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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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A/W 2020 Fashion Month & Top 20 Collections: Before Vogue Went Blank (Part 4)

Hi all,

Welcome to part 4! It’s gonna be a bit of a shorter one because I wasn’t sure if I could fit the last few collections into my part 3 since I also want to include a ranking of my favourite F/W20 shows. I have so many ideas for what I’d like my next few posts to be (there’ll probably be a bit of gap between them as I would like to try and get some fiction writing in too) and I need help and recommendations on one post in particular so I thought I’d open by explaining that if anyone would like to send me suggestions! The post is basically going to highlight the often under-appreciated personal style of PoC, and I’d also like to make sure I include all types of bodies and genders and ethnicities (other than white girls, as we get enough credit as it is, all a tall, skinny blonde woman has to do is wear some light wash jeans, heels and a blouse and high fashion Twitter are posting non-stop about how incredible her style is)! This can be a celebrity, a model, an influencer or even just one of your friends if you think they deserve some hype too! Obviously there’s only so many photos I can include but I will make sure to look at any suggestions, though of course I’m gonna be biased towards the grungier looks; I gave Dolls Kill a pass for a long time because I thought the brand had changed and become more responsible over the last few years but since Shoddy Lynn’s thoughtless Instagram post during the protests last month and then her lacklustre response video, I say fuck that “goth is white” bullshit, alternative black women are hot af. I’ll also make sure to include a list of my favourite black owned clothing lines I’ve seen people talking about on Twitter and Instagram so again, if you have any suggestions feel free to inbox me. Other than that, I have a couple of lookbooks planned and after, either a post about my favourite shows for style inspiration OR a lookbook depending on whether I have the clothes to do it already/can source a few things from Depop-Depp-I’ve made a commitment not to buy anything new for the next couple of months and I want to stick to that this time round! I’d also like to do a general collation of my favourite summer outfits, an almost scrapbook-y kinda post, and another post on some of my favourite fashion icons (I’ll probs end up repeating a lot of the women from the post I was talking about above but I’ll try and include different outfits to keep it varied!).

Now, into the final part, and the top 20, starting with Tory Burch (I’m really pissed off because I added an unnecessary E in after the R and now Tumblr is once again being stupid and not saving any of my editing changes-also I said on the next post instead of in in the last paragraph and my anal-retentiveness is kicking into high gear).

You’d think it’s a kinda anti-climatic one to open with but I do like this collection! It reminds me a bit of last season’s Miu Miu but more so of Brock’s general aesthetic, though with more layers and in some ways to its detriment, a lot more wearable. Looking like something from a bygone era is part of what gives Brock its mystique, but Burch’s designs are practically made for the Chelsea born and bred lifestyle blogger who dresses for a cold spell in the Coachella valley all year long and treats trawling Pimlico’s furniture shops and meeting their girlfriends for coffee like it’s a full-time job. She’s probably born into money and doesn’t work all that hard but hey, she looks angelic holding a bouquet of flowers and in 2020 we all low-key want her life, right? It’d go against my ethics but...*whispers* it would be nice to be that girl just for a couple of days. It is a gorgeous collection, with a lush colour palette and an ever graceful variety of prints and textures, and it toes the line of being accessible and being worthy of a fashion week spot with dexterity. 8/10 and it only loses marks because it’s safe for the brand.

When it comes to Valentino, they’re a pretty reliable favourite for me, and this season’s collection doesn’t break tradition; this one is slightly grittier than usual too which is a big win for me. Whilst the usual sophistication and delicate details are there, quirky embroidery, sequins and tulle, we also get a lot of leather and more black than usual, which I pray doesn’t a herald a return to people thinking “I only own black clothes and listen to Artic Monkeys” is a personality trait. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but there seems to be a lot of aquatically inspired pieces in this collection too; the 3d roses resemble scales to me (and are a really unique texture), and the way the tulle is placed kinda reminds me of fins and has a mermaid on land feel. It wouldn’t surprise me, since Valentino does tend to draw from nature quite a bit. Highs for me were the Valentino red tulle piece and the tulle pieces in general, of course with the embroidered florals as well which the basic bitch in me always looks forward to. The few lows were concentrated in the leopard print section, a print that for me is really overdone and reminds me of recent Dolce and Gabbana. It was cool when layered with the matching coat but I otherwise could’ve done without it.

Vera Wang is another one of my reliable faves-I think I like this collection even more than the last, it really is a fucking DREAM. The overly floral pieces I wasn’t too keen on but I’ll ignore that on the basis that as with Gucci, the tulle-harness combo is everything I look for in a dress and more. I know manic-pixie-dream-girl is a bit of a slur (not a slur slur but you know what I mean) in terms of the associated character, but this 90s Courtney Love grunge twist on that aesthetic is gold, fully realised big anarchist fairy energy (which is a screen name I’m surprised I don’t see more often and which I might now steal). These dresses were made for someone like Zoe Kravitz or FKA Twigs on the red carpet, and if god forbid I somehow ever ended up on one, I would go to the ends of the earth to be wearing one of the dresses from this collection. Aside from the dresses, I appreciated the moody doesn’t-want-to-be-at-the-family-function teenager inspired sleeves and the 2014 Tumblr Cruel Intentions style knee high socks. Love, love, LOVE it.

So, Versace started off strong with the all black looks-the cut outs were cute if impractical and the fit and flare trousers in particularly were really well fitted (from a distance, at least). I hated the film Red Sparrow but the visuals were very cool, and this section reminded me of that, like a high fashion collection based on Jennifer Lawrence’s character. There were some stunning colour combos in the Ashish like hyper-floral part too, and the houndstooth, marble and Versace tile prints were sick. The black jumper with the flowers on reminds me of a jumper of my nan’s I always wanted that my aunty ended up donating to a charity shop after she died not knowing I liked it. Gutted (not just about the jumper obviously, looool).

HOWEVER, as with many 91 look collections, it was sloppy at times. A lot of pieces I at first liked (I.E the silver dress we saw Kendall Jenner in, included above) are kind of unfinished up close. There was also a big varsity inspired section which was nice at times but got pretty repetitive and occasionally looked like it could pass for Jack Wills or a bad Michael Kors collection. On the whole, it had both its pros and its cons which puts it directly in the middle of the pack.

Victoria Beckham’s collection is near the lower-middle quartile when it comes to plotting the highs and lows of the F/20 collections. The pieces are pretty and accessible, I’d definitely wear them, but they’re predictable and mostly a rip-off of other brands who did something similar in a more interesting way. Though her collections are never really experimental, this one is particularly safe, and she and whoever helped design this season’s pieces were clearly avoiding the edges of the box like a child playing the floor is lava. It’s alright, and I hate coming towards the end of the post with negativity, but I have to be honest, and this just doesn’t really interest me beyond a “yeah, that’s nice” glance.

Vivienne Westwood, on the other hand, is always interesting whether I would actually wear it myself or not. Despite the mix and matchiness that is essential to the deconstructed look, which being the basic bitch I am I often struggle to see past, there were some gorgeous pieces and eurgh, I could really talk about that Bella Hadid look all day. The contrast between the exaggerated femininity of the waist cinchers against the androgyny of the less structured, oversized pieces is a really interesting one and the colour combinations work beautifully together. I also love the idea behind the collection, which is, in the words of Andreas Kronthaler about “rites of spring, and the good and the bad, and conflict, and the good prevailing over evil”. Ahhh, I hear you say. THAT’S what’s with the garlic necklace. Can I get another pat on the back for summing up this collection as “vampire slaying uniform” in my notes? I mean, that’s kind of a good vs. evil situation, isn’t it? I know it’s hard to ignore how hot vampires always are in TV series and movies but just think of the true forms of the ones off Penny Dreadful and remember THEY DRINK BLOOD (I personally think being a vampire would be really cool, just need to work out how to do it “ethically”).

Lastly, Zimmerman, and I really can’t say how happy I am to end on a positive note because this collection was stunning. Not without all the characteristically ornate, indulgent and painstakingly detailed efforts we’ve come to expect from Nicky and Simone Zimmerman, these looks (in an icy winter themed colour palette as well) are the offspring of a sophisticated flower child and a 70s glam rocker and I think with this sentence I’ve finally put my style aspirations into words. Honestly, give me the money to produce a modern day Almost Famous and I’ll make my character this no-nonsense intersectional feminist front woman of a fictional Haim-like band who sings with the voice of an angel but is rock and roll as fuck and eats men for breakfast and I’ll put her in this collection and (deep breath) it would be ICONIC. There. Got to the point eventually. Am I talking about a 2020s version of Steve Nicks? Possibly. After all, I do have a framed illustration of her on my wall. But regardless, I need those lace-up velvet BOOTS, that mesh dress with the celestial embroidery, the flame detail pieces, the white pussy bow blouse with the eyes on it. Everything is sooo dreamy; when I was looking through the collection for my favourites, I saved pretty much every. single. look. IT’S EVERYTHING I STRIVE TO BE. WHY CAN’T I AFFORD ZIMMERMAN GOD DAMN IT!?

See, I’ll be going on about Zimmerman in a couple of paragraphs again because it will be very high in my top 20, which I’m so glad is a top 20 BTW. I know I said it would be a top 10 in my last post because I thought that was how I structured it last time but I double checked and it is 20, which is a relief; once again, picking only 10 collections would be very hard. SO! Let’s get into it!

1. Gucci

I hate being predictable but Gucci once again holds the top spot for me. How could I not love this? I would say that I hope Alessandro Michele fucks up next season so I don’t come off as a boot licker but when the boots in question are platform Mary Janes and knee high socks and they’re underneath tulle with BDSM inspired harnesses on top...maybe boot sole doesn’t taste so bad after all.

2. Zimmerman

Well, I did say it wouldn’t be long until you were seeing the same outfits again, so at least you know my word is good.

3. Moschino

Wow, as if putting Gucci first again wasn’t bad enough, Moschino’s also a non-mover. But...Marie Antoinette this season and Picasso last? And this campy? It’s like Jeremy Scott reached into my brain magician-into-a-top-hat-style, picked out an interest of mine at random, and tried to communicate this to me through the medium of design with THE most chaotic energy humanly possible. I an only commend the man, because he succeeded, and I approve. It’s weird because before I always saw Jeremy Scott’s designs as tacky and yet I’ve loved all the collections I’ve reviewed, so I must ask...are the collections getting less tacky or am I getting more tacky? Much to think about.

4. Vera Wang

The battle armour of a punk princess. Not very good at protecting against knives, arrows, bullets or...anything really, but I’ve never really been the kind of person to get into physical fights (apart with a bouncer who tried to push me down the stairs once at an ABBA night but I was really drunk and she was mean, alright!?), so who cares? Nobody can make you do anything in dresses this pretty.

5. Lanvin

I’m a few years behind everyone else but I’m still on the Mad Men hype train and I don’t ever want to get off. All I wish is that Betty Draper had *SPOILERS* divorced Don’s detty arse earlier and rode off into the sunset in that white Bella Hadid coat with the red lip to match (or the checkered one above will do).

6. Etro

As long as she remains the queen of dreamy bohemian fashion, I’m not gonna do Etro dirty by putting her any lower than this ever again on the basis that she’s not conceptual enough which ashamedly is what I implied in my last ranking-yes, Etro is a she because just as most women deserve more from men, she is beautiful and deserves better than my previous disrespect! I said what I said.

7. Dilara Findikoglu

I see your Thom Browne and your Commes Des Garcons and I raise you my “weird”-though-not-actually-that-weird-at-all-can-we-all-just-dress-like-this-on-a-day-to-day-basis-please? fave, Dilara.

8. Paco Rabanne

Battle armour that actually COULD protect you against knives, arrows, and bullets. Maybe. Well, you’d hope so anyway for the price.

9. Rodarte

Suddenly my phobia of spiders has evaporated. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that these ones are diamond encrusted, what are you on about?

10. Alberta Ferretti

The colour combinations in this collection were stunning. Honestly. I just picked a really bad pic to illustrate that. Go read my first post to see (grifting 101: complete)!

11. Charlotte Knowles

I saw Bella Hadi wearing a Charlotte Knowles two piece, so I bought a Charlotte Knowles two piece.

LMAOOO, I wish.

12. Balenciaga

It’s occurred to me a couple of posts too late now on the basis that Tumblr is being a dick and won’t go back and let me edit stuff, even little typos, but I’m now wondering if there’s a link between the climate change theming of the show and the exaggerated structures of the pieces? Ya know, the whole abundance is killing the planet line of thinking? I know analysis isn’t exactly on brand with these silly mini captions and that oversized and exaggerated proportions is one of Balenciaga’s running motifs anyway buuut just a thought I had! And sidenote: I do believe overconsumption is killing the planet! The way I phrased that made it seem like I’m a climate change denying dickhead! That I am not! Maybe if I shave my head, legally change my name to Steve, get a British flag tattoo on my bicep, and spend every waking moment in my nearest Spoons I’ll get there but it’s not on the agenda quite yet!

13. Christopher Kane

If fashionable robots took over the world, they’d raid Christopher Kane’s studio and fry us all with laser beams whilst wearing his dresses.

14. Fendi

Siri, play Vroom Vroom by Charli XCX.

15. Olivier Theyskens

Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. NEXT TIME I WILL REMEMBER WHAT THE PROPER NAME IS INSTEAD OF NEEDING TO GOOGLE IT AGAIN. Come on brain, you’re supposed to be good at this kinda thing, make it happen.

16. Elie Saab

Blair Waldorf’s wet dream. Add in some platform boots and chain jewellery and now it’s my wet dream too.

Because Chuck Bass is creepy as FUCK and maybe it’s because I watched Gossip Girl at the ripe old age (lol) of 21 and most people watch it as teenagers but I don’t know why YOU WERE ALL SO OBSESSED WITH HIM! He tries to sexually assault Jenny who is about 14 in the VERY FIRST EPISODE. I think I went off on a tangent here but it had to be said. You girls have no taste.

Don Draper was an absolute dog, but he was played by Jon Hamm, and he might be one of the finest men on the planet. What’s your excuse, Chuck and Blair enthusiasts?

17. Miu Miu

As someone who has probably been/met many a spoilt brat in her time, I appoint Miu Miu as the official sponsor of the Spoilt Brat™ aesthetic and yeah, that’s something I just made up but I’m on the money here. Imagine one of those “daddy, can you get me a pony?” types all grown up. Are you telling me you don’t picture her in Miu Miu? Because that sounds like a lie.

18. YSL

The war flashbacks I get of the Friends episode where Ross tries to get out of those leather trousers aside (I know it’s PVC her not leather but they have the same sheen, you can’t deny it), these outfits turn me into the irl version of the heart eyes emoji. It’s not like I think this is the best collection I’ve ever seen, YSL could def push the boat out a bit in terms of experimentation, but there aren’t many people who wouldn’t look hot as fuck in one of these pieces

19. Balmain

I didn’t like ALL of it, but the looks that I did like were amongst the ones that stuck out to me most when I was reflecting on the collections I’ve reviewed: the breast plates and silk capes and the scorpion detailing are real chef’s kiss moments.

20. Marques Almeida

Miss the collection that gave us this coat off the list? Never.

SO!

That is the end! Wow! I started saving the photos for this review back in late January/early February or whenever it was that the first fashion week began and now it’s mid-fucking July!? I don’t know if that speaks more to my incompetency or what a state the last few months have been. I’m not gonna write a super long ending paragraph because you’ve heard enough from me already and it’s 2:30am and I’m being hassled by Trump supporters on Twitter (literally just for stating that it’s a privilege to be able to pursue a career you truly have a passion for rather than having to be practical about finances first) anddddd I’ve got a closing shift tomorrow so I should probably log the fuck off and remove my clown makeup before it’s time to start my shift, lol!

