#devante young

[kumkaniudaku]

101

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.5k

MASTERLIST

"So…you come here often?" 

In a crowded bar tucked into a rapidly changing side of town, Asia sat perched on a barstool, listening to yet another potential suitor court her uninterested best friend. They always approached with unearned confidence, dropping some variation of the same tired lines only to be tossed back into a sea of misfit boy toys to make room for the next poor, unfortunate soul. 

Sabrina loved the attention, though. At a statuesque 5 '10", she didn't mind being worshipped like Aphrodite and choosing her favorite from the litter until she was bored and ready for the next man up. Asia loved it, too. Watching men fall all over themselves in a way they'd never done for her was weirdly empowering. She didn't get to take home any of the night's trophies, but she did get to listen to the stories of every Tom, Dick, and Devante that passed in and out of her friend's life. 

Barely interested, Sabrina sipped through a tiny black straw and regarded her latest contestant with tipsy indifference. "Not really. Why?" 

"Uh…I don't know. Just, uh, just wondering?" 

"Mhm. I'm drinking tequila." A loud slurp from liquid long evaporated from scratched glass filled with more ice than anything else brought the young man's attention to her hands and then back to her face. She offered him her best sweet smile and proposed, "Get me another?" 

Asia had never seen a man getting absolutely nothing in return move so fast to wedge himself between a handful of patrons vying for the bartender's attention. 

Sabrina let off a cackle loud enough to eclipse various pockets of chatter and music as she elbowed a laughing Asia. "That's, what, three for you tonight?" Asia asked, still swirling around the pity Jack and Coke she was gifted an hour ago. "One more, and you might get the record." 

"Girl, I'm not drinking that shit. I'm supposed to be meeting Eric later tonight, and I can't be drunk like I was last time. It's been a month, and I need that." 

"He's back from Portugal?" 

"Fuckin' finally," Sabrina gushed. "I don't mean to be a 'my man, my man, my man' ass bitch about a nigga that is not my man, but…" 

Sabrina didn't need to finish. Four years of their on-off whatever the fuck had been as much a part of Asia's life as it was Sabrina's. She'd been there for all the dates, all the late-night phone calls that pulled her friend away from plans, every blow-up and breakup, and the eventual reconciliation that would, once again, leave her as a lonely party of one. Unfortunately, she never got any of the fabled mind-blowing sex that came from their strange arrangement. Only the stories and the occasional video if Sabrina was feeling spicy. 

Asia downed the rest of her drink along with the jealousy brewing in her chest and slid the glass across the bar for someone to collect later. "Well, hey, as long as you're happy." Happy was relative. She really wanted to say as long as you're willing to keep your business out of my bubble, but swallowed the thought before it could breach her lips. "Should I keep my phone off DND just in case?" 

No immediate answer made Asia pause her casual scan of the room to look over at Sabrina, who'd all but buried her nose into her cell phone to grin at whatever was keeping her preoccupied. 

She called out to her friend again. "Sabrina!"

"Huh," she sputtered out, snapping from her Eric-mania. "N-no, I should be good. We're on good terms. Or I'll just go to my sister's house. Did I tell you she moved? Oh, shit. Let me take this."

Sabrina didn't leave much time for objection, though Asia couldn't say she would offer any if given the chance. She was used to flying solo. She liked moving around the city as a lone wolf, looking for any cocktail lounge or off-the-beaten-path late-night spot to slink into and observe the happenings of 20 and 30-somethings looking for something or someone to get into before trudging home when daylight came back around. 

The night was still young enough to hit up a cigar bar her old work friend Marcus had told her about. She didn't smoke, but the brown liquor was always smooth, and their food wasn't half bad. 

While she sat trying to get the bartender's attention to close her tab, a presence at her side made themselves known with an accidental shove that nearly knocked her off balance. 

"Gahdamn," she hollered, gripping the bar top for dear life to avoid starting a dangerous domino effect. Her mind didn't register the frantic apology from her newest enemy or the way he grabbed her waist to return her to a steady state. All she saw was his smile's familiar, gorgeous gleam when he realized who he'd bumped into just as his night was beginning and hers was coming to a close. "Kelvin?"

He slowly let go of her body and tried to appear taller than he was. "Good, I'm glad you noticed. Thought you might beat my ass. I know how you get down." 

"I still should. What the hell are you doin' in here, and did they card you at the door?" 

"Ha-ha. I'm a grown-ass man. Don't let the stature fool you." His fake laugh gave way to a real one shared between coworkers who cared enough about their jobs not to get fired but never enough for rapid advancement. 

Life as a creative in a city where just about everyone was a "creative" had a way of uniting strangers from all walks of life. When Asia stepped into her new agency searching for exciting new clients and an actual team of people to see in the office a few times a week, she didn't expect to be accosted by the bright-eyed Associate Creative Director who had no business fraternizing with the project management team. But there Kelvin was, half-sitting on her desk with his Nike-clad foot swinging while he rattled off lunch spots within walking distance for them to check out once she was done with her first meeting with HR. 

"You always this chatty," She asked while trying to make sense of her new Macbook. 

Kelvin sported a mischievous smile. "Only with the other Black folks. We gotta stick together. There ain't but six of us, and two of them are married." 

He quickly grew into one of her favorite people to see during the week while they worked side-by-side to meet deadlines and ward off culturally insensitive questions from well-meaning white folks trying to sell products to urban communities. She'd seen him be gregarious during long nights in the office filled with thumbtacks and beer from the bar cart. She'd also sat with him on Teams calls, saying nothing for some of the day while he quietly worked through lines to inspire consumers to do what they did best. 

But she'd never seen him outside the strict confines of work culture. In public, they were free to cross the lines of office politics and show their true selves. Asia's true self included a departure from relaxed trousers and professional shoes to make way for short shorts and sky-high heels that accentuated a figure Kelvin couldn't help but notice. 

His eyes slowly swept over her body while he finished his thought. "I'm in here because my boy just got his heart broken and needed some comfort. What you doin' in here? I ain't know Asia knew how to have fun!" 

"Nah, I can have fun. I just don't like y'all like that." 

"That is abundantly clear," he laughed. "You haven't had lunch with me in like two weeks. We got a problem?" 

Asia chuckled at him, trying to press her while she pulled cash out of her purse to pay the bartender. "I knew you missed me. I've been busy. Kam's been on my ass about the Moet timelines, and I'm trying to slim down a little bit for my birthday trip anyway. I can't keep eating smash burgers with you three times a week." Kelvin listened as he lazily pushed her hand away as soon as he could reach it and replaced her payment method with his. 

He lightly bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to look down at her legs again. "You definitely doin' that," he complimented, a flirtatious lilt thick in his delivery. "Make it up to me tonight." 

"How?" 

"Kick it with us. We won't be out that long." Kelvin used his head to gesture toward a table to people Asia assumed to be his friends. Two girls and three guys, leaving her to make the group even. He caught her trepidation and stepped a little closer so that she could see his face clearly under blinking strobe lights. "I got you. We can leave at any time if you want. Drinks on me."

Asia rolled her eyes. "I'm not askin' you to do that." 

"You don't need to. I aim to please, love. C'mon."

Part of her wanted to refuse his invitation and use Sabrina as her scapegoat. After all, she did step out as one half of a pair. 

Then, the other part directed her attention to the tall woman conspicuously making her way to the front entrance, her phone pressed to her ear, and an Uber waiting as her chariot to carry her away from the ball and to a man too shady to ever be a prince. 

Kelvin stood awaiting her answer, his eyebrows doing a bit of a cha-cha as he made them wiggle. 

Fuck it. "Alright. Start with a lemon drop, and make sure to introduce me as your favorite coworker. Really do your big one."

"Still demanding outside of the office. I like that." He bit his lip again, this time checking her out without shame. When she returned his brazen act with one of her own, he chuckled and flagged down someone who could really get the night going. "Aye, my man! Let me get something for my favorite coworker."

By the time he'd ushered her over to his group of way too cool art friends, Kelvin had dropped the coworker portion of Asia's title and shortened it to "my favorite."

They all sat huddled at a small booth in the back of the bar, nearly stacked on top of each other. It was Kelvin's idea for her to sit sandwiched between him and his homeboy, all but forcing her against his warm chest for any chance at comfort. It was his idea for the group to continue their conversation about sex and relationships even though it had fizzled to focus on a Black sitcom hierarchy debate. And it was absolutely his idea for him and Asia to hang back together once the other members of the group had set off to find comfort as pairs for the night. 

She could only take credit for dropping the frills in their cocktails and settling for straight shots of her good friend, vodka. 

Kelvin tossed back shot number he didn't know and let his mouth curl into a devious smirk while he watched Asia reapply clear lip gloss that caught the light just right. "You use dating apps, or you more of an organic meet-up type of lady?"

"I have profiles, but I can't tell you the last time I used one. And nobody is checking for me outside." Asia laughed quietly at the idea of someone approaching her for any reason other than asking for directions. 

"What's so funny?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. That you think people are interested in me to the point that they're swiping right of whatever the fuck."

"So you just be on there for fun? Nothing is happening?" He scoffed to himself and plucked a lukewarm fry from a basket in front of him. "You're at least hooking up."

"I've never hooked up in my life."

Asia tried to rush past her drunk confession, tried to push away the words just as quickly as they'd entered the atmosphere, but Kelvin had already heard them. 

He nodded, mostly to himself, then shrugged. "That's okay. Nothin' wrong with it. You waiting for marriage?" 

"Fuck no," she scoffed. "I'm just waiting for someone nice enough to not make it weird. It's embarrassing enough being 30 and a virgin. Not really trying to make it weird by discussing it over appetizers."

"Like we doin' now?" 

Asia laughed and finally took her shot while Kelvin watched her with the sheen of drunk thoughts clouding his eyes. He brushed her hair over her shoulder softly, his fingers lingering on her collarbone for a few seconds before he threw his arm over the top of the booth's seat and scooched lower, settling into a comfortable manspread.  

