Leader of the Opposition”, has an Alison Jackson print of a lookalike Tony Blair placing a bet on the election by his desk, and makes jokes about his “internationally acclaimed shed”. Also: the end of actually speaking to people and the illicit Joy of Text. “It’s OK to wait for your phone to stop ringing so you can text and ask what they wanted,” says Glamour. Discuss.

Places to be seen

Vogue tips artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. Photograph: Jean-Michel Basquiat/Barbican

Vogue tips the upcoming Basquiat show at the Barbican. For holidays, Harpers waxes lyrical about Colombia’s “cloud forests and technicolour one-horse towns”. Red roadtests new Manhattan phenomenon, the “Cave Day” productivity retreat. Millennials pay to surrender their phones and spend a day in white-noise, in order to learn to get stuff done rather than faff about on the internet. “Meredith Gray, founder of a quinoa snack company, is hoping to complete some financial spreadsheets.”

Celebrities to try to make friends with

Nicole Kidman: that Love cover in the red swimsuit has set the Kidmannaissance to red-hot.

What to eat

No avocado on toast to be seen. Harpers has reports from summer’s canape front line, with tales of smoked salmon on rye at the Serpentine and “a two metre long prawn-shaped ice sculpture dripping in crab claws” at the Royal Academy. “The answer to still or sparkling is now, ‘tap’,” says Glamour.

Should you cut your hair off?

Probably. Kristen Stewart’s blond crop on Harpers is epic, while Stella Tennant flies the flag for short hair on the front of Vogue. Inside Vogue, everyone from Adwoa Aboah to Cressida Dick is showing off short locks.

Vocab to drop

Valentino’s dusty-lavender-pink. Photograph: Jonas Gustavsson/Sipa/PA

The prefix “super” is replaced by the suffix “AF” (as in “as fuck”). Feisty! So, instead of being “super excited” about cocktails, you must now be “excited AF”. Update your WhatsApp chats accordingly. Runner-up new colour of the season comes from Vogue, where the dusty-lavender-pink of Valentino’s long dress (look 12, fact fans) is dubbed “amaranth”. But in pole position, we have “cactus”, the shade of limited-edition luggage by Rashida Jones for Away, as seen in Glamour.

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[ingravinoveritas]

Where can I watch staged 3??

Hi, Anon! If anyone is looking for a link to watch Staged 3, please send me a DM, as I’d prefer not to share the link right on my blog. Thank you! 💗

(Screenshot of David in a fucking kimono to thank you for your time...)

[ingravinoveritas]

David in that dance video and the new photos that GT just posted, my goodness he's so pretty. Also legs for days!

Oh, yes, those legs. So much to talk about with the new video and pictures. I’ll put up the visual here, for folks who haven’t seen them yet:

He looks a bit tired in the first and last pictures (which will happen with jet lag), but still so beautiful. I don’t know if it’s the trousers or what, but his legs look endlessly long here...especially in the second picture, where David is rather shamelessly spreading his legs wide. The trousers are spectacularly tailored to his body and we can all be very, very grateful for that.

What I really need to talk about, though, is that shirt. It’s flamboyant and ridiculous--which also sums up the dance he did in it--yet somehow works on him (as is the case with all of David’s shirts). I did a bit of digging, and the shirt is (of course) Paul Smith...but what is slowly killing me is this bit of information on the PS site about the fit of the shirt. It’s called--and I swear I am not making this up--the Soho-Fit:

Like, I was already getting major Crowley vibes from the glasses and the entire ensemble overall, but good god. I know everything doesn’t always come back to Good Omens, but it just feels like way too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence--if that makes any sense. (Not to mention what the area of Soho in London is very specifically known for, and I’m...that thing I’ve said before about David speaking volumes and telling us who he is without saying a word? THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE IS THAT THING.)

Anyway, yes, if anyone needs me, I’ll just be over here staring at these pictures and analyzing the multiple layers of meaning to all this. Wow...