#le bernardin

[agiantmonster]

4/3

[cumdinewitmoi]

[cabinet-baldo]

Sur la scission du Black Panthers Party 

Opuscule francais de 1971, éditions Git-le-Cœur 

38 pages que je tiens à disposition en HD, me contacter   

[sillypenguinwitch]

isaac's books in heartstopper s2

episode 1:

Tillie Walden: I Love This Part

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé: Ace of Spades

episode 2:

Nina LaCour: We Are Okay

Oscar Wilde: The Importance of Being Earnest

episode 3:

Ocean Vuong: Night Sky with Exit Wounds (the one he is carrying under his arm, I'm assuming that's his and not for the display?)

has read: Ritch C. Savin-Williams: Bi: Bisexual, Pansexual, Fluid, and Nonbinary Youth

Emily Henry: Book Lovers

episode 4:

Victor Hugo: Les Misérables

Antoine De Saint-Exupéry: The Little Prince

Kate Chopin: The Awakening

Nina LaCour: We Are Okay (again)

episode 5:

Albert Camus: The Outsider

episode 6:

Martin Handford: Where's Wally? The Great Picture Hunt

Meredith Russo: Birthday

Jules Verne: Around the World in Eighty Days

Sara Pennypacker: Pax Anne Berest, Audrey Diwan, Caroline de Maigret, Sophie Mas: How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are ? ? ? Damian Dibben: The Color Storm Alice Oseman: Loveless Susan Stokes-Chapman: Pandora Katy Hessel: The Story of Art Without Men ? Evelyn Waugh: Rossetti Arthur Conan Doyle: The Hound of the Baskervilles A.O. Scott: Better Living Through Criticism ?: Then We Came to an End (?) Ruth Millington: Muse Dr. Jaqui Lewis: Fierce Love Charlotte Van Den Broek: Bold Ventures - Thirteen Tales of Architectural Tragedy ?

Richard Siken: Crush

episode 7:

Garrard Conley: Boy Erased

George Matthew Johnson: All Boys Aren't Blue

Samra Habib: We Have Always Been Here

episode 8:

Akemi Dawn Bowman: Summer Bird Blue

Angela Chen: Ace

bonus:

Truham school library pride display (seen in ep. 3 and 8):

top to bottom, left to right: Angela Chen: Ace Andrew Holleran: The Kingdom of Sand Mary Jean Chan and Andrew McMillan: 100 Queer Poems Scott Stuart: My Shadow Is Pink Lotte Jeffs: My Magic Family Tucker Shaw: When You Call My Name Ritch C. Savin-Williams: Bi - Pansexual, Fluid, Nonbinary and Fluid Youth Alok Vaid-Menon: Beyond the Gender Binary George M. Johnson: All Boys Aren’t Blue Mason Deaver: I Wish You All the Best Alex Gino: George Melissa

on top of shelves (left to right): Kevin Van Whye: Nate Plus One Xixi Tian: This Place is Still Beautiful Becky Albertalli: Leah on the Offbeat Mya-Rose Craig: Birdgirl Bernardine Evaristo: Girl, Woman, Other Connie Glynn: Princess Ever After Saundra Mitchell: The Prom

Charlie's choice at Shakespeare and Co (ep. 6): Allan Hollinghurst: The Swimming Pool Library

That's it for now.

Sorry about the ones i couldn't identify and sorry if i missed any! Might try and do some of the ones in Isaac's room later but that'll take a minute

[nominzn]

buy me presents I

I've been a bad girl, guess I'm getting coal m.list

Uma rotina simples: acordar cedo num quarto glorioso com o chef tendo feito o seu café da manhã, ir à academia para compor a estética mais desejável do momento, depois ponderar sobre algo que precisa ter e, sem medo algum, passar o cartão de crédito sem limites que seu pai lhe dera. Para melhorar, talvez uma visita rápida ao namorado vice-presidente a empresa que lhe será herança em breve, fechando com chave de ouro em um dos restaurantes mais caros da cidade, ou com um jantar espetacular e privado preparado pelo mesmo chef da manhã. Parece a descrição de uma vida impossível, porém esta é a sua agenda. 

Para quem te visse comprando itens de luxo, exibindo carros que mal sabiam pronunciar o nome, acumulando riqueza para a família, ajudando nos imóveis do papai, seria fácil dizer que nada lhe falta, e não teria razão alguma para sentir tristeza. E você, sem pestanejar, concordaria com afinco. Reconhece ter uma vida perfeita, tudo conspira a seu favor. 

Até que… 

As sacolas deviam ter ficado no carro, mas estão espalhadas no sofá de couro pequeno no canto do escritório de Jaehyun, esquecidas, é claro. As mãos masculinas tão graciosamente acariciam seu rosto macio entre o beijo lento e saudoso que mal te dão permissão para pensar em qualquer outra coisa senão este homem que te abriga sobre as próprias pernas.

Com o sorrisinho confiante enfeitando o canto dos lábios, Jaehyun interrompe o beijo apenas para anunciar a pista que você vinha esperando há meses — tudo já estava preparado para o momento. 