"This is different. You're easy to talk to and not being creepy about it." 

He nodded in understanding. "So somebody nice. What else?"

"I don't know. Somebody willing to teach and be patient. I'm a quick study. I just need the opportunity to learn somewhere safe." Vulnerability shared with a man she only kind of knew personally made Asia shrink in embarrassment as she rushed to clean up her verbal mess. "That's stupid to want, though. Nobody's trynna teach a grown woman how to fuck. I'm cool with missing out."

She'd started to try to cover her tracks so much that she didn't hear when Kelvin spoke back to her until the last words had tumbled from his lips in a broken sentence. 

She doubled back. "Wait. What did you say?"

"I said I'll do it. I'll teach you."

"Teach me what?"

"How to fuck," he said so matter of fact that he sounded like he was talking about his grocery list or errands to run and not having sex. He continued despite the clear look of shock on Asia's face. "Only if you want me to. I'm cool either way."

"I-I mean…I don't…if you want. Maybe we shouldn't –."

He cut in and pointed at her shot glass. "You done or want another one?" Asia sputtered out that she'd had all she could drink in one night, and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket to pluck a credit card from his wallet's inventory. He tapped her hip to silently tell her to let him out, and she followed directions blindly for a reason she couldn't explain. Once he was standing, he looked down at her with a soft smile and kind eyes. "Just think about it and let me know. No pressure."

Asia didn't know what made her text Kelvin after work the following Thursday evening. All she knew was that he told her that his Friday was booked, but Saturday was all hers. 

They agreed on him stopping by at 8:30 p.m., after anybody planning to go out had started their dressing routines and those intent on staying in had wrapped up any reason to leave the house and turned in for the evening. In her mind, that ensured none of her neighbors would see her bringing in a man clearly there for a singular purpose. 

His prompt knock on her apartment door scared her even though she was the one who told him how to access guest parking, gave him a visitor's code, and told him her apartment number. 

Wiping her sweating palms on her pajama shorts, she padded toward the door and took a deep breath before pulling it open. 

He smirked when she came into view. "On the first knock? That's hospitable."

"Shut up," she admonished, though the joke had done its intended job and chipped away at building nerves. "And take off your shoes. There's fresh slippers in the basket if you need 'em."

Kelvin took Asia turning her back to him as an invitation to enter her apartment and to take a gander at the space he'd partially seen in meetings and their solo "work sessions." 

Despite not being a hands-on creative, he could tell she had an appreciation for art. Reyna Noriega art prints and classic hip-hop album covers formed a gallery wall over her couch. A display of CDs that he had no idea people still collected sat stacked by a vintage boombox he was sure cost her a pretty penny. Potted monsteras and a well-loved fiddle leaf fig took up space beside a large window overlooking a bustling street below. It was clear she loved color from the maroon sectional in her quaint living room and the complementary pillows crowded in the corner he usually saw her sit in. He immediately recognized her desk and the lit 'on air' wall sign above it, making him feel like he knew something about her with the present situation carrying the kind of nervousness and uncertainty that typically came with first dates. 

This wasn't a date, though. This was business—an agreement—a short-term arrangement for long-term success. 

Asia cracked the seal on a fresh bottle of water before sliding it across the island to Kelvin, who took a generous sip from his spot in one of her barstools. She watched him intently as she stood on the other side, waiting for less abrupt words to populate her mind. They never came, and she couldn't stand the wait any longer. 

She ran her hand up the back of her head to adjust flyaways beneath her fresh bun before speaking. "We should discuss a few ground rules…if that's cool." 

"It's your world," he laughed. "I'm just here to help. By all means, go ahead."

Asia took a deep breath and then reached for her phone to navigate to the unnecessarily detailed note she spent the previous night typing out. "Okay. To start, I need to see your most recent test results, and they can't be older than three months from today's date." 

"Cool," Kelvin shrugged, tapping at his phone screen before placing it back on the counter. "Those are from, like, two months ago. I can get you something more recent if that isn't enough."

A soft buzz in her hand signaled the delivery of his test results neatly packed in a PDF sent via iMessage, making her swallow a lump in her throat. Things were getting too real. She continued. "I'll…give those a look," she started, semi-impressed that he was keeping up with his health in that manner. "Next, no bondage or sub/dom play. I'm not into it. I haven't tried it, but I just know I'm not."

"Me neither. What's the next one?"

"We gotta use protection every time." 

"Copy." 

"No staying the night." 

"I don't like it over here that much anyway."

Amusement tugged at Kelvin's lips while he watched her scroll further down her list. Deep brown skin. She had narrow hips that almost duped you into thinking there was no ass behind her. Strong thighs. A beautiful smile. A good head on her shoulders. Perfect lips. Pretty —

Kelvin blinked back into the present when he heard his name called. "Say that again. My fault."

Asia rolled her eyes and spoke a little louder. "We can't change our behavior at work. No one can know about this."

"Bet." He was so nonchalant all the time, so unbothered by the circumstances no matter the topic at hand. Deadlines didn't matter. Client gripes and regroup after regroup did little to deter him. He'd always shrug his shoulders under one of his many distressed hoodies and proceed unphased. Kelvin took another sip of water before answering the question he sensed in Asia's eyes. "I'm rolling off of the only work we share anyway, so we won't interact that much."

"Woah, how come?" Asia caught her reaction and tried to dial her sadness back a bit. "I mean, you're… you're not leaving, right?"

Kelvin flashed a toothy grin while adjusting the blue velour durag tied tight on his head. "Nah, I'm still around for now. I raised my hand to take on some pitch work for a challenge. I'm bored." He paused to turn his lips up in an accusatory pout. "You gon' miss me, huh?"

"Stop trying to distract me. Which brings me to my next rule: no kissing during sessions or otherwise. Let's try to keep this as platonic as possible."

"Oh, nah." The one rule Asia assumed Kelvin would accept with no pushback was the one that gave him the most pause. He twisted his face into one of instant disapproval. "I don't have sex with people I can't kiss or hang out with. I know it's just physical, but I still need to like you as a person. Nah. We gotta kiss. Go get some food every once in a while. Something. Nah."

He was adamant and unyielding in his need for physical and emotional intimacy despite their arrangement not being one meant for the comforts of a relationship. 

Asia noted his gripe and raised a hand in surrender while she backspaced in her note. "Okay, okay. We can kiss. I'm probably not that great at it, but — "

"You don't need to worry about what you're good at with me. Nobody goes to swim lessons expected to know how to swim. I'm teaching, and you're learning. That's the point of all this."

Stunned silence dropped Asia's jaw for a half second until she had enough nerve connections in her brain to pick it up and try to salvage her image. Kelvin tried to hide his smile behind his near-empty plastic water bottle while he watched her with satisfaction dancing in his eyes.  For someone usually so poised, so sure of themselves as they moved through the tiny world that overlapped between them, Asia was flustered easily. A crack in the armor. Endearing. It made her human to Kelvin, who saw her as a mythical creature filled with unattainable magic. 

Standing, Kelvin pulled his hoodie over his head, a question muffled as he disappeared behind thick fabric. "Can I ask you some stuff, or is this more of an interview? I know I got movie star charm, but I do like a back-and-forth every once in a while. Keeps me humble." 

"Oh, brother," Asia groaned. "Ask what you gon' ask, Kelvin, before I change my mind."

A glimpse at his abdomen as his disrobing incidentally lifted the crisp white tee beneath did all the heavy lifting to stir Asia into crackling embers of desire masked by a deteriorating cool exterior. 

He caught her looking, eyes wide like deer in headlights and winked on his way to plop down on her couch. "This is niiice," he drew out, scooting deeper to get comfortable. Where you get this? Don't let me find out you've been letting me pay for lunch, and you're rich." 

"That's why I gave you a break the last few weeks. See how I look out for you." she joked, earning a dimpled smile in return. "Now, ask your question." 

Kelvin called her over with a quick tilt of his head and a disarming smile. "Come over here first." 

In her inner monologue, Asia passed the blame for her slow walk toward him to the fleeting gleam of his earrings under her bamboo floor lamp acting as a homing signal. In reality, it was simple attraction. Bare bones, uncomplicated attraction. He was boyishly handsome, the type of man you meet in college and remain "friends" with until one of you gets bored. Clean facial hair, glowing skin, straight white teeth, a sturdy hairline – all the makings of a classically fine man. What he lacked in height, he made up in personality and a beguiling genuineness. 

That's what carried her the few steps from the kitchen to Kelvin's side, her eyes low until he tugged her down into his lap. He chuckled into her ear as his soft hands rubbed a soothing path up and down her exposed thigh while he cradled her. "You ever hear your neighbors in here?"

"That was your question, Kelvin? If I can hear my neighbors? Not usually, no." 

He quietly scanned the corners of the room, nodding to himself in silent confirmation, then looked back at Asia with a lazy smile. His lips pecked at her neck before he spoke against her delicate skin. "And I wanted you to tell me about Friday. I saw you got the Hustle this week. That's big, girl. Congratulations." 

His deep mumbles vibrated across Asia's body, awakening nerve endings in places she didn't know could feel so electrified. Her legs tensed as she fought for a response. "Thank you. I…I wasn't expecting it." 

"I don't know why. You been bustin' your ass. Stayin’ late…” His voice trailed as his fingers danced across her stomach to the waistband of her shorts, hovering. Waiting. Teasing. "Comin' early. Skipping lunches. The least they could do is recognize you."

All of Asia's words came out in a needy rush of air. "Yeah, I guess so." 

"I know so." Long, deft fingers slid into Asia's shorts and over her thin underwear, looking for tension to relieve. "Tell me to stop whenever you want." Kelvin kept his lips attached her neck just as his hold on her waist tightened and her eyelids started to flutter closed. He spoke low and smooth, like warm honey. "What'd you do today?" 

A sigh and a whimper tumbled from her lips, fragmented and surprised. "I…I went to the farmer's market. The one uptown by the Whole F-foods." 

"What'd you get? More of that fruit juice you let me taste?" 