Quick recommendation before I wrap this up, there was a really interesting debate on ITV literally a few hours ago on the Stephen Lawrence case that I thought I would recommend (they also showed the 1999 dramatic portrayal of events afterwards) about racism in England and whether or not much has changed since the murder. I didn’t catch the whole thing but from what I did see, there were some really strong points being made and I think it could be a good thing to sit and watch with your family members if you want to get talking about the Black Lives Matter movement and aren’t sure how to broach the topic. I bring it up because I feel like most middle-aged white people trust ITV so they’re less likely to turn their noses up (lol, I wish I was joking) at it and maybe go in with a more open mind. I’d like to keep the conversation about social issues going so if there’s anything you’d like me to get some information together on and make a post about-I read yesterday that there’d been arrests of THE PEOPLE PROTESTING the way Breonna Taylor’s death has been handled. No, not the police officers responsible for her death, the people simply pointing out that those police officers have done wrong. It’s a ridiculous situation and just shows how deeply embedded a police officer’s supposed right to kill and to use force is in upholding the American status quo. I wish I could end the post on better news, but let’s hope that next time I post, there is some, and as always thank you for reading til the end if you did get this far! I really don’t have all that many followers on here but do et me know if there’s anything I can reblog or share to help.

Lauren x

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evien-stark · 5 years

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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 95

“Café ou thé?” Tony’s work around, his gentle hand, asking you in a wonderful purr of french- coffee or tea? The two of you had been working on your … traumas, and when phrased like this, there was no spike. No extra voice in your head. No remembering of the immense pain. Just the sound of his voice and a simple question. One you could answer without thinking too much.

“Tea, please.”

Though the vacation didn’t have an end date (and officially didn’t even have a start date, to be fair), you both knew it was coming to a close, soon. Which was fine. You couldn’t stay hidden from the world and all your responsibilities forever. Much as you would have liked to.

When he came around the small table, interrupting your view of the forest and mountains beyond, you tipped your head up, accepting the press of his light kiss at your forehead as he settled a mug of freshly steeped tea in front of you. This was what your life was supposed to be. This was how you wanted to be. It just wasn’t meant to be.

So you had to enjoy it now. And in between little touches of lips and snuggles, tea and coffee gone, you asked, “Can we go on a hike?” There was just so much scenery facing you since you’d gotten here. It seemed a waste to just look at it once and never actually enjoy it.

“You going native on me?”

A little joke, a short shared huff of laughter. And then on a hike the two of you went.

It had just rained- a freezing sort, entering into December now. (Truly a very long lived- deserved vacation.) Maybe it hadn’t been the smartest idea. But you pulled him over one path, and he tugged you over the next. Birds were still singing here, somehow. Or maybe it was just your imagination. The thing that mattered was it smelled earthy, it felt good. Most of your life now was surrounded by screens and walls that trapped you. Just being able to look up into a massive lush sky…

It was as he’d moved to sit on a log, a few hours into such a freeing walk, that you stepped out over a ledge. Holding to yourself as you looked down.

Something blew by you as you closed your eyes. And saw… just the two of you. No one around for miles. Except…

You could have sworn you’d heard him speaking to you- something garbled and soft. Turning, arms folded, you gave him a curious look. “Did you say something?”

He arched a brow. “You hearing things?”

“Must have been the wind.”

----

Since Tony had fulfilled your only ask by way of returning to nature for a handful of hours, before you were due to set off, he asked you to accompany him around Tokyo. You knew this would be a bad decision. There wasn’t anywhere the two of you could go that was that full of people that you wouldn’t be seen.

Which is exactly what had ended up happening. More than once groups of people surrounded the two of you, asking for pictures and autographs. If Tony wasn’t acting like such a shutter-darling, soaking up all the attention (especially when asked to do the famous Iron Man pose), you might have had a problem with it. The longer it went on, the more suspicious you grew. Did Tony want to go out only to get seen? But the real reason for the outing became clear when he took you to a small shop, tucked away from all the screams and shouts, all the hustle and bustle. There he made light conversation with a very old shopkeeper by way of JARVIS for translation (Japanese not his strong suit without assistance, which was fine, you didn’t speak it at all). Once all was said and done he was presented with a very old but beautiful tea set, which the shopkeeper wrapped up so gently in pretty black and silver paper.

Once Tony paid and had it under his arm, he turned to you with one of those softer smiles of appeal. “Mind if we hit DC on the way back?” Ah.

So, very easily you let him know, “Of course not.”

You had a floral arrangement prepped alongside a minimal yet somehow grandiose dinner, as per Tony’s instructions, and called ahead to the nursing home to have them clear a part of the cafeteria for you. The table was wonderfully set, quite cozy and almost… like a home. And the two of you stood, his arm around you a little tight- that small yet steady thrum of anxiousness and that sadness he tried to bury swirling about as a nurse helped Peggy in and sat her down.

As she looked up at him, her hazy eyes lit up. “Oh- Tony- I didn’t know you were stopping by. I thought they were marching me out for some grand final moment in the courtyard.” Chuckling, truly delighted to see him.

You let him go, standing back, so that he could give her one of those quick squeezes, a little peck on the cheek, and the low voiced, “It’s good to see you, Aunt Peggy.”

“You’re as handsome as ever. Like your father- don’t tell him I said that. Getting into all sorts of trouble, I’ll bet.” Giving him a pat on the face, really looking at him as he sat down beside her. “How is Howard? And Maria? I feel like I don’t see them much anymore.”

The painfulness hit you, like a sharp poke in the chest. “They’re fine. Hey- I got you something-” Trying to cut off the cyclical repetition of an aging mind.

“Oh- you didn’t have to do that- and this dinner- that’s you, too, isn’t it. You’ll make the staff work too hard.” She took hold of the carefully handpicked present he’d brought from her.

“That’s what we pay them for.” Sarcastic as ever in the face of it all. When he half turned to give you a look over the fact that you were sort of awkwardly just standing there, you moved to sit down. You’d spoken to this woman a few times now, a little more personally the first you’d ever met her, but… it never stopped being hard.

And as soon as you got comfortable, she looked up at you. “Oh, hello. Who’s this? Don’t tell me you got another assistant.”

“Hi, ma’am-” You’d done this introduction more than once. It never stopped being difficult.

Though she smiled, she looked at Tony. “What happened to Pepper? I always thought-”

“Pep’s fine. Working hard, like always.” He gave her a little gentle touch at her arm. And then… just like the sparse times you’d done this before, he reintroduced you. You sat there, hoping the clouds would dissipate, but knowing they wouldn’t. “-my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend, goodness. When are you getting married?” Waving a hand at the both of you.

At this he smiled. “For once, I don’t think that’s up to me.”

She put her hand down over yours. “He’s a fine man. For the most part. If you can tolerate that mouth every now and again.”

You couldn’t help your giggles. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

“Hey, thanks.” He put his elbow on the table, and settled his chin in his upturned palm.

“Oh- this is gorgeous- thank you-” Peggy had finally unwrapped her tea set. And yet, seemed a little more preoccupied with the conversation at hand. “I mean what I said, you know. And if he gives you trouble, send him here. I wasn’t afraid to put him in a corner when he was a boy, I’m not afraid to, now.”

“Oh?” Wanting to hear all about that.

“Yes- well. It takes a village to raise a child right- especially a boy- especially a boy like Tony.” And while said boy was about to try and cut this off, you felt the slip, and she put her hand on his arm next. “How are Howard and Maria? Are they coming? And Mr. Jarvis, and Ana… I feel like I haven’t seen them in a while.”

Tony put a firm hand over hers, giving her a squeeze. “They’re alright, Peggy. Everyone’s okay.”

“I love it when I get to see everyone… and Daniel- do you know… I think… I think my room has been empty for a long time…”

There was a flutter of panic- first from Tony. “Dan’s okay, aunt Peggy. Everyone is okay. Hey- are you hungry? I think somebody actually went outside and shot this turkey, so we should probably-” Then from her. “Daniel- I think… I think my room is empty-”

“Hey, look at me, okay?” It took all your fortitude to sit through this. As Tony placed a hand on her face, turned her to look at him. “Everything’s alright.” You weren’t sure what to do. Or, more importantly, if you should do something. But… watching the both of them struggle…

You slipped. You went deep. And with that bright orange sky cast above you, you settled a hand on Peggy’s heart. Everything is okay. Everyone is okay. Imparting calm and a wash of ease.

And when your vision cleared, you saw her smiling at Tony. Her trembling had stopped. They were talking about something, though the words were muffled. Underneath the table, you held your hands together tightly. “Dear?” But she called your attention forward, and you saw the both of them looking at you. “I’m g̴o̸i̶n̵g̴ ̸t̷o̵ ̷m̸a̸k̸e̵ ̵t̸e̸a̸. W̴̱̊ö̴͚̘́̿̂ͅu̵̢̾̈́̎l̸̲̇d̵̤̑ ̴͓̔ý̴̏̄ͅo̸̯͝ū̷̫̯̳ ̵̟̇́̔l̶̩̝͊ī̵͜k̶͖̕e̸̩͋͝ ̴̱̦̩̏̀́s̴͚̏̈́̓ǫ̶͇͒̌m̷̢̙͉͗̔̏ḛ̷̺̀?̴͚͉̔̓͑?̸?” It came out in dark static. That accent-

You swallowed hard. And held yourself steady through the rise of urgent panic. Tony was dealing with enough. And who knew- if you spiraled, you could potentially kill Peggy.

“Yes- that would be… that would be nice…” Be strong. Be strong…

----

Once outside the facility, Tony took your hand in a grip that threatened to crush your bones. But you let him. Because it grounded you. It wasn’t until the two of you were back on the jet, still hand in hand, your gaze out the window, that he finally spoke- “Thank you. For everything you just did back there.”

You found yourself nodding mindlessly. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I should have realized- I should have thought-” About to apologize for the monumental gaff of accidentally inviting you to tea time with his sick aunt.

“Hey… who is Ana?” But now you were the one cutting off a wave of panic, with the undertow of heavy guilt. Because. Honestly. Right now? You just couldn’t handle it. “Ana was Jarvis’ wife.”

Along with Howard and Maria… Tony’s life had been laid bare. A string of accidents and tragedies had left him alone for a very long time. A continual cycle until it had just been him in a big house with a familiar voice… his hand had clutched to yours so hard, so suddenly, probably thinking the same thing. Visiting the one face that had been such an integral part of his growing up, yet was doomed to not be able to grasp the losses they’d all suffered.

The people who had raised him. All gone now. That was the way life was, wasn’t it? But the other man she’d been the most concerned about… it seemed fairly obvious. You put a hand over his to try and ease the grip he had on you. He apologized when he realized, by way of lifting your hand to press a kiss to the back.

In the silence you dared to ask. Just to get the whole picture. Finally.

“Who is Daniel?”

“Dan was Peggy’s husband.”

“Oh.”

You wondered briefly if Steve knew about that, considering…

----

Really none of your business. But- as if you’d invited more storm into your house- the minute that you and Tony had gotten back, the man in question was practically waiting to pounce. Your elevator had only just exited on the top floor, you had only just stepped out, gone into the kitchen for a glass of water with Tony- and then the telltale ding hit the floor, and the two of you stepped around the bend to see him standing there.

Tony, speaking with a mouth half full of stale cookie (that had been sitting on the counter in a box since you’d left), “You okay, buddy? You look like you ran all the way up the stairs- but- I seem to remember hearing our private elevator just open…” Making no effort to show that he was getting annoyed with all the unannounced visits to what was basically your home.

There was little hiding the frustration leaking off of him. He shook a weak gesture Tony’s way before pointing your way. “Can I talk to you, please?” Then, also not hiding the look he gave Tony before his eyes came back to you, “-in private?”

“Oh, good.” Tony answered first, turning back around. “I don’t have to be part of whatever this is. Squabbles over the toilet seat being left up I imagine.” Pressing a little kiss to your temple before departing. There was a quiet message between the two of you here. No secrets, and it had been that way for a long time. So he trusted you to go talk to Steve and deal with whatever this was. And trusted you to talk to him about it if it was serious. And not just over petty living squabbles.

And with the way Steve was looking at you… “Sure. In the living room okay?”

“Somewhere more private. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh.” Although you and Tony had been gone for a month, sure, you had hoped they’d be able to handle themselves. But as usual, the literal second vacation was over, it was back to stress and nonsense. “Sure. Let’s go to my office downstairs.”

“Thank you.” Curt with just as sharp a nod.

Holding back a sigh (and practically all your nerves), you stepped in line with him by his side as you called the elevator back. And then got in. And then… waited in terribly strained silence while it descended. Upon opening onto one of the Stark Industries floors, you got out first, and waved off all the people trying to hand you things and ask for stuff. Opening the door to your office, you allowed him in first, and then closed the door behind you.

As if even this was not enough, after looking around (like he’d never been in here before, which was certainly not the case), he gave you a look. “Nothing we talk about leaves this room, right?”

He wasn’t just asking to speak to you in confidence. And, understanding that, “LUNA, nothing comes in or goes out for the next twenty minutes.”

She answered fairly quickly, “Yes, ma’am. All channels blocked. Nothing leaves this space.”

You gestured for him to sit down on the long couch backed up against the wall, and you sat on the plush chair in front of your desk facing him. “Okay. So. What’s the matter?”

He sat forward, hands clasped together. “What do you know about the Zodiac weapon?”

Unable to help the curious turn of your head, a few blinks- a little pause for thought- as that didn’t sound familiar but… you had to think about it to make sure. And when you were, “I don’t know what that is. Is it something serious?”

“It’s a biological weapon.”

Oh. That was something extremely serious. “Do we have orders to go get it?”

“No need. SHIELD already has it.” The look he was leveling your way was icy. It put you in your place for a moment. It wasn’t just frustration now. It was pretty white-hot anger. “Swear to me you don’t know anything about it.”

It felt very much like he was accusing you of something, and it was hard not to immediately get defensive. “I swear, Steve. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Giving this room to breathe, keeping your eyes on his. You weren’t sure what was going on (although you could guess), but if he distrusted you, it was going to be one step in a long fall downhill. That much you understood. “What’s going on? Should I be worried?”

He stared at you for a few seconds longer before his eyes closed for a moment as he dropped his head in a shake. “No more so than you and Tony usually are. I know it feels like a long time ago but… I feel stupid for giving the two of you grief back on the helicarrier. Even knowing what we found out then… it just never ends.”

“...Steve?” Really not knowing what to do with that. He was talking about before New York got attacked?

He looked up at you again, gaze softer, but no less serious. “I think you should step away from SHIELD, effective immediately.” He was trying to protect you from something. But…

It was starting to get on your nerves. He was refusing to tell you what this was all about. “Why?”

“You know why.”

Asking you plainly to put the pieces together, so I don’t have to tell you. But that wasn’t really working for you. And when your dead-eyed stare yielded no results… “JARVIS.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Tap the SHIELD grid. Get me everything we have on- what did you say?- the weapon Zodiac-”

Steve put a hand up. “Don’t do that-”

“These files are encrypted ma’am. Level 8 access or higher.”

A small silence came over the room. You were looking at Steve. Steve was looking at you. And then you made your next move, “Give me clearance.” And by that you meant- just go in there and take what I need.

“Yes, ma’am. Allow me a moment, please.”

Steve stood up suddenly, hands tight at his sides. “This isn’t necessary. Look- I’m just asking you to stay out of their business for the time being. I went out on a mission for them and came back with something I didn’t like.”

You stared up at him, crossing one leg over the other, putting your hands on your knee. “I don’t play games with half of the pieces. You should know me better than that. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Just listen to me-”

“I would if you’d say anything.”

“Ma’am.” JARVIS stopped your bickering. “Mr. Stark now has the files.”

And at that you really bristled. “I didn’t say send them to Tony, JARVIS-”

The door to your office opened, and in walked, wouldn’t you know it- “Yeah, well. Mr. Stark doesn’t like being kept in the dark. Also- you have your own programs, why’re you ordering JARVIS around?” Tony, with a tablet in hand, scrolling over whatever it was JARVIS had unearthed.

“That way if he gets caught I can blame it on you.” Joking, of course, but you smiled oh so sweetly up at him.

JARVIS spoke above you, “I never get caught.”

Tony came to a stop in front of your chair and turned the tablet your way, handing it down to you. Although his eye roll was directed skyward. “Oh please.”