— Tenho uma surpresa, amor. — Jaehyun quase sussurra, sedutor e carinhoso, apertando de leve sua pele exposta um pouco acima do joelho. — Fiz uma reserva no Le Bernardin pra sexta. 

— Le Bernardin? — ao repetir o nome do recinto, seu rosto se ilumina ainda mais, contagiando o namorado. — Não tava completamente lotado até Junho? 

— Sim. Mas… — Jae move seu cabelo para trás do ombro, marcando o contorno dos lábios ali. — Seu namorado tem contatos, amorzinho. — ele solta um pouco de ar pelo nariz, orgulhoso de si mesmo. 

— Amor! — suas mãos vão até a boca para conter um gritinho eufórico. — Alguma ocasião especial?

Sua especialidade: sondar, fingindo-se de boba. Não é óbvio? 

— Você é minha ocasião especial, linda. 

Está aí, finalmente, o que lhe faltava. O pedido de casamento. 

Depois daquele dia de meio da semana, correu para fazer as unhas novamente, voltando ao salão apenas três dias depois da última vez. O cabelo também mereceu atenção: retocou as mechas e já aproveitou para deixar marcado um full blowout à domicílio na sexta-feira. 

Um Versace nunca lhe caíra tão bem, as costureiras ajustaram milimetricamente para abraçar suas curvas e deixá-la não menos do que perfeita.

Pela manhã do tão aguardado dia, a esteticista relaxou todos os músculos tensos de seu corpo e limpou a pele impecável à um nível de excelência incomparável. Fora preparada quase completamente por outras pessoas, no entanto a maquiagem sempre acabava em suas mãos. Lâncome, Dior, Yves Saint Laurent, Elizabeth Arden… seu rosto facilmente valeria mais do que um salário comum. 

Jaehyun chega num Rolls-Royce Spectre, o quinto favorito de sua coleção. Como sempre, vai até você, abre a porta do carro, não sem antes deixar um beijo apaixonado nos seus lábios e te banhar de elogios. Ele parece mais alegre, e você confirma: está acontecendo mesmo. 

No restaurante, a mesa é privada, a mais requisitada. Definitivamente alguém teve sua reserva deixada de lado por causa do pedido de Jaehyun, mas não dá tempo de sentir remorso. O luxo cobre desde as entradas até a sobremesa, transbordando na garrafa de vinho mais valiosa da coleção do Sr. Jung, pai de seu namorado. 

— Sua época favorita chegou. — Jaehyun engata noutro tópico após te fazer rir com uma história boba do último evento de negócios fora da cidade. — Have yourself a merry little Christmas… — a voz aveludada cantarola o primeiro verso da sua canção mais querida, e você sorri docemente para o namorado. 

— Tudo fica mais especial no Natal. — insiste no argumento antigo, fazendo-o revirar os olhos de brincadeira. Não vê nada diferente na data. — É sério! A neve, as decorações, tudo fica mais aconchegante, as bebidas nas cafeterias, os presentes, o espírito de união… 

— Você é tão linda, sabia? 

É agora. Meu Deus. 

Jaehyun sinaliza ao garçom no canto do cômodo o pedido para que se aproximasse. De forma discreta entrega o meio de pagamento e, assim que o outro se vai, ele entrelaça a mão na sua, alcançando-a entre o pequeno vaso de tulipas. 

— Nossa noite foi muito especial, amor. — ele diz, arrancando um sorriso exultante dos seus lábios. 

Espera que ele continue, talvez faça um pequeno discurso sobre o lindo amor que sentem, e… Nada. Simplesmente lhe devolvem o cartão, e ele se levanta para ir te ajudar a fazer o mesmo. 

Sem que conseguisse esconder, uma confusão e decepção se espalham pelo seu sangue. A expressão triste persiste no trajeto de volta no carro, o que o homem percebe apenas ao chegar em frente à mansão — você quase saiu sem se despedir, pior ainda, não permitiu que abrisse a porta, como é costume. 

— O que houve, princesa? Algo de errado nessa cabecinha? 

A genuína curiosidade te pega completamente desprevenida. As palavras ecoando em sua mente não são capazes de sair, só consegue encará-lo com o cenho franzido enquanto respira fundo para não denunciar a raiva. Afinal, suas expectativas, sua culpa. 

— É que… — quebra o silêncio após alguns instantes. — Eu esperava uma coisa e… Nossa. É melhor deixar pra lá, Jae. Eu bebi um pouco. 

É isso, põe a culpa nas duas taças de vinho e segue em frente.

Jaehyun ri. Começa baixo, mas logo toma uma proporção maior. Ele apoia a cabeça no volante, o rosto se torna rosa quando o ar lhe é escasso. Incrédula, quase perdida, você o fita com a pele borbulhando. 

— Você achou que eu fosse te pedir em casamento hoje? Eu devia ter imaginado, você tá mais produzida do que o normal. — ele suspira, secando as lágrimas e superando os resquícios da risada. — Me desculpa, amor, mas assim… ainda não. Né? 