"Mhm." 

Asia had something else to say, something possibly important, had it popped up at a different time. However, the words faded into a haze of disjointed thoughts once Kelvin started making slow revolutions against her clothed center. The spot grew wetter with each pass. He listened to her try to breathe for a few seconds with the ghost of a smile on his lips while he focused on easing her into more stimulation. 

He rubbed his nose against her cheek to gently direct her to say more. "And what else? Focus on that so I can focus on you." 

Heat came first. An uncontrollable, blazing internal heat radiated from Asia's shoulders to her clenched toes. The fire inside created steam in her mind that needed a minute to clear before she could mentally wipe it away and think about the moments in her day that meant more than having her body controlled by a man who, less than a week ago, had never even seen her ankles. 

"Lunch," she panted. "I had lunch at…at a, um, a vegan spot. It was terrible. I…oh my God…I wasted my money." 

"You're vegan?" 

"No. Just…thought I'd try something different today." 

"Oh yeah?" Kelvin pulled his hands away long enough to lick the tips of his fingers before returning them further south. Slick and searching for warmth, he carefully led them into her panties for skin-to-skin contact. "You're full of surprises today, huh?"

Asia's answer became a shuddering sigh that never quite let all the air out of her lungs before she went to inhale. 

They sat like that for what felt like forever. Asia breathing in an uneven pattern, eyes closed and twitching behind crinkled lids. Kelvin slowly, deliberately circling the center of her pleasure with his nose pressed to her neck, inhaling the shea and sandalwood body wash coating her skin. Both of them caught up in the rapture of an impromptu lesson one. 

Kelvin snuck his free hand beneath Asia's shirt, caressing his way to both nipples that ached for contact. He ran his thumb across his favorite one a few times over before cupping her entire breast to gently hold it in the palm of his hand. 

"I didn't know this was the first session," Asia whispered as her body grew rigid and wetness coated her thighs, the words almost lost to the low roar of her dishwasher across the room. 

"It doesn't have to be. Consider it a chemistry test," he answered. "Wanna stop?"

Asia rushed to answer, "No! Stay right there…please."

Hearing her beg for his touch, for the feeling he was producing, sent Kelvin into a tailspin of emotions that he fought to put back into the mental box he never planned to open. But he couldn't escape the burning desire to press kisses from her shoulder to the corner of her lips. "Look at you. I think you know what you want," he commented as he increased the pace to elicit the whimper she tried to keep tucked away. "Don't be shy. Speak up." 

She couldn't. Even with the words knocking against the container of her mind like cold rainwater on a tin roof, she couldn't fight the sighs and sultry mewls taking precedence over making requests. All she could squeak out as her stomach clenched to welcome the first shocks of impending orgasm was a measly whimper.

"That's okay," he murmured. "We can work on it. Breathe deep for me." 

Or don't breathe at all. Asia's lungs chose the second option, involuntarily holding in a breath to receive the single digit tentatively plunging inside her while tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. Kelvin kissed away the initial shock until she nervously returned the affection. 

It was all too good. The taste of mint on his tongue, the feeling of his hands dragging out every sigh and sound she could concoct, the way his moans mingled with hers, how his eyes seemed to try and convey something more than the carnal situation they'd found themselves in – all too good and far exceeding expectations.

Plush lips moved against each other like seasoned lovers, syncing up without much pomp and circumstance. Asia was right. She was a quick study. She'd learned the ebbs and flows of a solid kiss in no time as she relaxed into Kelvin's touch. Nervousness had quickly dissipated into familiar passion, loosening the bolts on what they both assumed would be an awkward first encounter.

Her hips swiveled against his lap in time with each push and pull of his middle finger. She could handle more. She deserved more. 

When his ring finger joined the show, Kelvin pulled away from their lip lock to let Asia's throaty moan ping off the walls and ceiling. "There she is," he cooed against her lips. "I knew you had it in you." 

Her private time had nearly gone unrivaled until he came along. She'd mastered how to get herself off efficiently with nothing more than a little mental stimulation and time on her hands. This was different. This was exhilarating. Having praise and pleasure in equal measure scratched an itch that she'd almost believed would never be satiated. Now, she had her first taste of a drug she wasn't sure she wanted to quit. 

Kelvin's reminder to breathe echoed through Asia's mind as her body welcomed release. Waves of warmth cascaded across her limbs to match the near sob in her throat. Sweat pooled beneath her t-shirt. He kept his lips pressed to hers, creating a heady feeling that juxtaposed the pressure quaking her insides and sending her essence all over his knuckles. Her breathing all but stopped until the slow tingle of feeling returning to her toes reminded her that not only was she still alive, but her coworker still had his hands in her pants and a silly, self-satisfied grin on his lips. 

"You sound so pretty when you're not yelling at me through a screen." Kelvin pulled his fingers out of her warmth and immediately stuck them into his mouth for the taste he'd been fiending for. Asia watched him with shock and intrigue on her face as he hummed in approval at his reward for all his hard work. "And you acted like you didn’t wanna kiss but you're not bad at it. I've had way worse." 

Asia's rolling eyes matched the deadpanned response she used to hide how flustered she was. "Oh, great. I was starting to worry," she scoffed. "Get out of my house, Kelvin. I'll see you next weekend. Same time?"

A pang of disappointment hit him as she stood to scurry toward her bathroom without sparing him a second look. "We don't have to be like that," he called after her. "It's up to you, but I got a Disney bundle and Uber One until the end of the month. And you gotta eat, right?"

"I guess so," Asia answered, leaning on the frame with her arms crossed while she quietly committed the dimples in Kelvin's cheeks to memory. "Can we get something I can put hot sauce on?" 

"You want your Wednesday usual?" 

She smirked and turned her back to leave. "Don't go browsing around my Netflix messing up my recommendations and shit. Wait 'til I come back!" 

Kelvin kept his smart remark to himself and sank deeper into the couch to scroll through dinner options until he found his target. An intentional lick of his lips when he knew he was completely alone brought Asia back into the room by taste and imagination, reinvigorating a stirring below the navel that he couldn't relieve until he was in the privacy of his own thoughts. 

Adjusting himself to find relief, Kelvin released a low chuckle and licked his lips again for the thrill. 

All business and no play was boring. Next Saturday couldn't come soon enough.

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[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 49, 9 décembre 1883, Paris. Toilettes de Mme Coussinet, rue Richer, 43. Collection of the Rijksmuseum, Netherlands

Robe en moscovite gris acier, velours ciselé et soie brochée de même couleur. La jupe courte en moscovite uni, disposée en gros plis tuyaux, est garnie de quatre plis. Une écharpe en soie brochée est drapée sur le devant de la jupe et reparaît pour former le pouf par derrière. Très grand gilet Louis XV, en velours ciselé, avec jaquette Louis XV, faite en muscovite unie. Cette jaquette est largement ouverte sur le gilet. Sur le bord inférieur de celui-ci se trouve une fente dans laquelle passe l'écharpe, pour former des paniers sur les hanches et pouf derrière.

Dress in steel gray Muscovite, chiseled velvet and brocaded silk of the same color. The short skirt in plain Muscovite, arranged in large pipe pleats, is trimmed with four pleats. A brocaded silk scarf is draped over the front of the skirt and reappears to form the pouf at the back. Very large Louis XV waistcoat, in chiseled velvet, with Louis XV jacket, made of plain Muscovite. This jacket is widely open on the waistcoat. On the lower edge of the latter is a slit through which the scarf passes, to form baskets on the hips and pouf behind.

—

Toilette de jeune femme. En satin merveilleux bleu pâle uni. Jupe ronde, garnie devant en tablier de quatre larges bandes de velours grenat. Tunique à paniers sous laquelle tombe de chaque côté un panneau plat entouré d'une broderie représentant des roses nuancées depuis le rose pâle jusqu'au grenat. Le corsage, fait en forme de guimpe, boutonné derrière, montant, est froncé à l'encolure. Collier de velours grenat, noué sur le côté, relevant une ruche de dentelle blanche. A l'extrémité des manches, bracelets de même velours, avec nœud pareil.

Young woman's ensemble. In plain pale blue marvelous satin. Round skirt, trimmed in front in an apron with four wide bands of garnet velvet. Tunic with paniers under which falls on each side a flat panel surrounded by embroidery representing roses shaded from pale pink to garnet. The bodice, made in the shape of a wimple, buttoned behind, rising, is gathered at the neckline. Garnet velvet necklace, tied on the side, raising a ruffle of white lace. At the end of the sleeves, bracelets of the same velvet, with a similar bow.

[transparentgentlemenmarker]

Elle est là, ses cheveux longs détachés, en sous-vêtements devant la prestigieuse université islamique Azad de Téhéran, en Iran. Cette étudiante, dont l'identité est inconnue, a été interpellée samedi 2 novembre 2024 après avoir manifesté contre le harcèlement des forces de sécurité de l'établissement. 

Armin Arefi, informe qu'elle aurait été frappée �� la tête, ce qui aurait provoqué une hémorragie. 

Ahou Daryaei la jeune femme inscrite dans l'unité de Science et de Recherche de l'établissement, a été importunée parce qu'elle ne portait pas de maghnaeh, ce tissu noir couvrant la tête, le front, le menton et la poitrine, obligatoire dans les universités. D'autres médias iraniens précisent que les forces de sécurité et la milice bassidi, cette force paramilitaire composée d'hommes et de femmes placés sous le contrôle des pasdaran, lui auraient ensuite déchiré son hijab inapproprié et ses vêtements.

Ahou Daryaei, a young woman enrolled in the institution's Science and Research Unit, was harassed because she was not wearing a maghnaeh, a black cloth covering the head, forehead, chin and chest, which is mandatory in universities. Other Iranian media reports state that security forces and the Basidi militia, a paramilitary force of men and women under the control of the Revolutionary Guards, then tore off her inappropriate hijab and her clothes.