Steve was getting upset. “Alright, I’ve had just about enough of this- I was trying to do you a favor-”

You tried to tune him out, but when that wasn’t working, you just started reading aloud. As you did, Tony turned towards Steve, arms folded, narrowing his eyes. “The weapon known as Zodiac was recovered by Agent Margaret Carter in New York City, from a small band of movers, destination unknown. Agent Carter disobeyed direct agency orders to carry out the mission alone.” Reading this part purposefully, as it dampened Steve’s fire and quieted him. Perhaps a terrible thing to do but…

Taking a breath, you continued. “Zodiac is an incredibly powerful and incredibly dangerous weapon, capable of destroying an entire city. Compound list… ingredients…” Skimming through stuff you didn’t understand. “Zodiac listed on record as destroyed effective April 1951- under authorization of Howard Stark and Agent Carter... Moved to bunker facility for further…”

Feeling like you just couldn’t finish the rest of it. What was the point? It was clear what was going on. When you looked up from the tablet, you caught Steve and Tony just looking at one another. ...as always… haunted by ghosts of a past they could not change. Yet it seemed like every time they encountered them, it was all entangled.

As per his silent request earlier, to kill the maddening silence in the room, you put the pieces together. “Someone stole it from SHIELD. And they told you to go get it.”

Steve looked away. “Not just me. Rumlow and Nat. Both of them knew the truth about the whole thing.” Shit. Rumlow you really couldn’t have cared less about. A STRIKE team lackey. But… Natasha getting on Steve’s bad side was bad for everyone. He finally looked your way again after a deep breath. “They’re trying to justify it as a security measure. That by putting it on record as destroyed, no one would come looking for it.”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah. Why not just actually destroy it?” Bitterness dripping off him. You reached a hand up to sooth over his leg. He stopped holding to himself so tightly, but he was still incredibly annoyed. “This is SHIELD’s MO. You can’t tell me you’re surprised.”

Why not destroy it? Because maybe they’d have use for something that could level a city. Some day. Yeah. That was the SHIELD you knew.

And at this? Steve shook his head. “Not surprised anymore just…”

“Disillusioned.” You finished for him. It was always one step forward ten steps back with them. At what point was it going to stop? “So what do you wanna do about it?” You could bring it to Fury. Get yelled at for digging around. And… then what? Probably nothing. But you didn’t want to just leave Steve hanging.

He shook his head again. “Nothing. I just want you to stay out of their way for a while. ...they wanted you on the mission. It was a good thing you were gone. Both of you.” Redirecting his gaze to Tony. Something softer. Like he’d been thinking about this. A lot. “What would have happened if we’d lost control? You think SHIELD would admit they were at fault?”

Tony’s head tipped forward, a curve of his brow in what was definitely the most dryly sarcastic look he could muster. “What are we doing here? Playing least-likely-scenario? SHIELD will admit they’re wrong about anything the day you do.”

“Hey, I’m not above admitting my mistakes.” Putting his hands up. “Just before you walked in I was saying-”

“It doesn’t matter.” You put a stop to the both of them. Because it really just didn’t. Tony poking at Steve’s supposed righteousness wasn’t going to help. Even if it was somehow in a fond manner. “Look- I work for SHIELD, same as you do. If I stop taking Fury’s calls about that kind of stuff, he might get suspicious.”

Tony shrugged. “Let him. When he decides to show face, I’ll let him know about the extensive life insurance policy we have out, and in the event of a negligent death on their end-”

Finally you stood, rubbing a hand between his shoulder blades. “Okay. Alright. We’re not going there.” He was getting just a little worked up. “Also I thought they wouldn’t provide payout considering our lifestyle.”

He half grinned at you. “Not for both.”

“Wait- so which one of us has one?” Confused now. He was probably joking either way but-

Steve cleared his throat. “Look- I actually have somewhere I need to be. Can I just get a little resolution here?”

Looking his way, Tony threw him another look. “What do you want us to say? We’re surprised SHIELD sent you on a mission they preordained with their secretive bumbling? Or that-”

“I just want her to stay out of their field work for a while. Until I can get a better sense of who we’re working for. Who we trust.”

“You and me both.”

It was impossible to hold back your sigh. “I appreciate the both of you looking out for me. I’ll… try to keep extra busy. And put Fury’s calls through to voicemail. Okay? But… don’t start hammering at the walls here. And… go easy on Nat, alright? I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say she probably put in a scathing report.”

“I’m not ready to call it quits. With anyone. Just… keeping an eye out. I promised to keep things clean between us. I meant it.”

Whether or not what she did was right, Natasha worked for SHIELD. At a deeper level than the rest of you did. And had for a long time. And… as you understood it, owed them a lot. She was no fool, either. If this had been a stupidly dangerous mission, caused over foolishness and ineptness by SHIELD (especially by Fury), you were sure she had gone to Nick’s office and told him exactly how she’d felt.

Tony shrugged, arms still folded. “Debrief right into a shredder, I’m imagining. Nothing in the world changes over word documents. Especially not that world.”

Looking towards Steve you gave him a little nod. “Thank you. For telling me all this.”

At that his brows lifted. “I didn’t.” Then he smiled. “But you’re welcome.”

Stepping closer to him, Tony held out his hand. And when Steve put his hand in Tony’s and gave him a firm shake. “Thanks, Captain.” They sized each other up respectfully, in that way the always seemed to, and then Steve turned to leave. When the door was closed, Tony stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at you. “What did he mean by that- keep things clean?”

You recalled it easily. “When I was watching him at the Retreat- when we snuck out that one night-”

“When I let you out, you mean, yes I remember.”

“-a paparazzi snuck up on us. And I… mildly persuaded him to go back to his car and delete his footage. Steve kinda figured out what was going on, and thought I was put there to manipulate him.”

Tony huffed out a laugh, coming closer. He put his arms around your shoulders, drawing you in. “As if you need the thing to manipulate anybody.” And when you arched a brow at him, hoping he wasn’t insinuating anything terrible, he just grinned. “All you have to do is bat those big eyelashes at somebody and they’ll work for you for free. Believe me. I’m a first hand witness.”

“Excuse me.” You feigned offended, pressing your hands against his chest. “You better not be talking about what I think you’re talking about.”

“Okay- well- in this instance- I put you to work for me- but I think it applies-” He leaned in, nose nuzzling against yours.

It was a shame that he so easily drew giggles from you, but you attempted to stave him off. “I think you’ve been with me too long- is four years too long? You’re starting to view everything from a very romantic lens. And let’s not forget- you were fucking anything that moved for sport back then.” So. He was wrong, in this instance. He didn’t need to rewrite history. You loved him all the same.

“Not you.”

“You tried.”

“Not hard enough.” Silencing your continued giggles as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. You indulged him, wrapping your arms around his neck, sinking in easily. You’d only just come back from a vacation all to yourselves, full of moments like this- like this, but no single one the same. Yet there was still always room for more. As he barely parted, his murmur caught you feeling flush. “I told you… it’s always been you.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Not that you minded by any means. But… all things considered, you both had just been told something very serious. And here he was acting like he’d barely paid any attention, and all that had mattered was-

“Not four years- do you realize we’ve known each other a decade?” He said these words in between kisses that were growing longer and longer in length. “I had a feeling- while we were gone but… I had to check my math…”

“Ten years, really? Has it been that long? ...you’re sure?”

“I’m always sure.” His smile pressed to yours. It was that charming confidence, mixed with just this overwhelming feeling of adoration, of love, that really swept you away. The next kiss became the last, sealed in a perfect touch of parted lips. His arms pulling you that much closer to him, yours winding tighter around his neck, pressing yourself against him. It was just as your head was growing dizzy, the faint sound of a deep murmur in the back of his throat-

Interrupted by the sound of your office door opening, and Pepper’s voice- “I tried to keep a giant workload off your desk but I need you to- oh!” The two of you broke apart, and while you, guilt and heat pooling in your cheeks alike, directed your gaze away-

Tony was looking at her rather vexed. “Excuse me- didn’t I teach you a long time ago that a closed door means knock?”

“God- I’m- I’m sorry- also- you two have a whole floor upstairs to yourselves- there’s no reason to- in here? Really?”

You forced your voice to work. “I’ll get right on whatever it is- can you just give us a minute?”

She made a bunch of noise, none of which were actual words, until she found some at least. “Yes- fine- but only a minute. And you better not be doing that when I come back.” Very quickly she shut the door behind her.

A sigh escaped you. “Back to work.”

“Or we could take her suggestion and go upstairs.”

Despite yourself, he poked yet another round of giggles out of you. Maybe it was just how lightheaded you were feeling. “I don’t think that’s what she was suggesting.”

“I’m taking creative liberty here.”

Reaching up to cup his cheek in your palm, you drew him down closer again, leaving a carefully sweet kiss on his lips. “Later. And… thanks for coming to my rescue.” It was no coincidence he’d come running down here after seeing you’d been accessing deep SHIELD files- after being toted off by Steve. It wasn’t because he thought you couldn’t handle it.

It was all too easy to see he’d literally rushed downstairs to check on you. Make sure things were okay. Or get you out of the situation if you needed out. “Always.” Murmured against your lips.

Time enough for one last kiss.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter Ninety Five

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lokis-lady-death · 6 years

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Interview with a God

Tom Hiddleston/Loki x reader

Prompt: I have always heard people joke that Tom Hiddleston is actually Loki playing Tom playing Loki. So, let’s write about it XD

A Oneshot? A Two shot? A mini series? I have no idea, but this idea has been eating at me so I wrote it thusly. Beware.

Interview with a God

You had been sitting behind the desk at People’s magazine for years waiting for this opportunity. Articles about nonsense, trailing after celebrities at red carpet events, pretending to care about ball gowns and suits, all for the moment you would be handed the biggest, most sought after piece of People: The Sexiest Man Alive 2018.

You practically squealed when you were given the assignment.

“I hope you conduct the interview with a bit more grace, Ms. y/n,” your director joked.

You took a moment to calm yourself before asking, “Who is it? Who won?” You had been impatiently listening outside of the main office to hear who were the candidates, absolutely drooling over the idea of getting to meet them face to face. But there was one in particular you were holding out hope for.

“Your Tommy boy got it unanimously.”

Another squeal. Thomas William Hiddleston. You had followed his career long before he became a Marvel sensation but you had to admit his portrayal of the god of mischief on the silver screen had sent you soaring. The idea of a one on one meeting with the Shakespeare loving brit was almost more than you could handle.

“I’m elated for you, y/n, really. But do try to keep it in your pants, you’re representing our magazine,” the director instructed. “Keep the fangirling to a minimum. I’ll have your questions emailed to you once we contact Mr. Hiddleston and set up a good time to speak with him.”

You smiled slyly. “Absolutely.” With a fake curtsey, you added, “I shall conduct myself with dignity and grace before my king.”

The director laughed and dismissed you, promising the email to be sent by the end of the work day.

That evening you laid across your bed with your laptop, going over the interview questions.

“Oh it’s so boring,” you muttered. Everyday questions, things you know Tom’s heard a thousand times. You chewed on your lip, eyes going across the room. Avenger’s was playing in the background on your TV. The iconic Loki KNEEL scene was on. Tom played that character with so much bravado. So much enthusiasm. So much passion. You looked back at your list. “A few different questions shouldn’t be too much for Hiddly to handle.”

*****

Tom was staying at The Plaza of New York, awaiting a photo-shoot with Entertainment Weekly for the upcoming Avenger’s four movie when he received the call from his agent. He would be named The Sexiest Man Alive 2018. To say he was flattered was an understatement.

Once off the phone he received the email from his agent, from People, outlining what would be discussed. He let out a sigh, scrolling through the questions. All the same as any other interview. He glanced down at the bottom and saw the Interviewee name. Having never heard of you, his first instinct was to do what any other self respecting person in the 21st century would do: Facebook.

A smile crept over his lips while he scrolled idly through image after image of you and your friends.

“Gorgeous,” he said to himself.

He paused when he saw you in a shirt that read “Loki is my King”. He couldn’t contain his laughter, reading comments of naysayers stating that he was a villain. “You just don’t understand his characterization,” you had argued full heartedly. “Loki is deeper than people give him credit for.” He raised a brow at this, staying on the image a moment longer before closing his computer.

Tom’s smile widened and a flash of green sparked in his eyes. Perhaps this interview would be different than others.

*****

The day of the interview arrived. Dressed in a light green floral blouse and knee length black skirt, you arrived an hour early to prepare. Originally the director instructed that you would conduct the interview in a conference room at Tom’s hotel, but when you arrived the room was not only not ready, but it had not even been booked for you. Absolutely horrified your first big break was already falling apart, you were relieved to hear from Tom’s assistant that he didn’t mind meeting with you in his room.

You controlled your inner fangirl at the idea of being in such an intimate setting with your favorite actor, reminding yourself you were a representative for People magazine and had to behave. You clutched your mini laptop close to your chest as the assistant led you up to his suite.

Outside, the assistant paused before opening the door. “You have your questions?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly.

“You are to stick to the agreed questions,” he warned, “You are to keep the meeting as brief as possible. You are to respect anything Mr. Hiddleston wishes to keep private.” Only when you nodded did he slide the key through the entry, pushing the door open to let you in.

You took a deep breath and stepped through, nearly jumping when it slammed and locked behind you. You were surprised the assistant wasn’t coming.

Then it dawned on you. You were alone in a hotel room with Tom Hiddleston.

You looked around the room, stunned this was merely a hotel suite. The wall was painted with floral silhouettes, the furniture lush with golden trim, a nearly obnoxious chandelier set in the living room. There was even a staircase leading to an upper level that must have held the bedroom and bathroom.

“This is bigger than my apartment…” you mumbled.

“Yes, I suppose it is a bit excessively grande, isn’t it?” You turned to see Hiddleston stepping out of a side room, donning his iconic toothy grin. “Good afternoon, Miss y/n, it’s an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He held out a hand for you and you panicked for a moment, drowning in the sea of rosy gold locks on his head, his glorious facial scruff, the fitted navy pinstripe suit. After what must have been the most awkward second of you life, you reached out to shake his hand. But he didn’t. Instead, he bowed, lightly brushing his lips across your fingers, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Oh!” you squealed, calming yourself, clearing your throat, and finishing with, “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“No, please, call me Tom.”

Internally pterodactyl shriek echoed before you offered a smile in return. “Tom, excellent. Alright. Well. Let’s begin, shall we?”

Your heart thumped loudly while he led you back the way he came: a much smaller room, furnished with a quaint loveseat and armchair. He took the chair and left you the couch.

The laptop plopped into your lap while you cleared your throat again, trying to collect yourself. When you glanced up, you could see he was watching you intensely. “I’m sure you’ve been going over the interview questions?” you asked for no other reason than to deflect from what an absolute mess you were.

“Mhm,” he answered, leaning back in the chair and crossing a long leg over the other. His eyes never left you as a sly smile graced his perfect lips.

“Ok well,” you cleared your throat, unwilling to meet his gaze. “Let’s begin.” You clicked on your laptop, reading the most painfully obvious, overly asked question of any award winning celebrity. “So what was your first thought when we called and said you won?”

He closed his eyes, as though imagining the exact moment over in his head. “I said I believe you meant to call Chris Hemsworth, let me give you his phone number.” You let out a short laugh, typing away.

The questions went on like that, simple, obvious, obnoxious even. But they were what the magazine always went with. Basic background of his life, how he rose to fame, relationships.

You almost rolled your eyes asking about the last one, knowing no one ever gets anywhere asking Tom about women. His love life was a mystery, outside the Taylor Swift fiasco that you refused to even acknowledge.

Unscripted, you asked if what Shakespeare quote he most often lived by.

“Oh easy,” he said smoothly. He straightened up, locked eyes with you and coolly went on, “To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” You felt a flutter in the pit of your stomach. After swallowing hard to calm down, you took in a deep breath.

Tom straightened his jacket, ready for the end of the questionnaire. He knew it was coming, knew it from days of preparing with the email from his agent. You bit your lip seeing him shuffle slightly, his long fingers fiddling away at the button of his blazer. You looked back down at your laptop and clicked a different folder. You eyes went back to Tom. He was watching you again, his eyes low, his expression unreadable.

“Do you think that your character, Loki, would be abnormally sexual?”

Tom’s hand came up to cover his face as he made a snorting sound while trying his damnedest to suppress a laugh. “I…” he stuttered, “Wow, I uh, that… Was that in the email?”

You bit your lip and looked down at your laptop again. “No, it’s not. And you don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable....” You felt a cold sweat form as you cursed yourself for asking such an explicit, unscripted question. You weren’t just some random interviewer from a Youtube channel or Comic Con. You came from a reputable magazine. You had certain guidelines to follow, a reputation to maintain.