Os olhos em meia lua voltam ao seu estado sério ao perceber que quem tinha lágrimas umedecendo as pálpebras é você, e por razões muito opostas. Nunca havia se sentido pequena assim diante de ninguém, poderia arriscar dizer que até se sente humilhada. 

— Eu acho melhor a gente dar um tempo. 

Foi tudo que conseguiu dizer antes de disparar para fora do veículo, direto para o seu quarto. A sorte é que seus pais também haviam saído, então apenas um dos seguranças e uma das empregadas da noite viram seu estado. 

Nos dias seguintes, as muitas ligações de Jae foram ignoradas. Tentou viver a rotina normalmente, mas a saudade e a decepção atormentavam seus pensamentos todo segundo. Não aguentou muito tempo e contou tudo para sua mãe, que doce como só, se compadeceu do drama que lhe afligia. 

“Nós vamos passar o Natal longe daqui, hm? Será bom, e você vai pensar em como resolver isso.” 

Uma pequena viagem para a fazenda dos tios foi programada de última hora para que você pudesse espairecer perto da natureza, longe do ritmo glamouroso da cidade. Não era lá bem uma ótima solução, e ainda assim, foi o melhor que puderam fazer. Além do mais, há anos vocês não visitavam a família no final de ano, será como solucionar dois problemas de uma só vez. 

Para Jaehyun, a situação toda não passa de um pequeno desentendimento. Uma hora ou outra você pediria para voltar.

[acourtofthought]

It's odd that E/riels can admit to Elain's love of flowers and gardening and her penchant for sunshine (since they love the Light / Dark aesthetic for their ship) while claiming she'll be happiest remaining in the Night Court because it too has gardens and sunny days.

That's like telling a Michelin awarded chef they can be just as happy working in an Olive Garden as Le Bernardin because they both have food.

There's a reason SJM included "Outside of these borders, the rest of the world celebrates tomorrow as Nynsar - the Day of Seeds and Flowers" but that only in the Night Court they celebrate Starfall in lieu of the Nynsar revelry.

Does someone truly believe Elain would enjoy Starfall more than a day to celebrate something that is near and dear to her?

There's a reason we know that the gardens in Spring (and not the Night Court) would cause Elain to marvel and weep. That Nesta tells us that the Spring Court and not the Night Court had been "made" for someone like her.

Sure the Night Court has it's own gardens but clearly nothing to write home about since they aren't mentioned as anything special.

And it's in ACOMAF (the same book that SJM mated Elucien) that we're told the Day Court (and Winter) consider Solstice their holiest holiday, where they not only celebrate in the evening with presents, dancing and drinking in honor of the old sun's death but a second celebration at the dawn to welcome the sun's rebirth. That is followed up in ACOWAR by Elain telling Nesta she needs sunshine.

Solstice is meaningful to the Night Court as well but they only celebrate in the evening with "presents, music and food, sometimes feasting under the starlight". Nuala confirms that none of them go to the ceremony to celebrate the lights rebirth.

So yeah.

The Night Court has sunshine but they're not known for it (sort of like Alaska isn't known for it's sunshine in the same way Hawaii is).

The Night Court has gardens but they're not known for them in the way Spring is.

The Night Court celebrates Solstice but not to celebrate the sun's rebirth.

The Night Court doesn't seem all that interested in Nynsar, the festival for seeds and flowers, preferring to instead focus on Starfall.

But some still feel the Night Court is the right place for someone who needs sunshine, loves beautiful gardens, and would probably adore a festival like Nynsar?

[daisysouthmoore]

Warnings: Explicit (18+) angst, language, and eventual smut. (Lots of smut.)

Note: This chapter is dedicated to @sanctuaryforthelost If it hadn't been for you and your kindness, I would have never found a reason to finish what I started. It's been four years since my last update, my friends. Here's hoping I haven't lost my touch. Thank you so, so much for reading even after all this time. <3

[ Daddy’s Girl Masterlist ]

CHAPTER 16 - Nightcap

Le Bernardin was more than a meal. It was an experience. Beneath the warm and inviting glow cast from its teak ceilings, we feasted on caviar tartare, scallops in brown butter dashi, salmon in black truffle pot au feu, Parisian chocolate cake. All paired beside wines with notes specifically tailored to each artfully composed dish. It was the sort of luxe four-course meal that dream dates were made of. The kind made to set the tone for a night of blissful passion for any soon-to-be newly weds. And yet, I struggled to endure another minute of it.

I couldn’t seem to get past the insufferable sound of Benny smacking his lips between bites. I gritted my teeth as he ungratefully scarfed without bothering to acknowledge or appreciate the subtle and aromatic flavors infused with each course. This was hardly an experience to him. Since the day he was born he’d been served heaping silver spoonfuls from lavish silver platters. It meant nothing to him but the least he could do was pretend to give a shit.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about. The scallops were decent at best.” Benny picked and sucked his teeth as we settled into the car.

“Really? I thought it was fabulous.” I sighed and tried not to visibly scowl.

“You’re a New Yorker. Of course you did.” He snorted in contempt.

“Well, since you know so well, maybe you can take me to Paris one day for the real experience?” I forced a smile and scooted closer. I even attempted to flirt as I fiddled with his lapel.