[hilziger]

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: 𝓢𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡𝓢 + 𝓢𝓐𝓘𝓝𝓣𝓢 (fucktober horror nights ft Cody Rhodes )

1:18  ───|──────── 2:53

|◁              II             ▷|

∞                 ↺

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

WARNINGS: [ sexual acts done in a church, thick black reader, sunshine x grumpy relationship trope, pet names, praise and shaming kink, slutty asf !, (sexual nun costume (?) explicit themes, degrading kink.]

Taglist[ @juceynightmare @southerngirl41 @technicallymiaa comment to be added (:] shout out to technicallymiaa cause this is inspired by a devante swing imagine she wrote which was SO MF GOOD OMFG.

❝ TAKE YOU DOWN ANOTHER LEVEL

GOT YOU DANCIN WITH THE DEVIL.❞

The streets felt like they were spinning as the young girl strolled the breezy fall sidewalk drunkenly as she finally reached the back steps of the chapel. Her feet were aching in pain and her head pounded with the pink Whitney she consumed as she leaned against the door to catch her breathe for a moment.

“ugh I wished Cody could've came with me” she pouted to herself, she went to this Halloween party alone due to this last-minute trunk or treat Cody had to host for the kids at his stepfather's Catholic church, she felt slightly upset but not for long as she had a pretty decent time at this function. She opened the back door walked inside and up three small steps before her eyes met the back of Cody's head and body seated at the piano.

The sounds of her kitten heels echoed throughout the chapel as she slowly approached him wrapping her arms around the male's slightly buffed frame. “Had fun?” he asked his eyes not coming off a program pamphlet he must have made earlier today, the women drunkenly giggled before kissing his cheek lightly, “Once the drinks started flowing yes, but it would've been so much better with you there codes” her speech was slurred before she removed herself from him placing her small purse ontop of the Grand piano.

“Well you know I have my duties here darling, I wasn't really expecting this to come up but you know my mom and how she loves throwing me into things” he took his visions off the paper for a brief second as he looked at the women he proudly called his girlfriend, she looked captivating as usual but something caused codys heart to pause. A nun costume? Your Brown luminescent skin glistened under the stage light from the cocoa butter and body lava she frequently put on.

the gown stopped just above her knees, her hair was in a slick back puff but the hood still draped her head, and lastly, her glossy, sticky black lip gloss coated her plumped lips, Cody was lost for words as Y/n went inside her mini purse to pull out a cherry jolly rancher to suck on, all he could think was sinister, wicked things he wanted to do to her in this insane costume.

A nun?

A nun?

Nun?

NUN

Nun…..?!

“Hellloooo?? Earth to Cody” She waved her hands in his face snapping him out of his mini trance, his eyes examined her briefly before arching his eyebrow. “ care to explain your outfit?” she spun and twirled lazily around him giggling before she stood in between his legs, “well I wore it as a joke for you if you would've came but you know how that ended up” she shrugged before returning over to the piano leaning against it.

Cody rolled his eyes feeling the annoyance creep into him as she continued her games with him, he knew she played too much but to this degree? Walking in here at this hour of the night mocking nuns and sisters? He wanted to be mad but his body burned and his dick swelled up at the thought of bending you over relentlessly and taking you so sinfully in the middle of the moonlit church.

“You think you’re so amusing huh?” He taunted slowly getting up and walking towards her to trap her body against the piano. Her black acrylic nails grabbed lightly at Cody’s baby pink satin tie, looking up at him both innocently yet lustfully as if she were non verbally asking to get fucked right then and there, “ shamefully I’ve sorta wanted to dress as a cute nun nothing more” a sly smirk plastered her face feeling the grip Cody had on her waist slightly get tighter, “you and your games Y/n.. if you wanted to get fucked in the chapel like a whore why didn’t you say so?”.

That statement alone forced her to pull his tie attaching her plumped lips to him, the jolly rancher swapped between the two lovers' mouths shrinking in size as they passionately made out. Cody hungrily and desperately bit on her bottom lip as he slithered his palm to her throat gripping her gently before pulling away.

His blue orbs scanned her before ripping the black lace off her dripping arousal, Y/n's cheeks burned with cynosure as she was left exposed to Cody, the sounds of him unbuckling his pants burned her with anticipation as he hiked her body up while he pumped his length in his hand. the evident veins popping as she turned her head away being forced to look at him as his hand held her chin. “ don't worry you'll get what you want in just a minute bunny” his tip graced your tight pink opening, your wetness instantly coating Cody’s tip as she softly moaned at the teasing before without warning shoving all of his 8 inches into her tight arousal.

She gasped as she watched him loosen his tie taking it off, a evil smirk graced Cody’s lips fully bottoming into her womb hearing a relaxed groan from him . “ look at you, already pathetic for me, you stupid little nun”. THRUST, Cody slammed his hips into yours after that statement, your eyes big as saucers trying to hold on as Cody thrusted hardly into you again getting a quick porn like moan out of you.

“Codes wait-“ he wasted no time thrusting against Y/n once more, before smashing his lips onto hers and beginning to rhythmically thrust into you getting nothing but loud exotic moans, Cody smiled against his lover's lips moaning sounds of his own trailing his hand up her costume more pulling out her breasts as he fondled with her right nipple.

“You're taking me so good bunny.. Fuck you're so tight” he gritted through his teeth, all you could do was breathlessly whimper and moan under Cody's Sinful punishing, her black lip gloss was now smeared across her lips as she watched him slowly place his tie around her neck, pulling it down to slowly tighten it to produce a comforting choking sensation. “ f-fuck.. Cody please” you whimpered before he wrapped the satin around his fist bringing your small head up by pulling it.

His eyes looked dark as if Cody wasn't in his body anymore, Y/n gulped as she looked him dead in his eyes, her puffy lips pouted as he slowed his strokes down smirking down at her, “What's the matter baby? Im going too slow for your liking? My slut wants to be fucked harder?” the feeling of his dick began to speed up in strokes, and she whimpered rolling her eyes slightly biting her bottom lip.

“S-Shit..! You fuck me so good Cody!” she moaned out taking his now strong-hitting strokes as he continuously hit her G-spot, her mascara ran down her face, her hood was now off, and her edges slightly rising up as Cody fucked her into overstimulation. Cody’s thrust started to pick up sloppily, digging himself as deep as he could watching her stomach begin to bulge out as he dummy fucked her on top of the piano.

“my pretty bunny.. F-fuck you're gonna make me cum” Her walls clenched down on him gradually as she was close to her peak as well, squeals and begs escaped from her as if felt Cody was fucking all the sins out of her viscously, and her tears streamed down her face in pain and pleasure, finally screaming out in a gut-busting orgasm.

“Fuck im cumming! Oh yes, Cody!!” a series of screams and praises emitted from her as her squirt shot out of her like a water gun, it hit Cody on the chest soaking herself and him up.

A door opened from the front of the chapel revealing what seemed to be the Priest, Cody’s stepfather, “ Hey Codes I been looking for-” you moaned loudly before Cody sloppily kissed your lips, your eyes made contact with the Priest having a naughty smirk on your face pulling away from Cody.

“Why hello Father”

[britpop-band-shite]

CURRENT EVENT

Best britpop person, matchups will be randomised, fairly self explanatory. Submit musicians not bands (ie submit Damon Albarn not Blur). Feel free to judge based off whatever you like. Other poll submissions still open

HOW POLL SUBMISSIONS WORK

literally just send an ask and I’ll make it! You can do a poll on artists, songs, or albums. I am widening the scope of genres, while this blog is focused on britpop I don’t mind if other 90s bands or adjacent artists crop up.

PREVIOUS TOURNEY WINNERS AND INFO BELOW

1st: Blur

2nd: Manic Street Preachers

3rd: Suede

❌ELIMINATED ARTISTS❌

the artist they lost too will be in brackets

Teenage Fanclub (Round 1: Echobelly)

Rialto (Round 1: S*M*A*S*H)

Space (Round 1: Stereophonics)

Gorkys Zygotic Mynci (Round 1: Shampoo)

Ocean Colour Scene (Round 1: Placebo)

Reef (Round 1: Elastica)

Cecil (Round 1: Gene)

Silver Sun (Round 1: Skunk Ananise)

Bis (Round 1: Blur)

Nilon Bombers (Round 1: Powder)

Pimlico (Round 1: Northern Uproar)

60ft Dolls (Round 1: Gay Dad)

The Verve (Round 1: The Stone Roses)

Thurman (Round 1: Ash)

Oasis (Round 1: Pulp)

These Animal Men (Round 1: Salad)

The Lightning Seeds (Round 1: Ride)

Me Me Me (Round 1: Jocasta)

Mansun (Round 1: Super Furry Animals)

Heavy Stereo (Round 1: The Divine Comedy)

Bennet (Round 1: Republica)

Cast (Round 1: McAlmont & Butler)

Hefner (Round 1: The Pointy Birds)

Kula Shaker (Round 1: Manic Street Preachers)

Geneva (Round 1: Marion)

David Devant & His Spirit Wife (Round 1: The Boo Radleys)

Kenickie (Round 1: Lush)

The Seahorses (Round 1: The Bluetones)

Longpigs (Round 1: James)

Denim (Round 1: Catatonia)

Feeder (Round 1: Suede)

Saint Etienne (Round 1: The Charlatans)

Speedy (Round 1: Whiteout)

The Supernaturals (Round 1: The La’s)

Dodgy (Round 1: Sleeper)

Cornershop (Round 1: Supergrass)

Kinky Machine (Round 1: Menswe@r)

Hurricane #1 (Round 1: Shed Seven)

Babybird (Round 1: Paul Weller)

Delicatessen (Round 1: Daisy Chainsaw)

The Auteurs (Round 1: Strangelove)

Embrace (Round 1: Black Grape)

Theaudience (Round 1: Travis)

My Life Story (Round 1: The Beautiful South)

Babylon Zoo (Round 1: Edwyn Collins)

Young Offenders (Round 1: The Flamingoes)

Gene (Round 2: Ash)

The Bluetones (Round 2: The Divine Comedy)