While you went on your inward turmoil, Tom cleared his throat.

“I would say Loki is exceptionally sexual.” You felt your cheeks flush as you managed to look him in the eye. He had a mysterious smile on his face, no longer sitting back in the chair, but leaned in closer to you. “And I don’t believe it’s far-fetched to say I….” Tom corrected, “He would be quiet a deviant.”

You glanced down at your laptop, knowing you were pushing the envelope. “Would you think Loki likes to be submissive or dominant in the bedroom?”

Tom threw his head back, his laugh erupting from him. He shot you a half cocked grin before standing from his seat. You just knew he was about to end the interview and you had half a mind to ask if he would keep your fangirl questions secret.

But then he did something you weren’t expecting. He began to remove his jacket, even rolling up the sleeves of his button down shirt. Before you could fathom what it was he was doing, he was beside you on the couch, one arm wrapping around the back. Not quite touching you but obviously there.

“Oh, that’s a silly question, y/n, you know the answer to that one,” he said slowly in a low voice. You let out a sharp breath, feeling you heart begin to race again at how close he was. “I want to be your king.” He closed his eyes and turned away as he laughed at his own words, realizing what he had said.

You laughed along with him, though you knew you were so nervous your hands were shaking on the keyboard as you stared at the screen, unable to face him. “So if you…” correction, “He is dominant, what do you think is his favorite move? Seduction wise?”

He ran fingers over his beard, thinking for a moment. “Hmm…” he hummed. “Oh that is a tough one.” His eyes came back to you, analyzing you. “I would say,” his finger brushed your knee where your skirt stopped, “Loki would want something intimate.” Slowly, he brushed up your leg, speaking in his sultry voice, “I would want it slow. Painfully slow. Something to build the tension. Watch your body ache with need.” He was halfway up your thigh, still going. You wondered if he realized he had said ‘I’ again. “All because, deep down, the main purpose would be to make you beg me to give you what you really want. What you really need.” Your eyes watched eagerly without pulling away, almost daring and hoping he would continue.

Instead he stopped, smiling at you as you felt your blush deepen. You let out a sharp chuckle, absolutely embarrassed at yourself for wanting him to go on. Almost absurdly casual you deflected with, “How often do you find yourself forgetting you’re not actually Loki?”

He stopped laughing. His grin turned sly, his eyes darkened. Tom leaned in and retorted with his trademark villain voice, “What makes you think I’m not really Loki?”

You felt a shiver down your spine, letting out a rigid laugh. When he didn’t laugh as well, you finally looked at him.

Sitting on the couch, in head to toe costume, complete with the black hair extensions, black and green leather garb, heavy boots and devilish grin, sat Tom as Loki. You were so startled you cursed, jumping from the seat, dropping your laptop on the floor.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, completely flustered now. You felt on edge but let out a laugh regardless. “Oh, shit, I can’t believe you did that! You…” You looked around, waiting to see either a stunt double or the real Tom step out. But no one appeared. “...got me.”

It was a joke, wasn’t it?

Loki stood, his smile widening. He only took one step and he was upon you, looking down into your eyes, his glee never wavering. His hand came up to slightly lift your chin, not so much to make you look at him. You were already doing that. It was to show you he was truly there, he was truly in control. A panic ran through you but your mind still didn’t conceive what was happening.

“How did you set this up?” you asked, your voice threatening to crack under each word. “I didn’t even see anyone in the hotel room, how did you manage a switch like that….”

“Oh come now, y/n. You know exactly how I did this.” His fingers traced along your jaw, up your cheek, gently tucking your hair behind your ear. Your eyes were wide, your mind arguing within itself of what you knew to be real versus what you were seeing now.

You stepped back, letting his hand fall from you. “This isn’t funny,” you managed. But you backed into another person, it was so instant you didn’t even realize he had already vanished from before you. Before you could turn, Loki’s arms wrapped around you, a hand over your mouth to stifle your whimper, the other bringing you tightly against him. Despite yourself you felt a twist in the pit of your stomach, a scream inside of you that wanted more.

His lips brushed your ear as he whispered your name, asking, “With your provocative questions, my darling, I am simply curious. What are you willing to do to satisfy your king?”

Part 2 is UP

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#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x oc #marvel fanfiction #marvel smutt #marvel #loki (marvel)#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #avengers

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evangelineartemiasamos · 6 years

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Red Queen Secret Santa 2018 for Rhia @redqueenfandom <3

A/N: A modern AU, a sequel to the ones I wrote before. I wanted to place this in Paris at first, but then I thought I should rather write about a place where I’ve been to – although my memories aren’t that perfect^^° I’m sorry for eventual inaccuracies.

A New Place

Growing Up

The Dinner

Roman Holiday

The Wedding

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Roman Holiday

Mare POV

It’s eleven in the evening when I can call it a day on christmas eve. I put away my apron and slip into my coat and scarf and step outside of the café and onto the streets of Rome, bright with lights, filled with people, bells sounding over me.

Astounding that I hardly need the coat, despite the time and season. But this is a warm place, making it even more of a magnet for tourists coming to flee the winter or to experience christmas surrounded by supposedly more holiness than at home, wherever it is.

I’m not sure whether I should call myself one of them. I’m still a foreigner like them, frequently overwhelmed by Rome’s grandeur and age and visiting its endless sights. But then again, I make my living by serving tourists currently.

Four months into my gap year, I’m spending the winter in Italy, working as a help or assistant in various institutions, first in the cheaper countryside, now in the capital. I was tempted to see the festive spectacle, to be honest, that I’m putting up the higher costs of coming here. Fortunately, my room is affordable enough, but nothing I��d like to stay in for longer than a few days for that price. I knew what I was getting into, I guess, so I’m here to make an experience of it.

Truly, it is one. The ancientness of the city, the marks of history and art everywhere, often pull at my suspension of disbelief until I can take it for real. The more I stay, I’m starting to wonder if I’ll normalize the marvels one moment, no longer able to take it all in as much as it deserves. But I don’t intend to stay that long. I’m here to travel and see the world, and my next stations are waiting. Because for all its greatness, Rome’s also tiring, exhausting me.

There’s a price for a year of travelling, and that is hard, ever-shifting, and often boring work. It isn’t difficult to find jobs when you’re a native English and Spanish speaker in places full of tourists. Interpreters are good to have and I’ve a talent for languages, so my Italian improves by the day. The café I currently work at seems to have mostly foreign customers talking English, but to encounter the barriers of languages, from one foreigner to another, leaves a strange impression. Words get jumbled and guesses have to be made all the time and I try to smile away the stress. I hope that eases the work as well as raise my tips.

Although I’ve understood the processes of applying and have some reserves at hand by now, a consequence of the gap year is a constant worry of having nothing when I wake up next. It can eat at you no matter what, having to rely on yourself alone this much, but then again, it’s also the freedom I’ve craved. Whatever I do, I achieve it by myself. I can be proud of that. Doesn’t that mean I can manage everything?

Yet, it also means that often, I’m terribly alone. To be here, I’ve left behind my home, my friends, and my family. Now I’m meeting strangers every day, of whom each might become a new friend if I gave them the chance. It’s hard, the enduring newness of people and everything else. I can’t open myself up to them all the time, re-introduce myself and every part of me, can’t bring up the energy to translate all of their conversations in my head to take part in them. Thus, I frequently fall into myself and rest alone at the end of a long day full of work.

Tonight is such a time, or could be. It’s still christmas, but the loud and lively shift has destroyed pretty much of my festive mood. This is nothing like my little girl christmases and their inherent childhood magic. This is noise and exhaustion and unfamiliarity. It’s a feeling pulling me off the ground and I’m not willing to give in to it.

The streets around me roar as I scout for a quieter spot where I can sit down. Not easy to find here, as many are already taken, or dirty, or prohibited so traffic isn’t disturbed. But finally, I find a free building block close to the Pantheon. I get down on it and take a deep breath of the night air, letting my body relax as good as possible.

It’s not far from St. Peter where the greatest crowd will celebrate and if I weren’t so tired, I might go there to watch them, to get my own image of it. Shade would be offended to hear about this, as he’s always keen on calling out the catholic church and the pope especially. But I’d welcome his rant if I saw him in person again, like the rest of my family. I miss them so much, and curse once more my decision to stay abroad during christmas. The loneliness is cruel on this day, and the only thing I can do is getting my phone out and looking over their pictures and messages again. I do so every day and send replies back, but I delayed this today, hoped not thinking about them and being unaware about what I’m missing would make my shift more tolerable. That didn’t really work out. I just had a bad day that went to waste while everyone else around me is having fun.

So now I can be lonely while watching my family celebrating christmas. Tramy sells christmas trees and presents the fairy tale-like winter wonderland of the garden center he works at. Bree is with his girlfriend, both grinning and likely slightly inebriated, when Kilorn crashes their photos. Shade, despite his atheist statements, put outfits on his baby daughter Clara that make her look like an elf of Santa Claus and he stands arms in arm with Clara and Diana under a mistletoe that hangs over their door. In another, Diana, seriously studying an important-looking book, wears a silly blinking cap on her head, and in a second photo she hugs Clara besottedly as if in ignorance of a photo being taken.

Mom and Dad are similarly in love with their first grandchild and have tons of pictures with her, of Dad keeping her from crawling into the Christmas tree, or of Bree holding her up to pull on a pinata.

Gisa shines in these photos, too. Even on casual days, her outfits leave me so awed and envious of her style full of details and perfection achieved by her own ideas and efforts. One time, she’s wearing a black dress, a ball dress I almost think, and she looks so gorgeous in it that I don’t know whether to adore her or to be scared of her.

I sniff and swipe tears from my eyes. When I look back to the screen, my contacts are shown. My fingers must’ve slipped and I scroll back to find my family again, as I still have to send greetings and wishes. It’s christmas after all, and since it’s still afternoon over there, it must the perfect time for messages. Maybe even a call. Yes, I should make a call. Yet I stop searching when I see another name on the list.

Cal.

His profile photo seems to smile at me, and I feel myself smiling back at him automatically. At the boy I dated a few times back in the States. The silly, rich, hot and kind Cal who’d muttered something about christmas in Italy back then. How decadent, I thought. And now I’m actually here. I can’t resist the temptation and text “hey” to him.

“Merry christmas!” he texts back. “My parents wanted to visit the holy night in Rome and now we’re watching from our hotel balcony. Can you believe?” Added is a photo of the crowd on St. Peter.

I can’t help grinning like an utter fool.

“Guess what …” I write to him.

I drop hints for him about where to find me, not really expecting him to show up. Why should he, when he’s with his family on christmas eve? And yet, between messaging my family and joking with Kilorn about food, I glance over my appearance in more than one mirror or window to make sure I have nothing in my face.

I’m right at replying to Kilorn’s snarks when I almost bounce into someone. I’m fast enough to get out of reach, but make myself ready to rant back if necessary.

Light falls on his face, and I, silly me, recognize him as Cal, who’s really come to meet with me in the middle of the holy night.

“Merry christmas again, Mare,” he says.

I hesitate. I tuck my hair behind my ears nervously and chew on my lip as I look for words and my composure. But when I see his face, beaming with excitement, I laugh out loud and he laughs along with me. I go to him and in a blink, I stand before him and give him a hug. A friendly one, like I’d hug everyone, yet I don’t let go, and neither does he. I pull him closer, my hands pressing into his back as I step on my toes to kiss his – stubby – cheek and whisper “merry christmas,” into his ear.

He returns the kiss on the cheek.

And then he kisses me on the mouth.

It’s a surprise for both of us, but we don’t stop. Does it mean anything? Or is it just fun? He might be drunk although I’m not, only tired and in need of warmth and a familiar human body close to me.

We pull apart to draw breaths and don’t know what to do afterwards. We grin and laugh again. “We can ... walk a little?” he prompts and I agree and take his hand. With him at my side, I don’t feel so tired and lost. We’re two people enjoying christmas together in a beautiful city, and that changes everything.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” I say.

“Same here,” he replies. “Well, you said something about being in Italy during winter, and when my parents talked about travelling on Christmas, I put in an option or two …” He shrugs.

I elbow him softly. “Stalker,” I jest.

“Hey! It was still a surprise,” he objects and smirks. “And you called me.”

That’s true, but I’m unsure whether to tell him how needy I felt an hour before. It’s good as it is, should I dive deeper? We’re strolling through this ancient quarter, two people who might be in love during a lush night, like millions of other people must’ve done before. It doesn’t make me feel small, but incredibly connected and right where I belong tonight. Cal especially seems to fit in here perfectly. With his handsome face, the contrast of light skin and dark hair illuminated by the moonlight, he could be a mystical apparition rising from the ruins.

Oh god, I can never tell him that. He’d never shut up about it, and the idea is way to pagan for this night. Shade would be proud.

“What?” Cal nudges me and I shake my head a little too long just to win time. He frowns.

“You’re her with your family?” I ask eventually. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“I …” Bingo. “Ugh, right, that must sound ridiculous to you.” He’s completely flustered and it’s very endearing. “You’re here on your own,” he continues, “and I came here on a family trip like a big baby.”

I incline my head, the corner of my mouth twitching. He doesn’t offer me a chance to reply though.

“However, it does mean something to me.” His hand squeezes mine, possibly inadvertently, as his voice gains a serious edge. “My parents often went on trips with me, of course. But this is the first my half-brother is with us.”

I stand still.

“Mare?” Cal asks. I don’t react. “Mare, your mouth’s open till the Alps,” he says.

A shiver washes over me and I look up to him. His confused face likely mirrors mine. “Mare, didn’t I tell you about my brother? Who’s lived with his mother?”

I nod gravely.

“You see, as I’ve told you, we met at the same college. And somehow, we got along surprisingly well. I was so glad, you know? I think Maven is, too.”

“That’s great.” I smile faintly.

“Indeed, so after a few months, we decided to go on vacation together, as a family. And Maven loves Rome.”

I can easily imagine him, standing in a museum or on the capitol hill among paintings and statues and looking like a mischievous fallen angel himself. “Oh, absolutely,” I say aloud. Only that that deeply puzzles Cal, because he doesn’t know that I know Maven personally, that we were friends and a couple for years. I’ve only learned by accident that he’s Cal’s half-brother.

Now I have no idea how to tell Cal this so late. Seems like Maven didn’t tell him either. I wonder if he figured out who Cal is meeting tonight.

Cal still isn’t enlightened and I take both of his hands and know I have to confess. I look into his beautiful eyes, golden like fire, like light. “I’ve been friends with Maven for a long time,” I say. More than friends. “Until last year.”

If I leave it at this, I’ll never be able to finish. So I go on. “We were together for a while,” I say quietly, and speaking feels like lifting a ton. “As a couple.”

Cal gasps for words. I Iay a finger on his lips. “But that’s over. I’m just glad, really happy, that he is doing well and getting along with you.”

Relief washes over Cal and I’m sure he’ll have to digest this for some time. His hands wriggle in mine, loosen, and wander over my arms to my shoulders. He rubs them and I don’t want him to stop and he doesn’t, as he’s still at loss for words.

I stretch to give him a light kiss. He chuckles. “And I thought about asking you to come with me tonight …”

“Oh, how scandalous.” I tease back, hands on my hips.

“Yes, it’d be awkward for several reasons.”

I shake my head. “Not tonight, “I say with a sigh, a promise ringing in my voice.

He catches the note and smiles. His palms remain a caressing, welcome presence on my back, and I take the final step to embrace him. He pulls me even closer, bending down to my ear. “I’d say I’m looking forward for another time, Mare,” he mumbles, turning my name into a tender touch. “But whenever I let go of you and say ‘goodbye for now’, you vanish in a flash, fast as lightning.”

“I – ”

He kisses the top of my head. “I want to meet you again. I want to get to know you – for real.”

His eyes burn with intensity, his arms feel like a home. So under an infinite black sky, bells tolling around us in a city of legends, I whisper a time and place into his ear. “I’ll be there, I promise.” My hand rests on his cheek. “It’s my christmas present to you.”