“Paris… And you think I’m pretentious.” He mumbled as he scrolled through his phone, hardly fazed by my affection.

“So, if New York is only decent and Paris is too pretentious, is there anywhere in the world where you’re happy, darling?” I feigned humor at his arrogance.

“I’d be pretty content in bed right about now.” He sighed tiredly as he tucked his phone away in his pocket and draped an arm over my shoulder.

Though he seemed to be returning my affectionate gesture, it was more out of habit than with any physical or romantic intent. I could tell by his tone that he wasn’t interested in any sort of adventures to be found in bed. Not with me anyway. I already knew there was someone else. Maybe several. Most of the time I pretended not to care but sometimes I wondered why. What was so wrong with me? I was confident enough in my looks and it damn sure wasn’t a matter of whether or not I was good in bed. I’d built a successful career on my skills after all. A slight tingle of panic ran through me as my inevitable guilt came into question. Was that the reason? Had Benny found out? Had my past finally caught up with me? But how?

In the dark and seedy underground of the business world, the usual legalities and moral principals didn’t apply. Blackmail and sabotage ran rampant but there were still a few unspoken, loosely enforced rules. Stones that couldn’t be cast in glass houses. Prostitution was one of them. That sort of ammunition was off the table to most because they all had a hand in it. There would always be some form of collateral damage. Not to mention, I was hardly the first escort to find her fairytale ending on a wealthy man’s arm. Who would care? Unless the business man in question had nothing left to lose… Then suddenly a strong suspicion began to rise in me.

“So tell me about your day. You mentioned to Negan you were meeting with Mr. Berkley?” I asked in a deliberately innocuous tone, as if the mere mention of my former peddlers didn’t make my palms sweat.

“Yeah. Just some corporate formalities. You know, boring legal stuff.” He shrugged it off and focused his attention on his phone again. That wasn’t really all that unusual but the way his shoulders tensed was.

“Oh.” We fell silent for a brief moment as I tried to read his expression but his eyes were blankly fixated on some lengthy email. My eyes shifted as I considered dropping the subject but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling me. “Well, with a client like Berkley you must have your hands full.” I feigned a light hearted barb.

“What do you mean?” His eyes finally flicked up with a hint of skepticism.

“You said he was a shady guy didn’t you?” I asked innocently.

“Dahlia, all business men are a little shady. That’s exactly what corporate attorney’s are for.” He laughed it off in a bored way, in a way that didn’t really reach his eyes as he reflexively reached to squeeze my shoulder, like that would be enough to quell me but I felt nothing if not more suspicious.

“Well, it’s a good thing he hired you then. So what kinda shady stuff-?” I started but he abruptly cut me off with a loud and exasperated sigh.

“Jesus, Dahlia. What’s with all the questions?” He seemed to have lost his patience and my own quickly followed.

“I’m just trying to have a fucking conversation, Benny. That’s what couples do. They talk about-” I started to bicker but he had even less interest in that.

“-I talk enough about work at work. So if you don’t mind I’d like to leave it there. Can’t you just hound me about something else? Fuck’s sake…” He yanked away his arm to run a tired and flustered hand down his face.

“Just forget it.” I rolled my eyes and scowled dully out the window instead. I felt restless and unsettled. But then again, I’d felt that way for quite some time now.

***

Coincidentally, Benny and I made it back to The Sanctuary hotel well before midnight. Not that I’d been even remotely concerned with making it in time for Negan’s ‘curfew’, but I couldn’t help noting the irony. Granted, it was only by circumstance, but it wasn’t like me to be so obedient. At least not without a stern and heavy hand to convince me. The thought of it was enough to make me squirm. And while it didn’t take long for Benny to find sleep, I was far too restless to join him.

I took a moment to freshen up and let my hair down. Then I snuck away to the hotel bar for a nightcap. Nothing more. At least that’s what I told myself I was doing there but I was hardly surprised to find Negan waiting for me. He looked handsome as ever among the warm and inviting candlelight. Dapper as usual in his fitted suit that seemed to accentuate the seemingly endless length of him. And it seemed he was expecting me too when the sound of my heels caught his attention. He tucked away his phone and greeted me with a wicked and knowing grin. I knew I should have been ashamed of myself. We both knew what sort of scandalous prospects had coaxed me there to begin with. And with my fiancé peacefully sleeping only a few floors down. Yet something about that stirred up a deviant flutter inside me.

“You’re on time. That’s a fuckin first.” Negan stood and placed a swift an amiable kiss on my cheek. He even pulled out my chair for me like a perfect gentleman. But the way his eyes devoured the sight of me…

“Only by chance.” I smirked as he took my hand helped guide me to my seat. “Besides, I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“Oh, I was very fuckin serious, darlin’.” He promised as he leaned to speak in my ear so closely the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down my spine. “You look fuckin gorgeous, by the way.” He complimented in a low growl.

His hands slithered up the sides of my chair to grip the sudden tension that rolled up my neck and shoulders. His fingers lingered and glided on my goose-bumped skin before he slinked around my chair to sit across from me. I could tell by the spark of mischief in his darkened eyes that I must have been blushing just the way he’d hoped. He gestured for the bartender to bring me a drink before carrying on.