Northern Uproar (Round 2: Strangelove)

Daisy Chainsaw (Round 2: Pulp)

Marion (Round 2: Echobelly)

Black Grape (Round 2: Blur)

Edwyn Collins (Round 2: Manic Street Preachers)

Skunk Ananise (Round 2: The Stone Roses)

The Boo Radleys (Round 2: Republica)

Salad (Round 2: The Beautiful South)

Gay Dad (Round 2: Sleeper)

The Pointy Birds (Round 2: The Flamingoes)

S*M*A*S*H (Round 2: James)

The Charlatans (Round 2: Super Furry Animals)

Menswe@r (Round 2: Elastica)

Jocasta (Round 2: Suede)

Shampoo (Round 2: Placebo)

Travis (Round 2: McAlmont & Butler)

Ride (Round 2: Catatonia)

Shed Seven (Round 2: Paul Weller)

Supergrass (Round 2: Lush)

Whiteout (Round 2: Stereophonics)

James (Round 3: Elastica)

Pulp (Round 3: Placebo)

Paul Weller (Round 3: Lush)

McAlmont & Butler (Round 3: Ash)

Echobelly (Round 3: Suede)

Republica (Round 3: Blur)

Catatonia (Round 3: Manic Street Preachers)

The Beautiful South (Round 3: Sleeper)

Strangelove (Round 3: Stereophonics)

The Divine Comedy (Round 3: Super Furry Animals)

The Flamingoes (Round 3: The Stone Roses)

Ash (Round 4: Placebo/Super Furry Animals)

The Stone Roses (Round 4: Manic Street Preachers)

Stereophonics (Round 4: Blur)

Sleeper (Round 4: Lush)

Elastica (Round 4: Suede)

Placebo (Round 5: Suede)

Lush (Round 5: Blur)

Super Furry Animals (Round 5: Manic Street Preachers)

[didierleclair]

How do we write about a unique singer like Billie Holiday? Billie Holiday was a unique singer because of her deep and trumpet-like voice. Self-taught, she started to sing in Harlem. Her friend, the sax player Lester Young, called her “Lady Day” and it stuck. A special singer who bent her phrasing and favored slow tempos.

I love many of her songs but “These foolish things” is among the top. You can add, “I’ll be seeing you” and “Lover man”. She put a stamp on these songs. She is showing her vulnerability and loneliness. A daring artist who never back down in front of a challenge. She sang “Strange fruit” a loaded song about lynching in the South, knowing very well the trouble she brought to herself. The US government targeted her for most of her career but she sang it until the end. Drug and alcohol were part of her demise. Billie Holiday won 4 Grammys posthumously. She is unforgettable.

Comment écrire à propos d’une chanteuse singulière comme Billie Holiday? Billie Holiday était unique parce qu’elle avait une voix douce qui imitait la trompette. Autodidacte, elle a commencé sa carrière à Harlem. Son ami, le saxophoniste Lester Young, l’a surnommé « Lady Day » et c’est resté. Une chanteuse originale qui allongeait les notes et préférait les morceaux lents.

J’aime plusieurs de ses chansons mais « These foolish things » est parmi mes préférées. Il faut ajouter « I’ll be seeing you » et « Lover man ». Elle a laissé sa marque sur ces chansons. Elle a montré sa vulnérabilité et sa solitude. Une artiste audacieuse qui ne reculait pas devant des défis. Elle a chanté « Strange Fruit », une chanson qui dénonçait le lynchage dans le Sud, en sachant qu’elle s’attirait des problèmes. Le gouvernement américain la harcela durant presque toute sa carrière mais elle la chanta jusqu’à la fin. La drogue et l’alcool participèrent à ses problèmes de santé. Billie Holiday a gagné 4 Grammys de façon posthume. Elle est inoubliable. Pic Pinterest. #billieholiday #jazzsinger #didierleclair

[fdelopera]

Welcome to the 39th installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.

In today’s installment, we have Part VII of Chapter 14, “La Lyre d’Apollon” (“Apollo’s Lyre”), and Part I of Chapter 15, “Un Coup de maître de l’amateur de trappes” (“A Masterstroke of the Trapdoor Lover”).

This section was first printed on Tuesday, 23 November, 1909.

For anyone following along in David Coward's translation of the First Edition of Phantom of the Opera (either in paperback, or Kindle, or from another vendor -- the ISBN-13 is: 978-0199694570), the text starts in Chapter 13 with, “'Christine,' said Raoul as he got to his feet, 'you say you love me but it was only a matter of hours after you were free again that you went back to him',” and goes to Chapter 14, “Then she rushed out in a state of near-panic, still pulling and smoothing her fingers as if she thought the ring would somehow mysteriously reappear of its own accord.”

There are some differences between the Gaulois text and the First Edition. In this section, these include (highlighted in red above):

1) Chapter XV was printed as Chapter XVI. This numbering error was made in Chapter VII, and was not corrected, so it was propagated throughout the Gaulois publication.

2) Chapter 15 in the Gaulois text is Chapter 14 in the First Edition, etc.

3) Compare the Gaulois text:

… vous dites que vous m'aimez et quelques heures à peine s'étaient écoulées depuis que vous aviez recouvé votre liberté, que déjà vous retourniez auprès d'Erik !…

Translation:

“… you say that you love me and yet scarcely a few hours had passed since you had regained your liberty, and you were already going back to Erik!…”)

To the First Edition:

… vous dites que vous m'aimez, mais quelques heures à peine s'étaient écoulées, depuis que vous aviez recouvé votre liberté, que déjà vous retourniez auprès d'Erik !…

Translation:

“… you say that you love me, but scarcely a few hours had passed since you had regained your liberty, and you were already going back to Erik!…”

4) This passage was added to the First Edition (indicated by the red arrow above), and does not appear in the Gaulois:

Soudain une silhouette bizarre se dressa devant les jeunes gens, leur barrant le chemin :

« Non ! pas par ici ! »

Et la silhouette leur indiqua un autre couloir par lequel ils devaient gagner les coulisses.

Raoul voulait s’arrêter, demander des explications.

« Allez ! allez vite !… commanda cette forme vague, dissimulée dans une sorte de houppelande et coiffée d’un bonnet pointu.*

Christine entraînait déjà Raoul, le forçait à courir encore :

« Mais qui est-ce ? Mais qui est-ce, celui-là ? » demandait le jeune homme.

Et Christine répondait :

« C’est Le Persan !…

– Qu’est-ce qu’il fait là…

– On n’en sait rien !… Il est toujours dans l’Opéra !

Translation:

Suddenly, a strange silhouette loomed before the two youths, blocking their path:

“No! Not this way!”

And the silhouette pointed to another corridor by which they must reach the wings.

Raoul wanted to stop, to ask for an explanation.

“Go! Go quickly!…” ordered this shadowy figure, enshrouded in a sort of houppelande and capped with a pointed hat.*

Christine was already dragging Raoul away, forcing him to run again:

“But who is that? Who is that man?” asked the young man.

And Christine replied:

“That is The Persian!…”

“What is he doing here?…”

“No one knows!… He is always at the Opera!”

* NOTE: Leroux's character of "The Persian" was based on an actual French historical figure, the Persian gentleman and expat, Mohammed Ismaël Khan. This image below depicts the houppelande coat and Astrakhan cap that Leroux was likely imagining when he was writing his novel.

This image is from Les Célébrités de la rue, by Charles Yriarte, published in 1864, a book that listed notable figures in Paris in the early to mid 1800s. It was published during Mohammed Ismaël Khan's lifetime, as M. Khan passed away in 1868.

It is worth noting that the Opera House that M. Khan frequented was the Salle Le Peletier, which was destroyed in a fire in 1873 (five years after M. Khan's death). Two years later in 1875, the Paris Opera was moved to the newly opened Palais Garnier (aka Erik's Opera House). So, contrary to Leroux's narrative, M. Khan never actually frequented the Palais Garnier. This is an example of faction (fact+fiction), one of Leroux's favorite literary devices, which Leroux used throughout Le Fantôme de l'Opéra to build a feeling of verisimilitude into his fictionalized narrative.

5) Compare the Gaulois text:

C'était Erik. Il avait les yeux de braise dont vous m'avez parlé. J'aurais dû le clouer sur la lyre d'Apollon…

Translation:

“That was Erik. He had the fiery eyes that you told me about. I should have nailed him to Apollo’s Lyre…”

To the First Edition:

Si vraiment nous avons aperçu Erik j'aurais dû le clouer sur la lyre d'Apollon…

Translation:

“If that truly was Erik that we saw, I should have nailed him to Apollo’s Lyre…”

6) Compare the Gaulois text (this was likely an error on Leroux’s part, since earlier, Raoul agreed to be in Christine’s dressing room at midnight sharp):

… à minuit et demi ! fit le jeune homme …

Translation:

“… at half past midnight!” said the young man …

To the First Edition:

… à minuit je serai dans votre loge, fit le jeune homme …

Translation:

“… at midnight I shall be in your dressing room,” said the young man

7) Compare the Gaulois text:

Jamais ! répondit-elle avec énergie. Je la renverrai à Erik en la déposant dans la loge du fantôme. Il faut qu'Erik puisse rentrer tranquillement chez lui le soir…

Translation:

“Never!” she replied forcefully. “I shall return it [the key] to Erik by leaving it in the Phantom’s box. Erik must be able to return calmly to his house in the evening…”

To the First Edition:

Jamais ! répondit-elle avec énergie. Ce serait une trahison !

Translation:

“Never!” she replied forcefully. “That would be a betrayal!”

8) Minor differences in punctuation.

Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 23 November, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.

[empiredesimparte]

⚜ Le Sacre de Napoléon V | N°6 | Francesim, Versailles, 27 Thermidor An 230

Napoleon V met Madame Royale de Thornolie (@theroyalthornoliachronicles) at the coronation gala. It was not the first time she had visited Francesim, but he had never spoken to her before. Curious, he was soon disillusioned by Eleanor's coldness. The young emperor hoped that he had not complicated his future diplomatic relations with the kingdom of Thornolia. He also hoped that she had not formed the wrong impression of him.