@merrymareshmallow @clarafarleybarrow @inopinion @lilyharvord @elliemarchetti (gosh I just hope I did get Italy mostly right) @eurydicel @sarcasm-and-procrastination @marecalrandomstuff @calmareforever @choosemarecal

#red queen secret santa 2018 #red queen #marecal #cal calore #maven calore #mare barrow #red queen fan fiction #victoria aveyard #rq ss 2018 #red queen secret santa #roman holiday #rq modern au #christmas fic

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weelittleweasley · 7 years

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Sleeping with the Enemy Pt 2 | Sweet Pea x Reader

Prompt:To take down the enemy, it is best to hit them at the epicenter. But when love complicates things, will you know how to make the situation right again?

Warnings: cursing, smut (at last)

A/N: Part two in the four part series!! If you have not read part one, please do so here :) Thank you for the positive feedback so far. Please tell me if you like so by replying to the message or dropping something off in my inbox!

Exiting the building of Riverdale High, you check your phone for at least the twentieth time for the day to see yet another text from your brother. Meet me at House of the Dead. We need to talk about strategics. You roll your eyes and huff your backpack over both shoulders, walking down the front stairs. It was only your first day back at school and you had no idea you would be bombarded with this much homework. Malachai signed you up for all AP classes and honors courses--basically the same schedule you had at your old school. Only now, you don’t remember the material since you haven’t been in a school setting for over a year. This was gonna be a rough year. “Y/N!” you hear your voice being called out as you walk down the dirt road.

When you turn to face the voice, Toni is jogging up to you. “Hi, what’s up?” you smile at her, waiting for her to catch up with you. She meets your pace and the two of you start to walk away from the building together.

She then speaks, “Do you need a ride home? Fangs has his car today and he can drive you. Or you can come back to hang with you if you want.” Toni was very sweet to offer you a ride back and it would save you a twenty or more minute walk to the House of the Dead. But if they dropped you off there, the whole plan would fall to pieces and it hasn’t even been in action for twenty four hours.

Responding, you thank her and say, “That’s nice of you, Tones. But I need the exercise. I’m sure I’ll hit you guys up for a ride another time.” Twenty minute walk here you come.

“Don’t be silly. You have to walk all the way back to the South Side! Come with us to our hang out spot. It’s the Whyte Wyrm. All Serpents hang there to just play pool and talk. If you decide it’s not your scene, everything on the South Side is about a five to ten minute walk from there,” Toni bargains with you. She did have a point. Also, going to the Whyte Wyrm would give you more of an insight to the life style and some secrets that the Serpents were hiding. Finally, you accept the offer as Toni smiles. “Great. This way,” she grabs your hand, leading you to the parking lot where Fangs waits in the car with Sweet Pea in the passenger seat.

As you walk to the car, you can see Sweet Pea roll his eyes at the sight of you and then whisper something to Fangs. My God, you think to yourself. Does this kid have a problem with everyone? “Hop in, ladies,” Fangs smiles as you give him one back. You and Toni squeeze into the back seat before Fangs takes off, leaving the North Side.

Alternative music plays from the car radio underneath the chatter of Toni and Fangs as you stare out the window, looking at the scenery passing by. You had to admit: the North Side of town was very pretty. All of the houses were clean and well kept, the yards lush with green grass and potted plants. You watched as younger children got off school buses and ran to their mother’s arms as they embraced them close. It made you smile, thinking about your mother and what she was like when you and Malachai were younger. Where your family wasn’t involved with gangs, when you were happy and carefree. Life was pure bliss.

Continuing your trek to the South Side of town, you notice the shift in scenery and dynamic. Compared to the North Side, the South Side was much dirtier and less aesthetically pleasing. Houses were dilapidated and abandoned by its owners as ivy crawled up the sides and stray cats sat on the porches. But to you, this was home. It has been for seventeen years. Although it may seem dangerous and dirty on the exterior, once you get to know the South Side and live in it, it is the complete opposite. “Let’s go, losers,” Toni says as Fangs parks the car in front of the bar. The four of you exit the car and walk into the bar. As you do so, your ears are greeted with the sounds of classic rock and the scents of musk and alcohol--similar to those of the House of the Dead.

Oh shit. Malachai. Quickly, you whip out your phone and type a quick message to your brother. Give me twenty minutes. Change of plans, will explain later. Tucking your phone back in your pocket, you look up to see Sweet Pea in front of you, stripping his polo shirt. “Get this fucking thing off of me. I feel like a god damn douche bag wearing this,” he spits. With one swift motion, his polo and his turtleneck are off, revealing his toned body. You inhale slowly at the sight of his bare upper half. His back muscles were defined perfectly and his arms were incredibly toned. You can hear Toni laugh behind you as you stare at Sweet Pea, but you legitimately could not take your eyes off of him. He grabs a black t-shirt from behind the bar, tossing it on to cover himself as you exhale, wishing he would have taken longer to find that article of clothing. “Fangs. You and me. Pool.”

“Alright, well, Y/N. Welcome to the Wyrm. It’s not much, but it’s uh...it’s not much,” Toni laughs as you join in. “Come, I’ll get you a drink and we can chill on the couch. Jughead should be coming soon, too.”

For the next few minutes, you and Toni chat on the couch and honestly, it was so nice to talk so relaxed with someone. You had these kinds of talks with Adriana, but not like this. You always feared that Malachai would barge into one of your conversations, exposing your intimate talks with Adriana. But here, Malachai wasn’t a thought. It was just you and Toni. Like promised, Jughead comes into the Wyrm and everyone greets him. You knew about Jughead Jones and the reputation he had; all was told to you by your brother. His father, FP, was the Serpent King. People worshiped the ground he walked on. This made Jughead the prince, but you could tell that Jughead had to work a little more for that same respect. Regardless, Jughead was a nice guy and he joined in on your and Toni’s conversation. The three of you crack a few jokes and share in each other’s joy in that short time period. As for the plan, it would be every easy to get information out of them. The two of them were trusting, trusting to a fault. This would be easier than I thought.

Your phone buzzes next to you as you pick it up to read the screen. It’s been almost two hours. Where in the fuck are you?? “Shit,” you breathe out as your two friends look at you. “I gotta go, guys. I wish I could stay longer, but my brother is up my ass about getting home and getting some work done,” you tell them as you gather up your things to make your exit.

Toni and Jughead both start to walk you out, but a voice calls from behind. “Can’t handle this side of town already, princess?” Just the nickname he has given you makes your blood boil. When you turn around to look at him, he leans up against the bar with a shit eating grin on his face. “Or is it because you just wanna get away from me?”

Before you can respond with your own snarky comment, Toni pushes you out of the bar, knowing you will start something in there with him that no one wants to see. “What the fuck is wrong with him?” you say, loud enough for him to hear even though you were outside already. Toni shakes her head as Jughead closes the door. “Whatever. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, aight?” Your two friends wave goodbye as you start to make the trek to see your brother and the other Ghoulies that have been awaiting your arrival.

Walking through the front door of the House of the Dead, you are greeted with Malachai yelling, “Y/N, get in here!” Rolling your eyes, you walk into the other room, dropping your back pack to the floor. In the lounge room, your brother, Adriana, and a few other Ghoulies stand there looking at you. “We have been waiting for you for the past two hours. What the fuck have you been doing?”

“For your information, I’ve been at the Whyte Wyrm with a whole bunch of other Serpents. They all invited me over to hang out. I thought it would be a good idea to hang out with them, get them comfortable around me, so when we strike, they won’t see it coming,” you inform him. You can see his anger quell at your excuse. You were completely right. Making sure they were comfortable enough to trust you with small information would ensure they could eventually trust you with much larger information. “And silence fell over the valley,” you joke, plopping yourself onto the couch, plucking the cigarette from Malachai’s fingers into your mouth to take a drag.

Malachai leans himself against the table and cracks his knuckles. “Good job, sweetheart. But this doesn’t mean they’ll tell you everything tomorrow. You need to keep up the pretense that you are their friend,” he explains. His words make your heart sink a little. You were actually starting to like the Serpents, minus Sweet Pea. Befriending them was the least of your worries. “Now as for this seduction. Have you picked a contender?”

Groaning, you throw your head backwards. This was not something you looked forward to talk to with your brother of all people. “M, I’ll take care of this,” Adriana says. “Y/N, is there any possible guy that is easy?” she asks.

Adriana seats herself next to you on the couch as Malachai and the others listen intently. “There’s one kid who is nice. He’d probably be the easiest, but I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship or anything that I’d try to offer,” you refer to Fangs. “The other one...a complete dick. I’m talking about an emotionally callous sociopath. He’s fucking gorgeous, don’t get me wrong. But God, there is no way I’m gonna be able to crack him,” you then refer to Sweet Pea. That boy was a complete mystery. He seemed kind enough to his friends, cracking jokes with Fangs on the car ride home and wrapping a protective arm around Toni’s shoulders here and there. But with you, he was stand off-ish, rude and just a nasty person. How the hell were you gonna make this kid fall in love with you by the end of the year?

She grabs your hands and squeezes them before Malachai can scold you. “Y/N, we never said this was going to be easy. We knew going in that this would be a long shot, but we picked you for a reason. I know you can do this. All of us do,” she encourages you as you give her a soft smile. “For the next few days, try to send him some flirtatious signals. Get him warmed up to you. It will take a while for him to get comfortable around you by the way you describe him, but I’m sure you can make something happen between the two of you.”

Looking around the room, you meet the eyes of fellow Ghoulies that all look at you with soft smiles. You knew they trusted you to get the job done. Sighing and nodding your head, you say, “Alright. How do I get this asshole to want me?” With that, you spend the rest of the night devising ways to get Sweet Pea to change his attitude towards you.

A week and a half passes and there has been little to no progress with Sweet Pea. You tried to talk to him more, be flirty, dress differently, hang out around him more, but nothing worked. In fact, the more attention you gave him, the more emotionally detached he became. Toni eventually noticed that you had a “crush” on Sweet Pea and she tried to do her best to make him pick up and signals. But he refused and kept on being the same distant ass he was. As you sat down at the lunch table with Toni, you threw your head on the table, groaning which caused her and Fangs to laugh. “Rough day?” she asks.

“More like rough week,” you answer. “Is he oblivious or is he choosing to ignore all of these signals I’m throwing at him?” Toni shrugs as she continues to steal the grapes from your brown bagged lunch. “I’ve tried absolutely everything! My clothes, my personality, my overall demeanor. What the fuck am I doing wrong?”

Fangs screws the cap of his water bottle on and starts, “Listen, Y/N. You’re a very pretty girl and you’re very smart and kind. If Sweets can’t notice that...” he looks around before speaking the next line, “he’s not worth it.”

You laugh at Fangs and smile. Over the past week, you and Fangs have gotten a lot closer. At first, you didn’t think you’d hit it off with him, but the more you realized how nice of a person he was. Much more kind and respectful than Pea. “Thanks, Fangs. But I just can’t help, but feel like I can make this work. I know I can,” you bite your nails. If you didn’t make this work, there were going to be worse consequences than not having a boyfriend.

Just then, Toni slaps Fangs arms. “I got it! Friday!” she says as Fangs snaps his fingers. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by what that could mean. “This Friday, Jughead convinced Tall Boy to give him the bar to throw a party for the Serpents. Just inner circle friends. I’m sure he’d be fine with you coming. Sweets will be there and there will be a lot of alcohol. I’m sure that something can happen that night!”

This was perfect. A party was the perfect social situation to loosen both you and Sweet Pea up and you could try to make a move then. “I’m in,” you smile as they high five. When Friday rolled around, you knew that things were gonna start happening and start happening fast.

And before you knew it, Friday was here and you were more nervous than ever. Not just because of the party, but if you fucked things up tonight there would be no recovery. As you stood in Toni’s bedroom, you fixed your low cut blouse in the mirror, the black leathery material clinging to your figure nicely. She stood behind you and smiled, “You look hot as fuck. There is nothing to worry about Sweets is going to be throwing himself at you tonight.” Smiling at her in the mirror, you sigh. “Alright, let’s get out of here. I need a shot already.”

When you get to the Whyte Wyrm, the place is crawling with Serpents and a few non-Serpents. You see Jughead brought along Betty who sends you a sweet smile from across the room. Scanning the room again, you spot Sweet Pea with Fangs, laughing with some other Serpents in matching jackets. He sips from a red solo cup which you can only imagine is filled with some sort of liquor or beer. Everyone was drinking tonight and you were about to join that pool. “I need a drink,” you say immediately as Toni laughs.

“Perfect. Come on, I know just what to give you,” she pulls you to the bar and tells the young boy behind the counter two of the same drink orders. He hands you both a red solo cup each filled with a red liquid. “Cheers,” she clinks your cups as you take a sip. The drink tastes of sour cherry and a shit load of vodka. You knew that this would be going down too easy and your hang over tomorrow would be unforgiving. “Let’s go dance!”

The whole night, you drink way too many vodka sours, you dance with your friends, and just have a overall good time. The only thing missing was your interaction with Sweet Pea. Ever since you came, he stood in the same corner with the same few people, playing pool, and sipping from that damn red solo cup. You had to admit, he looked so good tonight. He wore a blood red shirt with his Serpent jacket over top. His hair was perfectly gelled, one piece falling into the center of his forehead. There was no denying that he was handsome which just made you even more frustrated that he wasn’t picking up on the obvious signals you threw his way. You watch him as he walks to the bar and you excuse yourself from the conversation you were having with Jughead and Betty.

You hear him order another beer as you walk next to him. The other bartender asks you what you want and you order yet another vodka sour, making this your fifth. “That’s gonna come back to bite you in the ass tomorrow,” Sweet Pea speaks as you look up at him smiling.

Be cool. “A decision I won’t regret,” you tease as you notice the small smile teasing on his lips. “You look good tonight,” you flirt as the bartender hands you two your drinks as you walk together to the back of the bar.

Sweets looks at you, “Thanks. So do you,” he replies as you smile. Alright, maybe we’re getting somewhere. “Why did you come here tonight, princess? I thought you’d wanna keep your distance from me,” he says, leaning against the wall as you stand in front of him.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart race in your chest. This never happened to you when you would talk to Pea before. Why was it happening now? He bit his lip as you searched for a response, you could feel his eyes raking you up and down. “Why would I wanna stay away from you? I think your interesting,” you flirt, fixing the lapel on his leather jacket watching his expression in your peripheral vision. A smirk dances on his lips as you bite your lips. Fuck, he was so hot. “The question I have for you is why aren’t you treating me like the dick you usually are?”

He laughs, “I’m not a dick towards you.” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Or at least I’m not consciously trying to be a dick towards you.” His comment makes you laugh harder. “Seriously! I’m sorry you took it that way,” he says before taking a sip from his cup. He watched your expression as a smirk played on your lips. “You’re hard to read, Newbie.”

“Look whose talking,” you tease as he smirks. “I don’t like beating around the bush, Pea,” you flat out tell him as his eyes widen. “What’s the deal?”

You can see his jaw clench and him gulp. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, sucking on it nervously, waiting for his response. He leans over to whisper in your ear and says, “There’s a room upstairs.”

Bingo.

He pulls away and you have a smirk on your face. He lets out a deep laugh as he grabs your hand, guiding you upstairs. The two of you leave your drinks behind as you make eye contact with Toni, sending her a wink. A huge smile comes across her face as she relays the message to Fangs as you disappear up the staircase with Sweet Pea leading. As he promised, there is a singular bedroom upstairs with a small bathroom. You two enter as you scan the room. It has one bed, a dresser with the bathroom in the left corner. Not much to it.

You hear him close the door and you turn around to see him taking off his jacket, tossing it on the bed. His movements to you are slow as your anticipation grows. Sweets slinks an arm around your waist as he leans close to your face, lips just brushing up against each other. “Show me what you want,” he whispers against your lips.

With that, you press your lips against his feverishly, tangling your fingers in his raven locks. His lips are warm and soft, tasting of cheap beer. His hands gripped your waist forcefully, pulling you into his body, craving contact. His tongue brushed against your lip as you opened your mouth to deepen your kiss. Sweets’ hands roamed freely on your body before ripping your top off. “You picked this one out just to tease me, didn’t you?” he growls as you laugh. He attacks your neck with wet kisses, biting and sucking on the delicate flesh. You can’t help but let out a moan at the sensation and he laughs against your skin, making your hairs stand. He had the power to make you weak in the knees with one swift action.