“So… Tell me about your date. How was Le Bernardin with Benjamin?” He grinned with far too much amusement as he draped one long leg over the other and patiently sipped his whiskey.

“It was lovely. The scallops were to die for.” I said matter-of-factly.

“Is that all?” He chuckled deeply.

“Well, no. The salmon was a close second.” I said remaining purposefully vague.

All the questions were a waste of time. He didn’t have to ask to know the date itself was an inevitable flop. It wasn’t news to either of us that Benny would always leave me with that insatiable craving for something more. He just wanted to hear me say it. So he leaned closer to rest his elbows on the table as if daring me to come closer. His eyes held mine with a demanding grip as he lowered his voice to a tone that vibrated my insides.

“And what about dessert?” He asked.

“Parisian chocolate cake. It was decadent.” I bit my lip as I mirrored his posture and further closed the gap between us.

“Sounds pretty fuckin’ romantic.” He smirked as he raised his dark brows inquisitively.

“It was.” I laughed and nodded reluctantly.

“And yet, here you are. All by your lonesome.” He gestured his hand at the empty bar around us.

“I’m not alone. I’m with you.” I smiled fondly.

Negan returned the same doting smile as he regarded my eyes for a long moment in silence. We savored the sound of a soft, mellow saxophone crooning in perfect harmony with a slow and melodic piano. They seemed to speak well enough for the both of us but now I wanted to say it out loud. 

I wanted to tell him how good he made me feel in these fleeting moments. How Benny never even came close. I wanted to tell him how much I wished we could erase the past and lie to ourselves, pretend like all the bad never happened. We could pick and gather the good parts, those few and far betweens. What if we could just…? I’d just parted my lips to speak the unspeakable when suddenly the bartender arrived and set a cocktail neatly before me. Negan offered him a nod of thanks before gesturing him off and turning back to me with a wink.

“A Manhattan. How fitting.” I noted nostalgically as I swirled the pick and cherry through my cocktail glass. He watched my mouth closely as I took my first sip of the amber liquid. The same rich color of his eyes. Which one was more intoxicating was debatable.

“How’s it taste?” He asked as he licked his lips.

“Like a lot of bad history.” I jested but it was the honest truth.

“Oh, well, if you don’t like it,” He reached over and plucked the Luxardo cherry from my glass.

“No way! That’s my cherry!” I gasped and playfully fussed at him.

“You just had a five star meal and you’re gonna fight me over a fuckin’ cocktail cherry?” He laughed, his gorgeous smile dimpling his cheeks.

“Come on! That’s the best part!” I resorted to a full on pout as he brought the cherry to his lips.

“I’ll say it is.” He laughed inwardly at his own adolescent innuendo before he leaned a little closer still. “Okay, brat. Take it.” His deepened voice coaxed me as he brought the cherry to my lips instead.

Our eyes met for another long and amorous gaze. As the silence and tension grew between us I found it impossible to resist his offer. So I took the dark, glazed cherry between my teeth and lapped up its sweet syrup on my tongue. I’d hoped I could have pulled off a seductive smirk but I couldn’t help grinning like a fool instead before I hid behind another sip.

“Better than Parisian chocolate?” He asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Meh.” I wrinkled my nose with a shrug of indifference.

“You little shit.” He laughed with me.

It seemed we were both charmed by the sound of each other’s laughter as our gaze lingered and we drifted even closer. So close that I felt the brush of his knee beneath the linen table. That small bit of friction was enough to spark the constant smoldering flames between us. So I stoked them further by slowly brushing my high heeled foot up the length of his calf and watched as the sensation registered in his gaze. I saw a flicker of desire followed by his usual smug smirk.

“Didn’t you tell me last time was the last time?” He said, narrowing his eyes in amusement.

“You and I both know it’s never the last time.” I confessed. 

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he reached forward to take my hand. He stared down at the rock on my finger and brushed his thumb over it with a long pause and contemplative gaze. “Tell you what, I’m gonna give you one last chance to get out while the gettin’ is fuckin’ good.” Then his eyes, those deep, penetrative, captivating eyes flickered up to capture my own in a sultry glare. “Or you just give me the word I’ll fuck your brains out right here and now.”

In a way, it felt like sitting face to face with a lion. It was reckless and dangerous but I never felt more elated, I never felt more high than I did in those fleeting moments while adrenaline coursed through me. While I waited in suspense and counted down the seconds before he pounced and ravished my body the way I so deeply yearned for. Only this time, he was giving me a choice. This time, he was giving me a fair chance to weigh my options.

I was engaged to another man. I had a diamond on my finger and flawed or not, I knew the stakes. I knew better than anyone that Negan was infamous for knowing exactly how to swoon an unsuspecting woman. Hadn’t I learned the first time? Or the second time? Or the time after that? Hadn’t he been just as toxic and selfish as Benny, if not worse? Hadn’t all of the most debilitating heart breaks of my life been by the dick of this man? This big, hard, lip smacking, sheet gripping, toe curling, earth shattering specimen of a dick? Yes. Absolutely. One thousand fucking percent. And I hadn’t learned a damn thing.