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

Some of the characters in the background belong to @officalroyalsofpierreland

⚜ Transcription

Louis: Madame Royale, are you enjoying the festivities?

Eleanor: They are certainly festive…

Louis: I'm delighted to see Thornolia is continuing its friendship with Francesim. Do give my regards to your father.

Eleanor: If only you had the opportunity to send your regards in person.

(Long Pause)

Louis: I must say you are intriguing, Madame Royale, for an ambassador. My advisors told me about you, or at least, they told me what they’ve heard of you, so much so I wanted to see if it was true. 

Eleanor: Do tell. What do your advisors deem worthy information to tell you about me?

Louis: They say you're not very talkative, to put it simply. I'd like to invite you to Compiègne one of these days so we can get to know each other better. What do you say?

Eleanor: Tell me, sire, is that all it takes for you to impose yourself on a woman? To hear they are not very talkative?

Louis: Madame, you’ve got me all wrong. I'm just... 

Eleanor: Non. I’m afraid you have me all wrong. Perhaps you shouldn’t take everything you hear to heart, particularly from people who claim their loyalties only to hide their own agendas. Then you might be able to make valid conclusions about people all on your own. In fact, shall I share what I have heard about you? Louis: I'm all ears, Madame…

Eleanor: In the public eye you are the darling boy emperor who everyone loves to praise. Not a single hair out of place, not a single event you attend favouring you negatively. 

Louis: Not an unappealing narrative…

Eleanor: Perhaps the words I’ve heard are more favourable than I lead you on to believe. 

And yet…. watching you tonight it is easy to see why anyone would be hard pressed to see behind the smoke and mirrors act you project. And that’s all you are: Smoke and mirrors. You have had everything handed to you on silver platters and fed to you with silver spoons, and therefore you have no problem believing everyone you deign to speak with will bow down to give you anything you desire. So do forgive me, sire, if I refuse to be another.

Louis: … Last I knew, we are cut from the same cloth.

(Short Pause. this is when Eleanor shows the chink in her armour at Louis’s words)

Eleanor: That may be, Louis, but not everyone cares for their cloth the same way. 

Marie-Joséphine: Your Majesty, may I join you?... Louis: Of course, Mère.

Eleanor: Bonsoir, Madame Mère. 

Marie-Joséphine: Madame Royale. It's a pleasure to meet you. 

Eleanor: Truly, the pleasure is mine. My father was adamant I passed along his regards to you.

Marie-Joséphine: Merci, it’s appreciated.Eleanor: I’m afraid you must forgive me. Despite the lovely evening put together tonight I’m feeling a bit run down and must retire. Pardonnez-moi. (curtseys) Sire, Madame Mère. (Leaves)

⚜ Traduction française

Napoléon V rencontre Madame Royale de Thornolie durant le gala du couronnement. Ce n'est pas la première fois qu'elle se rend en Francesim, mais il n'avait jamais pu s'entretenir avec elle auparavant. Curieux, il déchante bien vite devant la personnalité froide d'Eleanor. Le jeune empereur espère ne pas avoir compliqué ses prochaines relations diplomatiques avec le royaume de Thornolie. Et aussi, qu'elle se soit faite une mauvaise idée de sa personne.

Louis : Madame Royale, appréciez-vous les festivités ?

Eleanor : Elles sont certainement festives...

Louis : Je suis ravi de voir que Thornolie continue son amitié avec la Francesim. Veuillez transmettre mes salutations à votre père.

Eleanor : Si seulement vous aviez l'opportunité de les transmettre en personne.

(Longue pause)

Louis : Je dois dire que vous êtes intrigante, Madame Royale, pour une ambassadrice. Mes conseillers m'ont parlé de vous, ou du moins, ils m'ont dit ce qu'ils avaient entendu sur vous, si bien que j'ai voulu voir si c'était avéré.

Eleanor : Dites-moi donc. Qu'est-ce que vos conseillers jugent digne de vous dire à mon sujet ?

Louis : Ils disent que vous n'êtes pas très bavarde, pour faire simple. J'aimerais vous inviter à Compiègne un de ces jours pour que nous puissions mieux nous connaître. Qu'en dites-vous ?

Eleanor : Dites-moi, sire, est-ce tout ce qu'il vous faut pour vous imposer à une femme ? Entendre dire qu'elle n'est pas très bavarde ?

Louis : Madame, vous m'avez complètement mal compris. Je suis juste...

Eleanor : Non. J'ai bien peur que ce soit vous qui m'ayez mal comprise. Peut-être ne devriez-vous pas prendre à cœur tout ce que vous entendez, surtout de la part de personnes qui prétendent leur loyauté uniquement pour cacher leurs propres agendas. Alors, vous pourriez être capable de tirer des conclusions valables sur les gens par vous-même. En fait, puis-je partager ce que j'ai entendu à votre sujet ?

Louis : Je vous écoute, Madame...

Eleanor : Aux yeux du public, vous êtes le jeune empereur chéri que tout le monde aime louer. Pas un seul cheveu de travers, pas un seul événement auquel vous assistez ne vous désavantage.

Louis : Un récit pas déplaisant...

Eleanor : Peut-être que les mots que j'ai entendus sont plus favorables que je ne vous l'ai laissé croire.

Et pourtant... en vous observant ce soir, il est facile de voir pourquoi il serait difficile de percevoir ce qui se cache derrière l'acte de fumée et de miroirs que vous projetez. Et c'est tout ce que vous êtes : de la fumée et des miroirs. On vous a tout donné sur des plateaux d'argent et nourri avec des cuillères en argent, et donc vous n'avez aucun problème à croire que tous ceux à qui vous daignez parler se prosterneront pour vous donner tout ce que vous désirez. Alors pardonnez-moi, sire, si je refuse d'être une autre.

Louis : ... Pourtant, nous sommes faits de la même étoffe

(Courte pause. C'est à ce moment qu'Eleanor montre une faille dans son armure aux mots de Louis)

Eleanor : C'est peut-être vrai, Louis, mais tout le monde ne prend pas soin de leur tissu de la même manière.

Marie-Joséphine : Votre Majesté, puis-je me joindre à vous ?...

Louis : Bien sûr, Mère.

Eleanor : Bonsoir, Madame Mère.

Marie-Joséphine : Madame Royale. C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer.

Eleanor : Vraiment, le plaisir est pour moi. Mon père était catégorique pour que je vous transmette ses salutations.

Marie-Joséphine : Merci, c'est apprécié.

Eleanor : Je crains que vous deviez me pardonner. Malgré la charmante soirée organisée ce soir, je me sens un peu fatiguée et je dois me retirer. Pardonnez-moi. (révérence) Sire, Madame Mère. (S'en va)

[jesslovesboats]

Have you, like me, been personally victimized by the book The Women by Kristin Hannah?** Did you go into this book expecting to hear a story inspired by the struggles of nurses serving overseas during the Vietnam War? Were you instead subjected to a series of insipid and increasingly unrealistic romantic plotlines featuring a neverending carousel of terrible men? Do you want to learn more about the real women who served as nurses under fire in Vietnam? This post is for you!

Here are 3 books and one website that I recommend if The Women left you unsatisfied and/or wanting more:

Home Before Morning by Lynda Van Devanter. Originally published in 1983, this book is a classic for a reason, and Hannah drew heavily from it when writing The Women.

When I Die I'm Going to Heaven 'Cause I've Spent My Time in Hell by Barbara Kautz. Kautz was young- only 18!- when she joined the Army to finance her nursing education. Her book focuses less on the fighting and more on the day to day realities of life and the companionship she shared with her fellow nurses.

Healing Wounds by Diane Carlson Evans chronicles the author's time as a nurse in Vietnam, and later, her fight to establish the Vietnam Women's Memorial on the National Mall. I also highly recommend the Healing Wounds documentary and this bibliography from the VWM website.

Finally, if I can be a tiny bit self indulgent, I would not be a good reference librarian if I didn't point out that I have a local connection to Sharon Lane. Lane, who was mentioned several times in The Women, was a real nurse (from the same part of Ohio as me) who was killed in the line of duty in Vietnam. She attended the same nursing college as my mom (although a few years earlier) and was in Vietnam at the same time as my dad. You can learn about her here.

**DISCLAIMER- I did not care for this book, but taste in books is highly subjective and your mileage may vary! If you loved it, please put your energy into writing your own post instead of coming for me 🙃

[foralteregos]

part one of me explaining acm!!! mostly copy and pasted from a convo abt them loll

@aerodynamic-acephalic tagging you since you wanted it

1 - What is ACM?

acm (Alternate Connection Multiverse) is a multiverse related oc universe that i made last year i think, idk. and surprinsgly ive barely drawn it so i have no art to show </3. ive been obsessed with alternate universes since like early 2019 i guess so . yeah.

my first ever creation with acm was just a little joke fanfic i wrote for fun, which inculded identity fraud and almost murder (thanks cobalt for that incredible act 2 drama👍) lol

but even before acm was made i still like, had ideas for au crossovers and such so, i guess acms main and original purpose was that rlly.

acm is technically a canon extended version/sequel of multiple other oc universes (more specifically future's canon timeline) i have (ITS A MULTİVERSE.. OK...) and i cant stop Thinking about it.

Ok, Main characters!

2 - The Important Characters

- Future, the young timetraveller.

Future is a late college student who dropped out to mostly focus on his new career as the ceo of his stupid (/aff) multiverse company. hes very young and clueless so hes easily pushed around and sometimes manipulated by others. he invented the multiverses "first" time machine and eventually rebuilt his enemy's (otherwise known as devante) Dimension Travelling Mechanism (devante never gave it a proper name because he thought he would murder Future instantly, and DTM was a back up plan just incase Future managed to break free.) after almost being killed by it.

- Equinox, the inventor and lone creator.