Sweet Pea proceeds to pull of his shirt before you continue to kiss, now pressing your bodies against each other, the skin on skin contact feeling absolutely euphoric to you. You strip down to just your bra and underwear as he bites his lip hard, for a moment thinking he was going to draw blood. “Fuck, baby girl,” he whispers as you sit on the bed, him crawling on top of you, peppering kisses down your neck, collarbone, and the valley between your breasts. Slowly and ever so teasingly, he trails his fingers down your stomach to your panties as he feels your core as you can’t help, but whimper at the touch. “So wet already? You’ve waited for me quite some time, princess,” he teases before pulling your underwear down your legs. “Patience is rewarded.” Your stomach is in knots with anticipation as you hold your breath, waiting for him.

Slowly, he inserts one finger inside as you arch your back. It wasn’t nearly enough as you craved more and more of him. “Please, Pea. Holy fuck,” you practically beg as he laughs. Obeying, he inserts another digit as you moan, him pumping his fingers in and out, slowly warming you up. He starts to pick up speed, pumping his fingers faster before entering a third digit as you moan again, louder. He loves the sounds you make in reaction to his touch. “Fuck, Pea,” you moan as he traces lazy circles on your clit with his thumb, driving you crazy. He sends you over the edge as he picks up the pace as this hot tongue licks up your core as you cry out in pleasure. You hold onto the sheets, your grip tight. He doesn’t stop, but keeps fingering, licking, and teasing until you feel that familiar sensation boiling in the pit of your stomach as you release all over his lips and fingers.

You start to catch your breath as he licks his fingers before removing his pants. He reaches over to the night stand, grabbing a condom from the drawer. He must have brought girls up here before. “I can’t wait any longer,” he pants as he rolls on the condom, you biting your lip hard. He balances himself above you as he lines up with your entrance. He dips his head down to your ear and whispers, “Fuck, I’ve wanted you for what feels like forever.” As he speaks, he pushes his erect member inside of you as you both moan, loving the way each other feels. He gives you a minute to adjust to his size before moving. His rhythm is slow and steady at first, but he starts to pick up his speed. “You feel amazing,” he groans, kissing your neck as you sigh, dragging your fingernails down his toned back. He loves the feeling of scratching his back as he groans louder.

“Shit,” you pant and he picks up his pace. “I’m so close.” The both of you are in waves of pleasure and that same feeling in the pit of your stomach returns. As you climax, he continues to thrust before finishing himself. “Fuck.”

Sweet Pea climbs off of you and lays next to you. “Yeah,” he pants out as you laugh. You can’t even think of anything and how if you reported back to Malachai right now he would be talking about how you are one step closer to success. You’re too busy thinking about what just happened and how incredible it was.

He gets off the bed, pulling back on his boxers as you sit up to watch him. He hands you his tee as you smile, tossing it on. “We can crash here tonight if you want. Jughead is gonna shut down the party soon enough,” he tells you before he crawls back into bed. You didn’t think he was going to be the one to cuddle, but your thoughts were shut down as he pulls you by your waist closer to him. Sweets plants a kiss to your shoulder blade before whispering in your ear, “You’re not getting away that easily, princess.” You giggle as you can feel him smile against your back. “Goodnight.”

The morning comes and like you joked about last night, you hang over was god awful. The pounding sensation in your head was wicked and you craved a cold towel to be pressed against your forehead. Groaning, you sit up, expecting to see Pea by your side but instead, there is an empty space. He must be downstairs you think. You slowly rise from the bed, grabbing your phone, careful not to arouse any nausea as you take a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. On the base of your neck lay a large hickey as you can’t help but laugh. You knew that was coming.

Slowly, you walk down the stairs back to the bar level. Sitting on the couch is Fangs who has a large smirk plastered on his face. “Well, you had a fun night, didn’t you?” he laugh as you roll your eyes, sitting on the bar, resting your head against the cool metal pole as you sigh out.

“Beat it, asshat,” you hear Pea’s voice sound as he exits the kitchen, carrying a water bottle with him. Fangs rolls his eyes before exiting to the kitchen. Sweets walks over to you, a small smile playing on his lips. He hands you the water bottle as you place the cool plastic bottle on your head, sighing in relief. He laughs, “Drink it. Trust me, you’re gonna need it.” You let out a small laugh as he places his hand on your bare knee. “Sleep well?”

You nod and place the water bottle down next to you. “Last night was...”

“Fucking great,” he finishes as you smile and nod in agreement. “So, when am I taking you out?” he asks as you let out a laugh. You were in.

Smiling, you press a soft kiss to his lips. “Anytime, tough guy,” you wink as he laughs. He presses his lips back to yours again as you place your hands on his bare shoulders, pulling him closer. He excuses himself to go get a shirt as you pull out your phone, sending Malachai a text. I have news. Big news. Be ready in an hour.

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x reader au #sweet pea au #riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale au #riverdale cast #cw riverdale #toni topaz #bughead #riverdale bughead #fangs fogarty #southside serpents #southside serpents imagine #jordan connor

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worldbestdiy · 4 years

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DIY | How to Decorate With Metallics in the Bedroom | DIY | How to Decorate With Green

DIY Projects | How to Decorate With Green inspiring ideas DIY

DIY | How to Decorate With Metallics in the Bedroom | Creative DIY Project Ideas Are you ready to give your home a quick update? We are loving furniture and decor with metallic accents. Give your home a subtle Accessorize sparingly: too much metallic can be overwhelming so go for one stand out piece as the headlining embellishment in the room.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

It’s Time to Decorate With Metallics in the Bedroom

Almost every decorating style benefits from a little touch of bling — shiny metallics that add light, glamour, and a touch of luxe to the bedroom.

As with most strong decorative elements, however, a little bit of metallic goes a long way.

So whether you only want a hint of metal, or you want an entire wall of shine, these ten bedrooms will show you how to do metallic right.

If you’re going to use wallpaper on an accent wall, you might as well put the emphasis on “accent.” This gorgeous metallic wallpaper overlays a pale silver base with gold, bronze, and pewter leafy fronds.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

It’s dramatic, yet not overbearing. If you don’t like mixed metals, there are many single-metal wallpapers available that are equally lovely.

Wow! The design might be simple, but the bright copper of this bed is a showstopper.

The copper drawer pulls and the bedside lamp ties the space together and adds further shine to a room that is actually very simply furnished. The fuzzy white pendant lights add a touch of whimsy, while the gleaming comforter is a final touch of bling in a room that combines glamour and minimalism beautifully. This Moroccan-inspired bedroom has plenty of exotic charm, but it’s the metallic gold curtains framing the matte gold, ornately-carved screen at the head of the bed that make it look like the sleeping quarters of a Moroccan princess. Golden curtains might be a bit too much for most bedrooms, but neutral curtains with a metallic design would work in any room. One of the most traditional styles of bed, particularly in cottage, country or coastal décor, is a brass bed. Although this warm metal fell out of favor for a while after the shiny excesses of the 1980s, it’s back in a big way. If a brass bed isn’t your style, it’s still very easy to work this versatile metal into your bedroom — look for picture frames, curtain rods, or a sunburst mirror.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

Mixing contemporary style with retro glamour, this bedroom shows how to do silver right.

The oversize tufted headboard, with its pale silver upholstery that complements the bed, is luxurious enough on its own.

but by adding in the silver mirrored bedside tables, silver lamps, and silvery-gray wallpaper, this bedroom takes glamour to a whole new level.

With an unexpected palette of brown, black, and aqua, this bedroom is already lovely. But it’s the two golden poufs at the foot of the bed that really add the “Wow!” to space.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

Add a touch of bling to your own bedroom with a similar ottoman: gold or silver would work equally well.

Notice the gold dots on the wall at the head of the bed — there’s no need for a headboard when your wall is this dazzling.

Who said you have to have a white ceiling? Instead, do something entirely unexpected, and paint your ceiling a warm, gleaming copper. This stunning look is created with a base of red paint and an overcoat of metallic copper specialty paint.

The nightstand shown here might be a very traditional French style, but the silver metallic finish is anything but old-fashioned.

This bedroom shows how easy it is to liven up traditional style with a touch of metallic — and yet, nothing here is overdone or tacky. This is the elegant side of silver.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

You’ll feel like royalty sleeping in a bed outfitted with golden sheets and a gorgeous metallic gold floral-patterned comforter. But it doesn’t stop there — check out the gold bedside table and the gold lamp.

What keeps this room from looking garish are the simplicity of the palette — just gold and cream — and the simple lines of the furniture.

What a serene, soft, and simple bedroom. The cozy palette of soft blushing peach, silvery gray, and the lightest tint of sage green is very soothing and quiet.

When color is this muted, however, there is always a risk of monotony. Not a chance of that in this room.

However — not with the simple yet striking copper pendant light and the open-weave copper table by the bed. They provide just enough shine to create contrast without taking anything away from the overall tranquil feel of the room.

It’s Time to Decorate With Metallics in the Bedroom.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

Green is the color of life, of renewal, prosperity, and harmony. learn how to use it strategically and stylishly. Decorating in green has endless possibilities.

What Type of Color is Green?

Green is one of those colors that can be both trendy and traditional. An earthy hue that evokes images of lush grass and fresh air, green is a color that easily brings the outdoors in.

green belongs to the wood element and is a calming, balancing color that is all about fresh, new beginnings and renewal.

It can be both warm and cool, depending on the shade, but often lands more on the cooler spectrum.

You’ll often find other cool shades that derive the “coolness” from green undertones.

But while the majority of greens are cool, there’s a wide variety in green and will often feel vastly different depending on the room and natural light.

The Basics of Decorating With Green

Whether you want to paint your walls green or invest in an eye-catching piece of green furniture, the shade of green you should opt for depends entirely on the mood you want to set and the space you are trying to fill.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

Dark Green

Dark, jewel-toned green is the perfect backdrop for a moody living room or bedroom. It instantly creates a sense of elegance and class, no matter the size of the space.

will appear smokey and rich, it’s a great choice for a larger space that needs grounding or an accent wall behind a bed.

Muted Green

On the other hand, a lighter pastel or muted green will make a room appear light and airy. It’s a comfortable shade, perfect for guest bedrooms or office spaces.

will create a sense of tranquility and peace in a bedroom or bathroom and acts as an updated neutral.

This shade is also a great choice for bedding in a minimalistic room as a way to add a little color without taking away from the original palette.

Vintage landscapes will also often draw from muted greens and can be a great way to add the color into your Mid-century modern or eclectic style home.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

Warm Green

When it comes to decorating with warm greens, look for shades with a yellow or orange undertone.

It’s a great choice for any space you want to add a little more color without coming off too bold.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

Colors That Go With Green

The greatest thing about green is that pairing it with other colors is easy because there are so many shades of green.

Pair crisp, linen-like whites with a deep moody green is a great way to add contrast and visual interest in space while keeping the feel fresh and modern.

For a super jewel-toned room, mix rich earthy shades of green with deep navy blues and burgundies.

This palette is perfect for large living spaces with room to experiment. Look for vintage Turkish-style rugs that pull in rich, deep colors.

Using the color green in home decor can add an earthy, grounded feel to any space.

Plus, unlike some other bold colors, green can lend itself well to many different color palettes and appear both calming and energetic at the same time.

DIY Project Details: worldbestdiy.com.blog

#Homemade DIY Projects DIY Handmade Creative DIY Project Ideas

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makingofprocrustes · 4 years

Text

The new Procrustes script;

New Script – Procrustes

Facetime

4 friends talking

‘Ghost story’ of Procrustes

*Texts*

Char: Hey guys facetime?

Han: Sure

Rhy: Yeah give me 5 minutes then I’ll join

Chloe: Yeah

*Facetime opens*

(Hannah and Charlotte having a ‘girly’ gossip.)

Han: Hey Char, where’s the girls?

Char: I'll text them now.

Han: Have you seen Chloe’s new boyfriend?

Char: No show me.

(Hannah shows a photo on her phone).

Char: Aww.

Han: I know right.

(Chloe & Rhyanna join video chat.)

Han: Hey.

Char: Hey.

Chlo: Hey.

Rhy: Hey.

Chloe: So, what were you guys talking about?

(Hannah & Charlotte Laugh Hysterically)

Han: So, Chloe, who's the new boy?

Char: You have a different one every week.

Rhy: Who? You didn’t tell me.

Chloe: Well, I mean I don’t have to tell you guys everything.

Rhy: We’re supposed to be best friends?

Chloe: What’s it got to do with you anyway?

Han: Girls, just stop.

Char: Anyways, You gals alright?

Rhy: Yah. OMG have you seen all this drama on Instagram between Cara Delevingne, Justin Bieber and Hailey Bieber??

Chloe: No of course I haven’t, I don’t spend all my time gawking at celebrities (banter)

Char: (Jokingly mock) OMG have you seen THIS about what’s his face and his new girlfriend?!

Han: You guys can’t talk! You’ve got your noses stuck in your phone 24/7, see your screens paused now bet you’re on snapchat or something

Char: I had to reply to a message, can’t be rude, now can I?

All: *laugh*

Rhy: Have you all finished this assessment yet? Its literally taken me forever to finish

Chloe: Yeah, I finished my ages ago, it’s not that hard just find a topic you like to talk about and bam the essays basically written itself

Han: Nope not finished yet just got to finish the conclusion and proofread it. Charlotte do you mind if I send it to you to check over? Don’t want to have any mistakes in it obviously

Char: of course babes! Just let me know when you’ve sent it

Rhy: OMG I hate you guys this isn't fair that you actually understand the brief, bet you're getting extra help for this because you’re all the favourite

Han: (Sarcastic) Oh definitely! We’re 100% the favourite in the class. Have you only just figured this out?

Rhy: Ha ha ha. Very funny

Char: Hang on mums calling me, be back in a second (leaves room)

Chloe: *playing around with filters on facetime* guys look I’m a (insert filter here)

Han: You’re such a child

Rhy: Ooh I wanna try, how’d you do that?

Chloe: Just the button on the right hand of the screen

Han: So, girls did you ever hear of the story of Procrustes?

Char: (Walks back in and sits down) What?

Chloe: Huh?

Han: Procrustes.

Rhy: Yeah, shut up. That’s not real.

Han: umm, yeah it is actually.

Char: Yeah, I’ve heard about it.

Han: He’s a big monster. Who chops off your limbs...

Char: He has this bed, and if you don’t fit…

Rhy: He stretches you to fit the bed

Han: Or cuts off your limbs.

Chloe: Stop it guys. I know you’re just trying to scare me.

Han: And why would we do that?

Chloe: Because that’s what you guys always do. It’s not funny anymore.

Rhy: Chloe, chill out. (laughs)

Han: I know right.

Han: This one time, a group of children were skipping down the path.

Rhy: And he invited them into his house.

Chloe: And what did he do?

Char: He stretched the arms and legs of each and every child that stepped foot into his home.

Han: Girls, what are you wearing to Emily's party?

Char: I’m thinking of just going casual.

Rhy: I haven’t even thought about it yet.

Chlo: I probably won’t go.

Han: What why?

Char: Yeah, why not Chlo?

Rhy: It’ll be so much fun.

Chlo: Just because.

Han: Just because what?

Chlo: I feel disgusting. Nothing fits me. I look fat in everything I wear.

Han: Omg shut up Chloe, you’re not fat.

Char: You’re so stupid if you believe that.

Rhy: Yeah, you’re gorgeous. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Char: I promise you Chloe, you’ll be fine.

Han: How about I come over later to help you pick something out?

Chloe: Yeah okay, sounds good.

Rhy: Aww, can I come too.

Char: Yeah, we can order food.

Han: Lush, what time chlo?

Chlo: 5?

All but Chloe: We’ll be there.

(Girls painting nails, doing makeup etc)

Hannah notices something on the screen.

Han: Um, Chloe what’s that?

Chloe: What’s what?

Han: That

Char: OMG, Chloe who is that

Han: Stop trying to scare us Chloe, it’s not funny.

Rhy: You’re so pathetic, stop it.

Han: its moving

Char: Chloe seriously.

Han: Chloe don’t move.

Char: It is moving again

Rhy: Whatever girls.

Han: I’m being serious!

(Charlotte and Hannah scream)

(Chloe screen glitches and then goes black, disconnects from the video chat)

Rhy: What was that all about?