“I want it.” I said outright.

“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin get it, princess.” He promised as he reached down and snaked his long fingers into a tight grip around my ankle.

Without even the slightest bit of hesitance, he slipped my stiletto away and brought my bare foot to rest on his hardened cock already pressed tightly against his slacks. My breath hitched in surprise as he stroked my arch along his shaft. He thrust into the motion and in an instant, my panties were drenched. My clit quivered as a deep moan hummed in his chest and his eyes slid shut.

“You feel what you do to me, Sugar? How fuckin hard you make me?” Jesus christ. As if I wasn’t dripping down my seat already. “Come here.” He yanked me by the ankle.

I all but leaped across the table to straddle his lap. My head was still spinning as he wrapped me in a deep and all-consuming kiss. While his tongue greedily lapped up the lingering taste of cherry, his large hands slid up my thighs and under my skirt to clutch and squeeze my ass coaxing another needy moan from my lips. My heart raced as he stood and lifted me with him to set me on the edge of a barstool.

“Spread for me, baby. Show me what your husband-to-be is missing out on.” He said shamelessly and like a fool I obeyed him. But how could any woman with a pulse say no when he licked his grinning teeth that way?

He took a few steps back and casually shrugged away his suit jacket as if I wasn’t gawking hungrily at the way his cock tented his pants. I watched eagerly as he draped his jacket neatly aside and began meticulously rolling up his sleeves. All the while, he kept his eyes on me, gauging my expression as my own patience grew thinner. I squirmed and writhed in anticipation while he came ambling back, a smirk tugging his lips as he came to stand between my legs again. His hands came to rest on my knees and slowly slid up the tops of my thighs as he spread me further. He loomed tall and lean and perfect above me and I gazed up at him with pleading eyes as his own lowered to the sopping wet puddle I’d become. A grin slowly spread across his face.

“Damn… Look at you, babydoll. Is all this for me?” He chuckled as his hand slid down the inside of my thigh to brush over my throbbing heat.

He teased me relentlessly. Only allowing his fingertips to stroke and coax me through the sheer, damp silk of my panties. I was bucking my hips off the edge of the barstool while my body begged for a deeper touch. My voice cooed and pleaded for him but he was so painstakingly patient, drawing out every brush and swirl of his fingertips. He slipped his thumbs just beneath the hem of my panties and with a gentle tug he slowly spread my pussy open.

“Hmmngh… Negan, please…” I squirmed restlessly but he only brought a finger to his smirking lips and shushed me.

“Shh… Let me savor this fuckin moment, sweetness.” He said as he reached back down and with his thumbs made slow circles, carefully kneading my plump and supple mounds to tease the very outskirts of my clit. As my panties gathered and bunched in the cleft of my lips he taunted me further. He gripped and tugged the fabric up into his fist, wedging my panties deeper between my slit, pressing the tension against my clit. 

With his free hand he worked on his belt buckle. I writhed in anticipation. My eyes were wide and eager as he reached into his slacks. I licked my lips as his hardened cock sprung free and he stroked his fist over the length. I could already see the tip glistening with his own desire to fuck me but he wasn’t done savoring.

He tapped the head of his cock on my clit. Three hard and heavy smacks. It was enough to make me jump and quiver. I rolled my hips toward him, aching with a desperate need to feel him stretch me open. I thought my pleading moans would finally be answered as he tugged my panties aside but cruelly and relentlessly he only allowed his shaft to glide through my folds. A deep laugh resonated in his chest as he watched the head of his cock spring up and out of my panties while he fucked my clit.

“You poor, sweet thing… So sensitive… I’m willin’ to bet I could make you cum just like this.” He grinned.

“Negan…” His name dripped from my tongue in a pitiful whine.

“No. Look at me.” He said firmly as he snatched me by my chin and peered into me with a stern and demanding gaze. “I don’t give a shit about that ring on your fuckin’ finger. When you spread your pussy for me, you call me by my fuckin name. Now, who does this pussy belong to?”

“Daddy. My pussy belongs to Daddy.” I panted like a dog.

“There she is. There’s my good girl. My Sugar.” He said with affection as he pulled me into a kiss so deep I moaned into his mouth. 

His lips lingered a moment longer before he brushed his thumb across my pouting lips. And though he didn’t speak, the look in his dark and hungry eyes held me in an inquiring gaze as if preparing me for what was to come. Arousal swelled in my chest because I already knew and my body was aching to feel it. My eyes remained fixed on his as I nodded eagerly and sucked his thumb between my lips. His mouth parted just enough for a hitch of breath to escape his throat and his eyes flickered with lust. Then I felt it. The sudden and deep plunge of his cock. I threw my head back with a sharp gasp and shrill moan of agonizing bliss as the sudden intrusion made me tremble all over.

“God, yes! Daddy!” I cried out.