Equinox is the god of the multiverse, and works alone despite the couple of other gods that wouldve loved to help him with his 'situation'.

equinox is, not social. if i can say that. and very uyuhh easily angerable. tjats all i can say abt them without diving too deep into lore

- Timekeeper, the first and original.

timekeeper has been dead for centuries. being one of thr original versions of the universes before the 'loops' had started. he was stuck alongside equinox after his universe collapsed from a incident he refers to as 'Same Date Different Incident'. in which timekeeper and future BOTH invented the time machine at the same time, thus, causing one of them to collapse. and timekeeper was the unfortunate victim of a incident equinox couldnt control. Timekeeper met Future after Future almost died in his universe.!!

timekeeper doesnt mind being dead, infact, talking and being alive is something he'd rather NOT go back to. despite equinox forcing him into it somewhere around act 6, aka the second time future broke a universe but shush

3 - The Beginning Of Chaos, And The End Of Peace

Facade and Solace were two 'accidents' that were made by equinox. originally (aka back when i first made them) they were only meant to exist to destroy acm as a whole because equinox was tired of it

((^ im still rlly proud of this GOD why did i change it))

i guess that mechanism is still canon BUT now equinox mostly made them as a way for acm and such to continue acm and so it wont end up like the original universe but it just made it worse and facade and solace were kinda leading up to the universes destruction.

- Facade/Falen (He goes by Falen in acm i just prefer to refer to him as Facade)

quit his job as a (forensic, but still can make inventions) scientist, to focus COMPLETELY on ACM (OR IN UNIVERSE-WISE ACRONYM: ABUNDANT COSMOS (OF THE) MULTIVERSE)

he only has one arm, eventually got a prosethic because cobalt bribed (aka 'make this or ill Kill you') someone in the middle field

if not obvious, hes. not a good person rlly. yeah he gets to be a better person after realizing his purpose was nothing but to continue a story that shouldve ended ALOT earlier but yeah hes still a bad person.

- Solace, (yeah thats his name ok)

Solace was unemployed for most of his life, i mean his original universe was quite literally trying to kill people like him so-

unlike falen, his way of 'manipulation and control' inculded alot more violence than actual words and forcing. solace cant make inventions like facade can so he usually resorts to getting his own hands dirty for it.

I wont explain what they did as i want to write and draw it, but it should be obvious.

AND.. THATS PART 1!!IT MAY BE A LITTLE MESSY BUT ILL GO ON INCASE ANYONE HAS QUESTIONS!!:D

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue March 1, 1954

Chanel Haute Couture Collection Spring/Summer 1954. Marie-Hélène Arnaud wears a navy blue wool jersey suit, with square, lightly padded shoulders; two patch pockets; cuffs that button and unbutton to turn over; pleated skirt on the side for easier walking; a washable white muslin blouse, cufflinks, button tabs on the skirt, front and back, a young turn-down collar and a young bow at the neck.

Chanel Collection Haute Couture Printemps/Été 1954. Marie-Hélène Arnaud porte un tailleur en jersey de laine bleu marine, aux épaules carrées, légèrement matelassées ; deux poches plaquées ; poignets qui se boutonnent et se déboutonnent pour se retourner ; jupe plissée sur le côté pour faciliter la marche ; une blouse en mousseline blanche lavable, des boutons de manchette, des pattes de boutonnage sur la jupe, devant et derrière, un col rabattu jeune et un noeud jeune au cou.

Photo Henry Clarke vogue archive

[solartale-officiel]

SolarTale Arc 1 - Chapter 1 : The human in the Underground

(English part below in the post)

Une jeune humaine tombe du mont Ebott après une querelle avec les personnes de son village, elle fait donc une sacrée chute pour atterrir au parterre de fleurs dorées, inconsciente. Après un petit moment, elle se réveille et observe les lieux. Elle ne connaissait aucunement cet endroit, ce qui la fait paniquer.

Chara : Me suis je perdue ? Ho nooon.. comment je vais faire pour retourner au village..

se demanda-t-elle déboussolée et sans moyen de rentrer. Elle se relève alors avec difficulté en se tenant la tête suite à la douleur de sa chute pour marcher et explorer les lieux. Elle traverse une salle sombre avec pour seule lumière, un faisceau lumineux qui se trouve au milieu de la salle, ce faisceau éclairait d'autres fleurs dorées. Après avoir traversé la salle jusqu'au centre, une fleur qui avait l'air animée sort des fleurs dorées.

Flowey : Howdy ! Moi c'est Flowey, Flowey la fleur ! Tu es perdue ? Je vais t'aider à rentrer chez toi !

Cette fleur s'appelle donc Flowey et semble très énergique et joyeuse, Chara qui fait la rencontre pour la première fois d'une fleur qui parle n'y croit évidemment pas, pensant que c'était juste son cerveau qui lui jouait de mauvais tours.

Chara : Bon j'ai dû perdre la boule après la chute..

Flowey se vexe rapidement suite à la réaction de Chara et rétorque

Flowey : Hé ! Non je suis bien réel et faudra t'y faire, tu veux rentrer chez toi oui ou non ?

Chara reprend alors un peu de sérieux voulant bien avoir l’aide de quelqu’un pour sortir d’ici, même si c'était celle d'une fleur.

Chara : Heu oui bien-sûr ! Moi c’est Chara.

Dit elle sans vraiment savoir comment cette fleur pourrait l'aider mais avoir un peu de compagnie ne peut pas faire de mal.

Flowey : Très bien alors en route !

La petite fleur disparaît sous terre et réapparaît en sortant du sol non bien loin, à l’intérieur d’un pot

Flowey : Transporte moi et je te guiderais à travers les ruines.

Chara se rapproche du pot contenant la fleur et le récupère, attendant les instructions de Flowey. Ils se mirent en route, après un petit moment à traverser les différentes salles des ruines et élucider les énigmes avec l’aide de Flowey et de l’esprit pratique de Chara, Chara et Flowey se retrouve devant une maison à l’air chaleureuse. Ils rentrent dedans pour remarquer qu’elle est vide. Ils visitent alors cette grande maison.

Flowey : Hé Chara ! On va se poser ici pour la nuit, tu dois être fatiguée et j’en profiterais pour t’en apprendre plus sur ces lieux

Chara : D’accord faisons ça, je t’écoute

Sentant que les explications allait être longues, Chara préfère s'asseoir sur le fauteuil du salon en posant le pot de fleur contenant Flowey sur un tabouret en face d'elle.

Flowey : Très bien, alors je vais tout d’abord te dire ce qu��est cet endroit. Ici nous somme dans l’Underground, une cavité assez grande en dessous de la montagne de laquelle tu es tombée, pour l’instant nous n’avons pas croisé beaucoup de monstres mais il y a ici des habitants très puissants

Flowey explique en détail alors la légende de la guerre des humains et des monstres ainsi que ce qu’est la garde royale et le roi et la reine de l’Underground à Chara qui écoute attentivement, elle finit par s’endormir sous les explications excessives de Flowey.

Flowey : Je n’ai pas encore vu sa magie, j’espère qu’elle est de taille à survivre ici

A young human falls from Mount Ebott after a quarrel with the people of her village, so she takes quite a fall to land in the bed of golden flowers, unconscious. After a little while, she wakes up and looks around. She didn't know anything about this place, which made her panic.

Chara : Did I get lost ? Ho nooo.. how am I going to get back to the village..

she asked herself, disoriented and without a way to get home. She then gets up with difficulty, holding her head following the pain of her fall, to walk and explore the area. She crosses a dark room with the only light, a beam of light which is in the middle of the room, this beam illuminated other golden flowers. After crossing the room to the center, a flower that looked animated comes out of the golden flowers.

Flowey : Howdy ! I'm Flowey, Flowey the flower! Are you lost ? I'll help you get home !

This flower is called Flowey and seems very energetic and joyful. Chara, who meets a talking flower for the first time, obviously doesn't believe it, thinking that it was just her brain playing tricks on her. .

Chara : Well I must have lost my mind after the fall.. Flowey quickly gets offended by Chara's reaction and retorts

Flowey: Hey! No, I'm real and you'll have to get used to it, do you want to go home yes or no? Chara then becomes a little more serious, wanting to have someone's help to get out of here, even if it was that of a flower.

Chara : Um yes of course! I'm Chara.

She said without really knowing how this flower could help her but having a little company couldn't hurt.

Flowey : Alright then, let's go!

The little flower disappears underground and reappears coming out of the ground not far away, inside a pot

Flowey : Transport me and I'll guide you through the ruins.

Chara approaches the pot containing the flower and retrieves it, waiting for Flowey's instructions. They set off, after a little while crossing the different rooms of the ruins and solving the puzzles with the help of Flowey and the practical mind of Chara, Chara and Flowey find themselves in front of a warm-looking house. They go inside to notice that it is empty. They then visit this big house.

Flowey : Hey Chara! We're going to stay here for the night, you must be tired and I would take the opportunity to teach you more about these places Chara : Okay let's do this, I'm listening

Feeling that the explanations were going to be long, Chara prefers to sit on the armchair in the living room, placing the flower pot containing Flowey on a stool in front of her.

Flowey : Okay, so first I'll tell you what this place is. Here we are in the Underground, a fairly large cavity below the mountain from which you fell, for the moment we have not encountered many monsters but there are very powerful inhabitants here

Flowey then explains in detail the legend of the war between humans and monsters as well as what the royal guard and the king and queen of the Underground are to Chara who listens attentively, she ends up falling asleep under the excessive explanations by Flowey.

Flowey : I haven't seen her magic yet, I hope she's good enough to survive here

Suivant

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 1, 7 janvier 1899, Paris. No. 19. — Groupe de toilettes. Bibliothèque nationale de France

(1) Collet de jeune femme, en drap bleu marine, formant la pointe devant et garni de deux grands revers d'astrakan. Col Médicis tuyauté en astrakan.

(1) Young woman's collar, in navy blue cloth, forming the point in front and trimmed with two large astrakhan lapels. Medici collar piped in astrakhan.