Han: She not picking up!

Char: Pick up! Pick up Chloe (panicking)

Rhy: She’s just messing with us surely

(Chloe comes back on the video chat)

Han: Omg Chloe is everything okay

Char: What happened?

Chloe: The power went out, my dad checked the fuse, and everything was fine, nothing blew...

Rhy: Okay that is weird… haha ghost oooo (laughs nervously)

Char: That’s not funny, I’ve got a weird feeling...brb

Han: Ah I feel sick as well (cough up little bit of blood into a tissue)

Chloe: What the fuck Han, are you okay? What is going on! Damn it’s got cold in my room

Rhy: That’s because your window is open Chlo?

Chloe: Well it’s winter I wouldn’t have it open!? I didn’t open my window (turns around and sees the door shutting slowly and then slams shut

(Han, Rhy and Chloe scream)

Char: (Runs back to the screen, hair all messy and makeup all ruined, with blood coming out her nose)

Han: Your bleeding too? (starts coughing again and blood comes out) what the hell happening

Rhy: (TV comes on randomly and door slams) okay guys I’m scared now

Char: Guys I keep seeing things, he he he…

Chloe: He?! Who’s he…

Han: Char stay with us!

Char: (Keeps disconnecting from the video call, screen keeps going black)

Rhy; (Sweating and shaking) maybe her internet lagging, let me call you guys again...

(Chloe, Han and Rhy answer straight away)

Chloe: You guys there, everyone okay? Everything’s fine now

Han: Yeah I’m good

Char: (joins the video chat, sweating, breathing heavily) he’s here

Rhy: Who? Who is he, I’m calling the police, don’t move Char

Char: Don’t call anyone, don’t move, he’s everywhere, we can’t escape him.

Han: Please stop, I’m home alone right now and I can’t deal with this. I need call someone

Chloe: No Hannah don’t move, he’s behind you…

Han: I don’t want to look, please make this stop (starts crying)

Char: Don’t cry Hannah, don’t show him you’re scared. That’s what he wants

Rhy: I think I’m gonna throw up (starts to cough and looks up to the screen with blood coming out of her nose)

Chloe: I can’t deal with this (shouts out to her dad and something moves/crashes in her room)

(Everyone looks into the camera, screen goes dark)

0 notes

artclusters · 5 years

Text

Short story under the theme “nature” for a college magazine.

“The meaning”

The boat drifted across the pristine lake, framed by lush earth and lodgepole pine trees in the distance. A sweet damp scent was ever-present and water-lilies lazily floated by. Shams has finished casting with a faint whizz that sliced the air, while Luke adjusted his camera settings. It was mostly quiet, aside from the occasional plops and ripples in the water, the far-off chatter of water-birds and the rustling of dragonflies. All they had to do now was to wait and bask in the radiating warmth from the clear late-morning sky, as Fairuz played tenderly from Luke’s phone…

“Why is fishing so romanticized when it’s actually just ridiculously boring?” Luke piped up, slightly irritated and bouncing his leg.

“Maybe we’ll catch something…until then, RELISH this dude. You’re just upset because you’re not getting instant gratification,” Shams mused.

“Yes. That’s exactly it. You’re right. Okay, I’m trying. I know how much you wanted to visit this park.” It was not unusual for Luke to feel restless whenever he was doing “nothing”. He twiddled his short beard as he tried to hold himself back from checking the line every 30 seconds on-the-dot. He felt that the boat will somehow break and drown them if he doesn’t do so.

Shams moved out of view and sat next to him. Luke carefully held his camera and took a photo, aiming to depict the glimmering silver fishing rod perched against the yellow boat’s edge in the center, the sky-blue lake clinging to the sides and with a tinge of greenery at the corners. He inspected it afterwards for what seemed like an eternity.

“It’s trash.”

“What! Why? Let me see.”

Luke defeatedly passed the camera to him. It was a fairly decent photo, in terms of artistry or aesthetic. The colors complemented each other well and it portrayed a pleasing natural scene.

“It’s nice dude,” Shams said frankly.

“No, it’s not,” Luke stood up and frantically flung his arms and turned in circles. “THIS is nice. EVERYTHING here is nice, VERY nice, but THIS-” he pointed harshly at the camera screen, “THIS is not nice. Do you see my problem? I am unable to CAPTURE the beauty around me! It’s not…right! I am a FAILURE!” He turned away in embarrassment, at both his vulnerable outburst and almost losing his balance.

“…You’re being hard on yourself again…” Shams handed him back the camera. “Just take other photos, okay?”

After several Fairuz songs, camera clicks and releasing a small gasping trout, they set off to the trees trail.

[---]

They strolled through the path, occasionally stepping on fallen leaves and small pine-cones scattered about, emitting a satisfying crunch. The air was even more refreshing than the previous area, and the crisp fragrance of pine-oil replaced the dampness. This trail was a haven of abundance; white pines, red and white fir and ponderosa flourished all around. The red and yellow sugar and big-leaf maple trees were a splendid interruption to the green palette. Shams (being the enthusiast that he is) learned about all of them; Luke listened intently to his little presentations. Luke would also occasionally go back and forth to retrace his steps whenever he lost count, simultaneously making sure not to step over wooden panels. Shams was used to showing up late with him whenever they went somewhere and planning a route with the least human contact. They took their time - this was a goldmine for a photographer as well. Alas, Luke would pause extensively after every photo, only to sigh, curse and glare.

“I can honestly say I’ve never seen anyone stare so angrily at a camera,” Shams teased, to which Luke retaliated by snapping an off-guard photo of him.

They reached the center of the trail, where brown beckoning giant sequoia trees resided, and a gorgeous meadow clothed the rich soil. Lively song-bird chirps resounded from every tree-top, like an orchestrated melody. Shams did not waste the opportunity to share his knowledge with Luke about them (his favorite is the Steller’s jay).

“…This here is the finest ASMR you can experience dude,” Shams concluded, with a theatrical appraising hand motion.

Luke wandered off to check out the meadow; it was identical to stepping onto a very soft carpet, and the dense grass brushed against his thin legs. Elegant dandelions and purple cress peeked between the blades in full bloom.

“Shams, aren’t you going to generously tell me about this meadow?” Luke knelt and pointed randomly, “why, I must know the exact conditions this flower will thrive in!”

“Nope, I’m not working for free no more! ... And by the way that’s a spring beauty.” Shams found an empty space and lied down, almost sinking in. He patted the ground motioning for Luke to rest for a bit.

Luke plopped alongside him. Looking up to the giants, it felt like being cradled as wise beings watched over them, holding up the immense sky. He tried to fight off the disturbing thought of being crushed by a swiftly collapsing tree – out of nowhere - and clenched his fists several times. He turned to face Shams, who was gleefully double-checking trivia about the park on his phone. Luke was overcome with a strong - yet familiar – feeling that he couldn’t find the words to describe. He quickly sat up.

“I was joking, you know. I can tell you about the meadow,” Shams said, a little too late.

“No, I’m- I’m good. Do you want to move on?” Luke asked, feeling flustered, and wiped his black flannel and grey Bermuda pants.

“Sure. Help me up dude,” Shams put away his phone as Luke grabbed his wrists.

They went off for a bathroom break and came across a friendly park ranger clad in teal and beige; she directed them to amateur hikes that provide an elevated view.

[---]

The smooth path ended, and a craggy unruly path began. Luke stopped to drink some water (and snap photos that will end up in self-beratement) while Shams looked at a diagram, absorbing it in his memory. Luke thought of how he always admired his reliability in such matters. To their side was a charming, rocky creek, it’s comforting trickling constant in the background. Pink mountain laurels, white-bark pines and prickly cob-web thistles started to appear as they hiked upwards. They were careful not to trip over thick roots embedded in the moist ground, and to take notice of any wild-life around. Luke regretted his decision to wear rainbow-laced black sneakers just because they match his outfit. Non-threatening hissing, swishing and rushing sounds echoed from every nook and cranny. The afternoon sky was turning slightly darker, and the temperature somewhat colder.

“So, Luke, are you like, thinking of this as a career? Or is it more like a hobby?”

“I mean…maybe? I mean…it could be…I don’t…I don’t know, really.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t want to sound preachy, but I think… once you figure out what photography means to you, your feelings about your work might change…you- you get what I mean?”

“…No, no, yeah, yeah I get it! You don’t sound preachy dude don’t worry…thanks, Shams.”

“Alright, because you don’t have to monetize it or whatever, you can do things just because,” Shams was about to disparage capitalism again but decided to let it go.

They smiled with silent appreciation of their mutual understanding. The conversation bounced from their typical lighthearted stuff, like discussing the inspiring animated French film The Rabbi’s Cat they’ve seen the other day, to more serious venting about their troubles back home.

They eventually reached the top of a rock, mountain hemlocks and foliage sprawling and hanging along the sides. They were welcomed with a stunning vastness of vivid olive-green, blending with the hazy azure horizon of the golden glorious sky. Shams approached the edge while Luke hastily whipped out the tripod (Shams urged him to not rush through it).

Luke tried to sit still and fiddled with his earrings. An intrusive, gory image of carelessly falling and hurting himself played repeatedly in his head.

Shams gently put his arm around him, “I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

Luke hesitated before resting against his shoulder, “I just want to feel good about my work, but I haven’t been able to…for a long time…I don’t know why exactly.”

The breeze caressed them as they idly gazed ahead, anticipating that fiery combination of orange, red and yellow as they collide together, the sun nesting beneath the sparse clouds.

“…You were my first subject, Shams,” Luke recalled suddenly.

“…Huh, yeah, didn’t it take you like ages to settle on a concept?”

“That…does sound like something I would do.”

Shams smiled fondly, “but once we finally started, time just flew by. We were having so much fun. Ah, I looked quite…different back then.”

“…Yeah.” There was that powerful and familiar feeling again, bordering on a pang of nagging longing, the words to phrase it drowned in the back of his mind.

“Hey, I’ll help you set up.”

Luke counted down from 10 seconds and took several shots to construct in a panorama later. Fortunately, there were only a few people around. He attempted to hide his profound, inexplicable disappointment. Maybe he didn’t take it at the perfect moment. Maybe it was too late, or too early, sort of blurry or the angle was marginally off…he can conjure up endless criticisms if he thought about it for too long.

“Let’s go Shams, before it gets too dark.”

They soon packed up and went back using a shortcut to the paved lodges area. The pathway was calmly lit with rose-colored rope lights. They found a wooden bench, with a lime-green recycling bin and an oval table on the sides. The park was much quieter now, save for the movement of other visitors.

“Hey Luke, I’ll go get us drinks. Just um, sit here and look through today’s photos again. I’m sure you’ll find one you like, and we’ll call it a good day!” Shams reassured.

Luke drummed his fingers as he waited. He decided he might as well…

[---]

To Shams, photography simply meant one of the many wonderful ways to spend time with his dearest. Gradually, Luke spiraled with the obsession of honing and perfecting it – it was akin to a curse. Maybe it was the praise and expectations of other people; maybe it was the expectations he set for himself. Maybe it’s his destructive compulsive nature; maybe it’s the post-graduation emptiness. Maybe it’s his over-bearing parents who incessantly mock and belittle anything he enjoys. For whatever reason, Luke would tragically end up consumed by his passions until he has nothing left to give, evolving into loathing and ultimately abandonment.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” the worker cheerfully popped out from the small lodge square window. A sugary, mellow aroma wafted from inside.

Today has been a lovely yet heavy sensory experience for Shams, which gave him a moderate headache from having to process everything at once.

“Hello there…” Shams squinted at their name tag, “…Robin!”

“Would you like some fresh apple juice?” They looked reminiscent of a brand mascot, wearing big white gloves, navy blue overalls and an oversized cap.

“…Sure. Two, please.” Shams hoped for a moment that they would’ve somehow sensed his worries and gave him advice or some encouraging anecdote that tells him exactly what he needs to hear. Of course, that’s only in fiction, or drama shows like This Is Us, it would be very awkward otherwise.

“Here you go, dear,” they handed him the drinks with a clink.

“Thank you.” He studied the menu, thinking if there’s anything Luke’s unpredictable taste would like. “Um, I’ll just have a popover, for now.”

[---]

Luke scrolled down to the gallery beginning; he glanced at it with a lack of interest at first, then he realized there are photos he had completely skipped over.

A photo of Shams towards the boat’s edge, pretending to reel in a heavy catch, puffing out his chest and arms with a radiant, hearty smile.

The surprise photo he took of Shams at the tree trail, his huge curly hair a black blur, his endearing, contagious laugh displaying his tooth-gap. His ankh and many colorful stimming necklaces were tangled and swinging.

A photo of Shams looking keenly at the tree-tops, his cartoonish round glasses taking up half of his chubby face. He pushed back his curls and scrunched his bushy eyebrows, immersed in spotting any birds. He was wearing his beige outdoor vest and the Woody Woodpecker t-shirt that Luke gifted him, that has since gotten tighter.

The unrehearsed photo of Shams during their climb, when he interjected in Luke’s low-perspective shot attempt, which they giggled about right after. He was crouched down in his camouflage shorts and black hiking boots, his lone braid dangled over his shoulder, his hands twisted in a spontaneous vogue pose, showing off his purple-painted nails.

A photo of Shams living his intricate fantasy of an explorer; he emulated a triumphant demeanor, one hand on his waist (a rectangular scar on his forearm in view) and the other pensively placed on his chin. His kind hazel eyes glowed with awe and delight, as he contemplated towards nowhere in particular. There was a hint of strain on his serious face, most likely from trying not to laugh and break character. The pre-sunset sky formed a magnificent backdrop against his dark brown skin.

Luke held tightly onto the camera, almost as if it was in threat of suddenly disappearing. These photos (belonging to a bigger unexamined collection) were taken in jest after all- thus unimportant, right? No…these candid photos of Shams ignited beautiful feelings within him, feelings that he was looking for all along in his work, feelings that have continuously lived yearning to be acknowledged, feelings that he cannot begin to explain. But he will try, he had to, he must.

[---]

“Got the drinks!” Shams passed one to him, “oh and…three ice cubes! Just how you like it.”

Luke absentmindedly set it aside and said nothing.

“Not in the mood for apple?”

“What? No, no, it’s great, Shams, listen,” Luke took a deep breath, “um, remember when you asked me earlier today what photography means to me?”

“Uh-huh, sort of,” Shams uttered between sips. He waved the delicious wrapped popover towards Luke’s face to try it, but he quickly shook his head.

“I don’t know if this is about to be one of my weird confusing ramblings, but I don’t care. Shams, in my pursuit for a pointless and meaningless and subjective notion of perfection I’ve lost track of WHY I enjoy this- why I even DO this in the first place, I mean, how it all started.” He tapped the camera rather forcefully, “this right here was for you and me, US. An…an- an outlet for two outcast high-schoolers, expressing themselves and- and discovering who we were. Shams, in the simplest terms, I…love photography, and what photography is - means - to me is…you.” He looked away, “I’m sorry that I forgot such an important thing, and I’m sorry if I sound like I’ve come across such an obvious epiphany…” He let out a pained chuckle, his cheeks flushed. “I don’t know if I’m making sense…”

Shams took a long sip and stayed quiet for a bit, in case he had something more to say. He knows how Luke agonizes when he loses his train of thought. He reached out his hand and tidied Luke’s bob-cut, his hair that he always ruins with his non-stop gestures.

“I love you too, Luke,” he requited with utmost sincerity.

They smiled. Then they broke into laughs.

Time stood still, a palpable aura of relief and exhilaration embracing them. Cascading shadows of tree leaves swayed gracefully nearby.

“…Hey, is the camera still on?” Shams finally asked.

Luke, still in a daze, checked the battery meter. “Yeah.”

“…Would you join me in one last photo today?”

“…”

[---]

Luke set up the tripod and selected a timed photo with a flash.

10…9…8…7…6

They turned to face each other as they sat back on the bench.

Shams softly placed his hands over Luke’s and leaned closer.

5…4…3…2…1

[End] ---

#me #writing #nature #mywriting #mine

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oscopelabs · 8 years

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The Venomous Beauty of ‘By the Sea’ by Angelica Jade Bastién

[This month, Musings pays homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to film we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Over the next four weeks, Musings will offer its own selection of tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

As a woman you learn early and often how beauty is its own currency and how easily it can be turned against you.