“Jesus fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” He gritted through his teeth as he clutched the back of my neck. He slowly pulled his hips away, gliding his cock out to the very tip before plunging back into the hilt with a lewd and wet squelch. Then again. And again. And again. “Come on, Sugar. Do that thing I like. Squeeze Daddy’s cock with that pretty little pussy.” He said, his voice bordering on a plea.

I knew the ‘thing’ he was referring to. It used to be my signature. So, I squeezed my pussy tight around his cock and in a fluid motion I scooped and rolled my hips to drag out every delectable inch. His head dropped back and he let out a long and deep groan.

“Ooohhhh ffffuuuuck yyoouuu!” He huffed out a breathless laugh as he clutched the bar to keep from losing his footing. "Still fuckin' got it don't you, Sugar?" And even though I was in the throes of my own debilitating pleasure, I couldn’t help the smug little smirk that curled my lips. It didn’t last long though. He took hold of the reins again as his long fingers raked up to curl into my hair, gripping it tightly as he pulled me down into the brute force of his thrusts that made our skin clap. 

“Tell me, baby. Does he fuck you like this? Does he make your pussy feel like this?” Negan murmured against my skin as he clutched me tightly.

“No! No one fucks me like you, Daddy! No one! No one fucks me like you! Oh god! Oh fuck! Please, don’t stop! Please, please, please!” I begged as I coiled my arms around the back of his neck.

“That’s a good girl… That’s my good fuckin’ girl.” He growled as he reached down to glide and swirl his fingers over my clit. “Now, show me. Cum for me, baby. Cum on my fuckin’ cock.”

As his skilled fingers vigorously worked my clit I could already feel it brewing. A warmth swelled and spread between my thighs and threatened to burst. And while I wished I could have held out longer, while I wished we could stay tethered to this moment where nothing else mattered, my body raced to the precipice. My mouth dropped open as a gasp hitched in my throat. And as his cognac colored eyes peered into the depths of my pleading and desperate gaze I plummeted into an orgasm so intense that my eyes rolled back. My clit throbbed and my pussy constricted around the thick and heavy girth of his cock.

“Oh fuck! Daddy! Daddy, I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m— Ahh!!” I shrieked.

“Fuck yes! Yes! That’s it, baby! Milk my fuckin’ cock! Fffffuuuuck!” Negan groaned into my hair as he coiled his arms around me and clutched me tight against his body as his own orgasm crashed through him.

***

After we came down from the heights of our pleasure, we found ourselves sprawled out on the floor of the Sanctuary bar. The quiet lounge music continued to croon faintly in the background as we basked in our afterglow. I laid with my head in his lap while Negan leaned back against the bar with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. The other hand gently brushed through my hair and for a long while we just sat there fully content in our silence. That is, until a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“What?” I lifted my head curiously.

“I was thinking about the first time I ever watched you walk into this place. That tight little black dress. Those cheap, hand me down heels. That fuckin’ faux fur coat.” He teased with a grin.

“You mean the night I threw a glass of wine in your face? —I still have that coat by the way.” I jabbed him playfully and scowled. 

“Yeah. That night.” He laughed and roughed up my hair.

“Erm! You deserved it.” I griped as I batted his hand away and raked my tousled hair away from my face.

“Yeah, I did. Probably deserved a helluva lot worse.” He admitted in a mumble.

“I don’t know. I feel like five years in prison evens it out pretty well.” I shrugged casually with a smug little smirk.

“Easy.” He warned with a side eye.

“Do you regret it?” I asked.

“Regret what?” He asked.

“That night. We could have left it at that. We could have parted ways and never looked back. Might have spared us a lot of heartache.” I suggested as I looked up into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt but he only rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be stupid.” He scoffed before taking a swig from the bottle of whiskey and I smiled faintly knowing that despite everything we’d been through, neither of us would take it back. Then I snatched the bottle from him and took a swig for myself. So, yeah, maybe it wasn’t a nightcap in the most traditional sense but it was the perfect end to an imperfect date.

Tag list: @sanctuaryforthelost @letsby @londoncapsule @galaxieeye @supernovarigel @powluhtea @stunt-lads @blooodywhxre @privatetruths @casuallyfancydonut @lucillered66 @dee-wonderwoman

As always, if you ever want to be added/removed from the tag list don’t be afraid to reach out. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I don’t own shit but my own thoughts and ideas. I also don’t mean to take credit for someone else’s hard work. If you are/know the source of the above images let me know so I can give credit where credit is due! Thanks!