Matériaux: 3 mètres drap.

—

(2) Toilette de réceptions, en satin duchesse noir. Jupe plate devant et à godets derrière, avec broderies de soie noire formant volant et tablier. Corsage ajusté avec ballons à pans arrondis, garnis de revers brodés, gilet plissé en mousseline de soie noire, manches unies.

(2) Reception dress, in black duchess satin. Flat skirt in front and godets in the back, with black silk embroidery forming a flounce and apron. Fitted bodice with rounded-pan balloons, trimmed with embroidered lapels, pleated waistcoat in black silk muslin, plain sleeves.

Matériaux: 14 mètres satin.

—

(3) Collet de jeune fille en draperie perle, long derrière et court devant, avec volant froncé surmonté d'une baguette de drap piqué formant dents arrondies, col Médicis garni de velours à l'intérieur,

(3) Young girl's collar in pearl drapery, long at the back and short at the front, with gathered flounce topped with a strip of pique cloth forming rounded teeth, Medici collar trimmed with velvet on the inside,

Matériaux: 3 mètres drap.

—

(4) Toilette de bal pour jeune fille, en satin rose. Jupe fourreau, garnie dans le bas d'un volant de dentelle et sur les côtés de deux pans de satin brodés, de robes formant tablier. Corsage blouse en mousseline de soie plissée avec berthe de dentelle rappelant la jupe, chou de satin rose sur le côté, petites manches ballons, ceinture de satin rose.

(4) Young girl's ball gown, in pink satin. Sheath skirt, trimmed at the bottom with a lace flounce and on the sides with two embroidered satin panels, forming an apron. Blouse bodice in pleated silk muslin with lace berthe like the skirt, pink satin chou on the side, small balloon sleeves, pink satin belt.

Matériaux: 10 mètres satin; 3 mètres mousseline en 120.

—

(5) Toilette de bal pour jeune femme, en satin liberty vert d'eau. Jupe toute plate en dentelle avec volant de satin liberty, plissé vert d'eau. Corsage croisé en satin liberty vert d'eau avec boléro en forme en satin brodé de perle et de pierres.

(5) Ball gown for young woman, in water green liberty satin. Flat lace skirt with liberty satin flounce, water green pleats. Crossed bodice in water green liberty satin with shaped bolero in satin embroidered with pearls and stones.

Matériaux: 13 mètres satin; 4m.50 dentelle en lèse.

—

(6) Toilette de jeune fille, en moirine bleu ciel. Jupe toute plate avec volant en forme, très bas devant et haut derrière, Corsage blouse à draperies plates garnies de revers découpés en trois et garnis de petits velours noirs et de ruban plissé blanc. Gilet et nœud de tulle blanc, ceinture bleu ciel, manches unies.

(6) Young girl's dress, in sky blue moire. Very flat skirt with shaped flounce, very low in front and high in the back, Blouse bodice with flat draperies trimmed with lapels cut into three and trimmed with small black velvets and white pleated ribbon. White tulle waistcoat and bow, sky blue belt, plain sleeves.

Matériaux: 14 mètres moirine.

[amonglas]

Houset Devant, a naive young tealblood who is an aspiring magician, who dreams of going professional. Though, he's not very good at it.

I'm also on artfight this year. I still have to sort my characters out, but you should be seeing him, Hardve, and one other troll there soon.

[4letteraroace]

Soft

‘Soft’ was not a word that was often used to describe Tank. Mainly because anyone who used it would get their ass beat, but also because Tank kept their guard up for so long. How could anyone describe the shifter with a fierce bark and a fiercer bite as soft?

Then there was Sam.Tank found they could open up to him. One look at their mate would change Tank’s expression from pure steel to open, gentle adoration. A shift from Tank to Darlin’. 

Darlin’ found themselves becoming soft. They let their hair grow out. Something they hadn’t done for years because long hair was a liability and a hassle. They started wearing looser jewelry. Hoops instead of studs in their ears and a charm bracelet they hadn’t worn since they were little. But the biggest change was that Darlin’ started to dance again. 

— —

Sam was out with Vincent for the night. Something about closing on a new property for William. And Darlin’ had the house to themselves. A night without Sam. He’d be back before dawn, but there were so many hours between now and then. So, Darlin’ went to theirs and Sam’s shared bedroom and pulled out a box from underneath the bed. Inside were a pair of pointe shoes and a pair of technique ballet shoes. Darlin’ pulled out the technique shoes, whispering a quiet “not tonight” to their pointe shoes. The technique shoes were slightly worn, stained with dirt and sweat and memories. Darlin’ slipped them onto their feet, pointed and flexed their toes to make sure the shoes fit, then padded lightly to the kitchen. 

Gentle piano music started playing from Darlin’s phone as they placed their hand on the back of a chair as if it were a ballet barre. 

Feet turned out in first position. Posture perfect. Close your ribs, tuck the tail. Gently bring your right arm from low fifth, through first, to second position. 

Demi plié. Arm moves to low fifth. Demi plié. Arm moves through first position to second position. Breathe. And grande plié. Bend until your heels barely lift from the floor before straightening. 

Darlin’s mother had put them in ballet classes at a young age. “Dancing will teach you how to direct your energy in a healthy way,” she had said, pinning Tank’s hair into a bun at the crown of their head. “It will teach you discipline. Respect for authority. A sense of community. An appreciation for accomplishment through hard work.” Tank had always loved to dance. It always felt slightly more satisfying to complete a series of fouettés, than to punch someone off their feet. 

Tendu to second position, then fourth, then fifth. Begin the next sets of demi and grande pliés. 

Ballet was a sense of strength for Tank. From a young age they had lean and strong muscles that moved gracefully and efficiently. No one expected the dancer to be a good fighter. This underestimation from their peers let Tank win a great deal of physical fights in school. Tank’s mother disapproved of the fighting, but was proud of how her child handled themselves. There was a beautiful agility in Tank’s movements and attacks. Because of that grace, Tank got off relatively easy with their mother. Hard to get in trouble when mom’s proud of you. 

Tendu combination. Feet in fifth position. Arm in high fifth. Four tendus to the front, side, back, and side again. Arm moves from on high to second, to arabesque, to second again. 

And then there was high school. The move to Dahlia had been rough on Tank. New house, new school, new pack. The members of the Shaw Pack that were Tank’s age seemed to be an exclusive clique. Tank was fine with that. Being alone had never bothered them. Tank was a soloist and a soloist didn’t need validation from their peers. A soloist, however, was more than willing to execute a perfect grande battement devant straight into Asher’s nose when he made fun of Tank for spending all afternoon at ballet rehearsal. Enough power in one kick to give him a nosebleed and to give Tank their first lecture from Gabe. 

Darlin’ wondered if that pair of pointe shoes still had the blood on them. Maybe their parents had thrown that pair away. It had been several years since Darlin’ wore through that pair. 

Focus. Ronde de jambe combination. Then fondue and developpe. Breathe. Don’t get distracted Tank. Close your ribs, tuck the tail, engage your abs. 

As high school went on, Tank grew closer to their packmates. Definitely still a lone wolf but not totally alone. Tank had a small and shaky friendship with David, Asher, and Milo. That bond was formed out of necessity. Tank’s closest friend was an unempowered girl that was in their ballet class. The two had become close when their studio’s production of The Nutcracker had double cast all the roles and both of them were to dance as the Sugar Plum Fairy. The two dancers rehearsed often together and soon became closer than Tank was with any of their packmates. 

No. Don’t think about her. If you think about her, then you’ll think about Him. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe Tank. Fix your posture. Sous-sus and draw your foot up your leg to passé retiré. Balance. Breathe. 

That beautiful dancer was the friend that Quinn attacked. She had finally gotten through to Tank that they didn’t deserve Quinn’s abuse. And he destroyed her for it. 

Don’t think about that. Just breathe, Tank. Let’s skip the adagio combination tonight. Do something more fun. Petite allegro. 

She loved petite allegro. She loved racing Tank through the combo to see who could do it the fastest. Tank always won but the both of them would be laughing together as they missed steps by the end. 

And now you’re crying. Quinn should have his fangs ripped out for what he did to her. And to you. 

— —

By the time Sam walked through the door, Darlin’ was sobbing while forcing their way through a difficult turn combination. 

“Shit. Sam. You’re back early. How did things go with Vincent?” Darlin’ sniffed and wiped away their tears. 

“Things went relatively smoothly. Are you all right, Darlin’? What’s got you cryin’?”

What did Darlin’ ever do to deserve Sam? His worried gaze slid up and down his mate, trying to find the source of the tears and Darlin’s pain. 

“Just some bad memories. I’ll be fine.” Darlin’ tried to brush off Sam’s concern. The walls don’t come down easily. 

“None of that now. Come ‘ere.” Sam pulled Darlin’ into his arms before asking, “do you want to talk about it?”

Darlin’ shook their head. “Just hold me?”

“I can do that,” Sam said softly. 

The memories wouldn’t ever truly go away, but Darlin’ would dance again tomorrow night. For now though, Darlin’ rested in the arms of their mate. Safe. And soft.

[tomafome]

Mina Loy, Devant le miroir, c.1905. Graphite on brown paper mounted on cardboard, 41 × 33 cm. Private collection. Courtesy Bowdoin College Museum of Art. Photo: Jay York.

One of the first artworks in Mina Loy: Strangeness is Inevitable at the Bowdoin College Museum of Art [2023, curated by Jennifer R. Gross], is an early self-portrait titled Devant le miroir, in which graphite carves the waterline under a young eye suffused with heavy darkness. Below, a cheek shades down into a curve around sensuous lips that, one feels, used to smile. This is Mina Loy (1882–1966), a creative light both renowned and obscured in Modernism’s histories, whose eponymous exhibition is the first monographic presentation of her work, and significantly restores her to the center of international 20th century Modernism. ↘︎ Amy Rahn, https://brooklynrail.org/2023/07/artseen/Mina-Loy-Strangeness-is-Inevitable/