Every generation has had otherworldly figures that communicate this truth writ large— Lana Turner, Joan Crawford, Elizabeth Taylor, and, of course, Angelina Jolie. In previous generations, actresses learned to make a meal out of the male gaze and its relationship to the contradictory power women can find in using their own beauty as a weapon. This gave us indelible moments like Rita Hayworth’s striptease in Gilda, Michelle Pfeiffer slinking across the screen in latex as Catwoman in Batman Returns, and pretty much anytime 1950s sex bomb Marilyn Monroe had a camera in front of her. In Sunset Boulevard, when Norma Desmond looks at her past self on-screen with a mix of nostalgia and anger, she isn’t just mourning the past of the industry that made her famous, but the power that came with the brand of womanhood she exhibited in her youth. In her third feature as writer-director, By the Sea, Angelina Jolie takes the rarely seen approach of interrogating the art of watching and being watched as a woman through a prickly, even combative female gaze.

At first glance, By the Sea has a simple, even thin plot, with not much to offer. In 1970s Malta, an American couple take a trip to a coastal hotel in hopes of fixing their rotting marriage. Vanessa (Jolie) is a former dancer in a perpetual opiate haze, numbing herself to a past tragedy, while Roland (Brad Pitt) is a formerly successful writer pickling himself with whatever booze is around. Things take a perverse turn when Vanessa discovers a peephole that lets her look into the room of the young, hot, newlyweds next door, Léa (Mélanie Laurent) and Francois (Melvil Poupaud). For a good portion of the film characters seem remarkably passive — they drink, fuck, or lie dazed on balconies.

Upon closer examination, By the Sea proves to be a beguiling mix of existential erotic thriller and tone poem—an audacious, challenging film brimming with heady ideas. With profound emotion and visual ingenuity, the film examines how love so often curdles into hate, the art of seeing and being seen, and meta-textually, the currency of movie stars in a cinematic landscape starved of them.

It’s clear from the first few minutes that Jolie is a startlingly self-aware artist. She understands how her presence and that of her equally famous soon-to-be-ex husband can warp a film—and she takes full advantage. By the Sea has the sort of grand, movie star introduction we don’t see all that often; it leans into Jolie and Pitt’s outsized personas rather than obscures them. In a dashing silver convertible, they drive the winding Mediterranean roads, passing by rocky mountains and the cerulean sea. They sit wordlessly next to each other. He has a surface level affability and looseness to his demeanor. She’s unmoving, inscrutable. Yes, it’s gorgeously shot and utterly alluring. But there is an uneasiness to their silence that hints at the turmoil to come.

Thanks to its slow rhythm and repetitiveness, By the Sea weaves a strange spell. As images of the older fisherman rowing through the sea, Roland drinking himself into an embarrassing stupor, and Vanessa artfully arranging herself across the room continue, the film lulls us into a place of comfort. Jolie isn’t interested in the typical conventions of plot or even what’s to be expected of artful projects celebrities create for themselves. She instead shows a finely tuned interest in mood. Once Vanessa discovers the peephole and the illicit thrill of stepping into the lives of the idyllic newlyweds, she can’t turn back. There’s a raw brutality to the way Roland and Vanessa interact with each other that amp up after she discovers the peephole. They’re like two wounded animals clawing at each other. But what is entirely unexpected are the flashes of cruel humor and absurdity.

When she hears Roland coming back to the room one day, she plugs up the peephole and slides across the floor with a frantic sloppiness. She casts one of her blank stares, playing coy. But he already found the peephole on his own. It’s a brief moment but it’s utterly ridiculous to watch—her fear of being discovered, his knowing glance, her feigning the sort of opiate stupor he’s come to expect. Then the whole film takes a turn. “Will you watch with me?,” Roland asks. Soon Roland and Vanessa are making their voyeurism into a daily ritual.

But Vanessa isn’t satisfied with just watching them. She wants to influence them. Roland goes along with it out of the misguided hope of bringing back Vanessa from the edge. He sees the libidinal thrill she gets from watching this couple and watching Roland watch them as well. Even though she’s dedicated to staying in the hotel and not venturing any further than the market, he sees their voyeurism as an opportunity to give their marriage the spark that was seemingly extinguished years prior. He even goes so far as to suggest they get the neighboring couple drunk and watch what happens later.

What follows is a brief, kinetic scene of them getting ready in the bathroom. The camera swoons around Vanessa as she sprays her bouffant with copious hairspray. Just to her side, Roland waves a towel with one hand and drinks with the other. Their understanding of one another is clear in how they move: Her at the vanity, him at the sink. Him with his liquor, her with the pills.

By the Sea understands marriage and the way people who’ve been together for a long time can hurt each other. This is most pointed in the film’s relationship with intimacy. Over dinner with the objects of their voyeurism, the noise of the café fades away as if Vanessa’s hearing everything through another hole in the wall, rather than actually being present. Characters often look directly at the camera (or just about) as if in conversation with the audience. Important meetings (like the first time Vanessa comes upon Léa in real life rather than through watching her) are shot from a distance—whole conversations unheard in favor of taking the perspective of another character watching from afar. Mirrors are a pivotal device for Jolie as a director. Roland and Vanessa often exchange meaningful glances not by looking directly at each other, but at their reflections. Late in the film, Roland forces Vanessa to go out for dinner and dancing. She’s nervous, her voice barely above a ragged whisper. He lovingly smiles, trying to get her out of her shell. When he takes her onto the dance floor, things start out romantically. But soon she begins spinning like a broken top. She flails and sidesteps and twirls. In the fragmented mirror above the dance floor, her reflection is splintered into several duplicates as she continues to move with manic energy before Roland comes to her side.

By the Sea’s cunning understanding of the ways being seen affects identity extends beyond Christian Berger’s lush cinematography, with its painfully intimate framing and rich color palette. The costuming by Ellen Mirojnick gives the film a timeless quality and strengthens the characterization. Good costuming is beautiful. But great costuming is lived in, acting as architecture for the actors. It not only frames their face but brings the internal machinations of their characters into the physical realm in subtle ways. Vanessa is entirely devoid of color, her hair an ashen blonde that hews a little too close to Jolie’s skin. She only wears snowy whites, fresh creams, and deep blacks. But as her obsession continues, pops of color are introduced—pink lipstick, the blue pills she knocks back, and a skirt red like a fresh wound when they go sailing. In one of the most harrowing scenes near the end, Roland peers through the peephole to find Vanessa with Francois; when he undoes her top, her bra underneath is a striking red. Mirojnick’s costumes go so far as to suggest that Vanessa “self-medicates” with luxury. After an incident that alludes to a failed suicide attempt, she returns to the hotel drenched in ocean water, looking like a shipwrecked bride. Even in her despair, she’s gorgeous.

Throughout the film, there are hints as to what cataclysmic tragedy upended their marriage. Vanessa’s long gazes at children are an early tell. After Roland discovers Vanessa’s flirtation with adultery, he drags her back into their room, forcing her to acknowledge the emotions that are keenly felt but left unexplained. She’s barren. In watching Léa, she didn’t only want to witness someone else’s fairytale early marriage (and remember her own) but utterly destroy it. Watching Léa reminds her of her inability to have children after several failed pregnancies.

In watching Vanessa glamorously sulk around the hotel room, committing one self-destructive act after another, I thought of something Truman Capote wrote describing the common thread between Elizabeth Taylor, Judy Garland, and Marilyn Monroe. “[They had an] emotional extremism, a dangerously greater need to be loved than to love, the hotheaded willingness of an incompetent gambler to throw good money after bad.” It’s easy to turn unlikeable, grotesque, outsized women into camp spectacles. But Jolie avoids that trap while still finding humor in this hard-to-love story. Even as Vanessa harms everyone around her, especially Roland, with increasing cruelty you can’t help but understand, even sympathize with her, since Jolie so fully constructs this broken doll of a woman. You understand the anguish beneath her manicured surface, even as she reveals herself to be as wounding as she is wounded.

By the Sea shows the influence of Bergman, Antonioni, and Godard in its moodiness, pacing, and styling. Critic Kim Morgan, one of the few defenders of the film, also sees a bit of Roman Polanski’s Bitter Moon. But it feels more profoundly like the spiritual heir to the collaborations between another legendary couple, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. The venomous wit of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and the cracked out Boom! are its clearest antecedents. There’s enough haunting melancholy and elegant vulgarity to make By the Sea escape being mere mimicry. Jolie understands “primal pull” that classic Hollywood movie stars represent. Watching Ava Gardner with haughty grace smoke cigarettes in The Killers or an impeccably styled Bette Davis walk off the ship in Now, Voyager holds an allure that’s hard to explain and even harder to deny. Jolie leans into this seductive power, displaying it over and over again until it’s nearly unbearable. This highlights the greatest strength of the film: how it argues acting is its own form of auteurism.

As Vanessa, Jolie gives a towering performance, communicating the ways women buckle under interpersonal expectation. Her elegant physicality nods to the character’s past as a professional dancer—she’s always in various states of elegant repose. Even when she’s a makeup-smeared, hysterical mess, there’s a sense that she’s still posing and adjusting herself, as if being watched and studied. She’s either in a drug riddled haze, a violent hysteric, or wearing a mask with no legible emotion. She’s a woman of extremes. Jolie asks in every line reading and every gesture for us to understand Vanessa’s disinterest in being likable.

Watching the vicious critical appraisal of the film when it was released two years ago, I couldn’t help but think of what John Berger wrote in The Ways of Seeing, “You painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and you called the painting ‘Vanity,’ thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for you own pleasure.” It wasn’t so much that the film was hated but that many critics refused to engage with the film itself. Instead of seeing the outsized personalities of the star couple at its center as something that enriches the way the film approaches voyeurism and the personalities we craft for people, it was seen as a hinderance. There was a sexist edge in the oft-heard critique of the film as a “vanity project” as well. As Sheila O’Malley wonderfully states in her appraisal of the film, “In order for that criticism to be valid, Angelina Jolie would have cast herself as the luscious sexually-alive object-of-desire living next door, seen through the hole in the wall. But Jolie didn’t do that. Instead, she plays a woman jealous of that golden happy sexy woman next door.” The criticism of By the Sea was virulent and intellectually simplistic in ways that showed disinterest in how women construct themselves, as if their dreams and fantasies can’t have value. It’s this sort of mindset that adds to why women struggle to find footing in Hollywood in meaningful ways as directors. It also displays a discomfort for when a woman of great beauty turns herself into the subject rather than an object.

An actress of Jolie’s stature is the architect of her own image and story in ways that American culture still scorns. Yes, there is a meta-textual edge to By the Sea, given its topics of child loss, adultery, the art of being watched, and beautiful people making a mess of things. But By the Sea amounts to more than merely being a gorgeous, meta take on one of Hollywood’s most famous couples.

With By the Sea, Jolie encapsulates the cardinal sin women are warned against: she doesn’t give a damn if you like her. She eschews plot for mood, easy answers for hard truths. She privileges beauty as not only an important pleasure to be found in cinema but a subject worthy of intellectual study. In doing so, she creates nothing short of a masterpiece.

#angelina jolie #brad pitt #by the sea #musings #oscilloscope laboratories #marilyn monroe #lana turner #joan crawford #elizabeth taylor #produced and abandoned

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jeremystrele · 4 years

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Lush Balinese Villas That Show Off The Beauty Of Tropical Living

These beautiful Balinese villas show off a lush tropical lifestyle that will have you dreaming of a sun drenched getaway. But before you start searching for your passport, take a moment to enjoy the gorgeous architecture, lavish interiors and green landscaping that this collection of four holiday home designs has to offer. Get set to explore a modern tropical abode under great undulating rafters, a traditional fine wood and thatch villa, a crisp property exterior with a dark heart, and an elegant jungle villa with warm orange and green accents. Let’s not overlook the alluring swimming pools that each place is set around too, along with fish filled ponds with meditative vibes.

Photographer: Danang Seta Padding around the lawned grounds of home design number one, the twilight sky both shades and showcases the dramatic undulation of a unique roofline. Interior lights beam through glass wall bedrooms and living spaces. Pool lights illuminate cool blue water along the sleeping sun deck.

In the morning light, the Balinese villa comes alive with vibrant green trees and shrubs. Hanging plants pour out of first floor balconies.

The rectangular pool design features a sunken sundeck and a sloping floor.

The overhang of the waved roofline provides some internal shade for the house to keep rooms cool.

Outdoor chaise lounge chairs pull up around the edge of the pool on an L-shaped deck, looking out onto the tropical garden.

Mature trees grow an oasis of privacy around the property.

Inside of the house there is a totally different vibe from the natural timber deck and abundant nature outside. The interior is an industrial grey open plan, dotted with colourful modern art and contemporary furniture.

A rustic dining set brings back the tropical vibe. A matching rustic dining bench serves one side of the table whilst four stylish dining chairs up the formal aesthetic on the opposite side.

A suspended staircase design gives rise to the upper floor over stone treads. One wall of the kitchen slots into the space under the open staircase, but the bulk of the kitchen utility is situated around a central island volume.

A goddess statue reclines by the wall of the kitchen, surrounded by the natural beauty of plants and trees.

The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling makes a fitting coffee table book for the tropical setting.

Up in the bedroom we catch our first glimpse of how the unusual undulating roofline translates into the internal space. Great sweeping rafters pull over the bed, like the sinews of a mighty whale.

Custom-made glass walls open up the bedroom to panoramic views of the landscape.

Bespoke curtain rails pull across the curvaceous window and door frames.

Kuno Villas at Gili Trawangan is a three bedroom vacation property, built traditionally with fine wood and a thatched roof.

The elegant holiday destination is surrounded by tropical gardens and its own outdoor swimming pool.

An outdoor lounge overlooks the freeform pool and its rushing waterfall feature.

Inside, wooden interiors are broken with fresh white accents and pops of yellow.

Framed ceilings create a unique 4 poster bed effect in one of the three suites.

Bespoke dressing tables merge into wood framed walls.

Bathrooms are full of rustic tropical character. In this one, indoor pools present a bridged walkway to the bathtub. The wooden bridge is actually the shower platform, with the shower controls located on a freestanding column at one side.

This ensuite pushes the shower out into a garden border.

Muxarabi screens open the bathrooms up to plentiful ventilation whilst screening the sunlight. Solid wood bathroom furniture matches the rustic architecture of the place, and complements the natural pools and plants implemented into the design.

Stepping stones emerge from the shallow waters of a reflection pool.

Rocks and shrubs build a natural border around the outdoor swimming pool.

This modern three bedroom villa has crisp exterior landscaping with a linear sundeck and elongated pool. A high border of tropical trees grows a dense wall of privacy.

Chic outdoor lounge furniture is dressed with stylish monochrome throws and scatter cushions.

A fish pond sets out an area for quiet reflection, with the bubbling splash of a water fountain to aid the meditative state.

The dark interior style exudes sophistication. A vaulted ceiling keeps the inside of the villa feeling airy. A cluster of oversized living room pendant lights drop great lengths from the wooden rafters.

Across from the modern black sofa, a low lounge chair reclines at either side of the TV wall.

Directors chairs make up a unique modern dining set with a solid black table. Tubular dining room pendant lights drop like gold wind chimes overhead.

A red runner lays a bright stripe through a black bedroom scheme.

Patterned accents break up the black bed set on an imposing black 4 poster bed.

A skylight spills sunshine into a grey concrete bathroom.

Source: Danang Seta Our last tour takes place in an elegant jungle villa with a tree shaded patio.

A swimming pool dominates the outdoor area, pushing up against a lush border of tropical plants.

The villa opens up to the outdoors with a bar area.

Green and orange accents lift the grey stone and rich wood surroundings.

Slab stepping stones cross a fish pond.

Bright bedrooms are decorated with traditional art and textiles, in a decidedly more muted green and orange palette.

Recommended Reading: Gorgeous Tropical Villas In Bali

Bali's Tropical Paradise Maya Ubud Resort

Orange Kitchens

Four Breathtaking Greek Villas

16 Green Color Bedrooms

Green Themed Home Decor Inspiration

4 Green Decor Schemes That Help You Feel Closer To Nature

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drewebowden66 · 4 years