[taumont]

My list of books I wish to have read by the end of the year:

Quiet Days in Clichy -- Henry Miller

La petite vertu -- James Hadley Chase

Breakfast of Champions -- Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Call at Corazon -- Paul Bowles

Solaris -- Stanislaw Lem

Slaughterhouse-Five -- Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

The Savage Detectives -- Roberto Bolano

La Boutique Obscure: 124 Dreams -- Georges Perec

Mon corps pour me guérir: décodage psychobiologique des maladies -- Christian Flèche

A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living -- Joseph Campbell

Speak, Memory -- Vladimir Nabokov

Supreme Influence: Change Your Life with the Power of the Language You Use -- Niurka

The Journey and the Guide: A practical course in Enlightment -- Maitreyabandhu

Egon Schiele: Drawings and Water-colours -- Egon Schiele, Erwin Mitsch

Taking the Leap: Freeing Ourselves from Old Habits and Fears -- Pema Chodron

Rumi Revealed: Selected Poems from the Divan of Shams -- Rassouli

Confessions of an Art Addict -- Peggy Guggenheim

The Executioner's Song -- Norman Mailer

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead -- Olga Tokarczuk

Flights -- Olga Tokarczuk

America -- Jean Baudrillard

Too Much and Not the Mood: Essays -- Durga Chew-Bose

I Had Nowhere to Go -- Jonas Mekas

Francesca Woodman -- Marco Pierini

Yves Klein -- Hannah Weitmeier

Dune (Dune #1) -- Frank Herbert

Oreillers d'herbes -- Natsume Soseki

Les Choses humaines -- Karine Tuil

The Energy of Slaves: Poems -- Leonard Cohen

Selected Writings - Antonin Artaud

The Sisters Brothers -- Patrick deWitt

Pastoralia -- George Saunders

Signs Preceding the End of the World -- Yuri Herrera

Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley -- Peter Guralnick

Break, Blow, Burn -- Camille Paglia

Voyage au bout de la nuit -- Louis-Ferdinand Céline

Philip K. Dick: In His Own Words -- Philip K. Dick

Autobiography of a Yogi -- Paramahansa Yogananda

A Confederacy of Dunces -- John Kennedy Toole

Babel -- Patti Smith

Keith Haring Journals -- Keith Haring

Foam of the Daze -- Boris Vian

Inherent Vice -- Thomas Pynchon

The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975 -- Goran Olsso

Le Diable au Corps -- Raymond Radiguet

Bluets -- Maggie Nelson

Girl, Woman, Other -- Bernardine Evaristo

Devenir un ange -- Francesca Woodman

Faithfull: An Autobiography -- Marianne Faithfull

The Master and Margarita -- Mikhail Bulgakov

Eve's Hollywood - Eve Babitz

In Watermelon Sugar -- Richard Brautigan

[halfabird]

Louise Bouteiller (1782-1828), Portrait en pied de Césarine de Houdetot, baronne de Barante, en train de lire le roman Paul et Virginie de Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, 1818

National Gallery of Victoria, Australia

[jogallice]

Aujourd’hui, lundi 20/05/24, Journée européenne de la mer 🌊 Journée mondiale de la métrologie 📏 et Journée mondiale des abeilles 🐝 Je vous souhaite un bon lundi de la Pentecôte 🥰 Poursuite du week-end prolongé pour certain·es, pas pour d’autres 🤔

Deux dictons du jour pour le prix de deux (il faut vous y faire 😆 ) : « De saint Bernardin à saint Boniface (Igor le 5 juin), c'est le beau temps qui passe. » 🌞 Pour celles et ceux qui aiment le vin : « À la saint Bernardin, compte tes barriques de vin. » 🍷

Et trois autres dictons du jour pour la route : « Pluie à la saint Bernardin, vigneron pleure ton vin. » 🍇 « S'il pleut à la saint Bernardin, tu peux dire adieu à ton vin. » 🌧 « S'il gèle à la saint Bernardin, tu peux dire adieu à ton vin. » 🥶 Bref, il faut qu’il fasse beau 😎

Pour celles et ceux qui ont un jardin : « À la saint Bernardin, au jardin plus de gelée ne craint. » 👌 « À la saint Bernardin, le citadin s'occupe de son jardin. » 👨‍🌾 « À la saint Bernardin, n'arrose pas tes salades avec du purin. » 👩‍🌾

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Bon premier jour de la semaine à tous et à toutes ⭐️

Bonne fête aux Bernardin·e 😘

📷 JamesO PhotO à Annecy le samedi 18/05/24 📸

[psalm22-6]

Source: the San Bernardine Sun, 25 December 1978 Wild to learn about the reach of the March/Laughton film from ‘35. Also this article is so funny to me because they can no longer just say Cosette, Fantine,  or Marius and assume that the reader knows who they mean so they end up saying Valjean’s ward, Valjean’s ward’s mother, and Valjean’s ward’s lover and other round about things.  Also I read in a later article that the program “drew 38 percent of the national audience, according to the Neilsen ratings, and was the week's highest-rated special.” But overall it was ninth in the week for ratings, tied with a rerun of MASH.

HOLLYWOOD  — If Victor Hugo was alive today he'd be one of the most sought-after writers by television network presidents. His stories contain all the elements deemed necessary to make a film or series successful. Most notable example is Hugo's "Les Miserables," written in 1862. Inspired by the French people seeking freedom from oppression, he wrote the now-classic tale of an impoverished man, Jean Valjean, who steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving family, and that act of survival sets off a chain reaction that includes drama, adventure, jeopardy, love, hatred and, above all, the action of the chase. CBS has picked the middle of what is usually considered an "off-week," the period between Christmas and New Year's Day when people are too preoccupied with holiday festivities to watch TV, to show the latest version of "Les Miserables," the Norman Rosemont Production in association with ITC Entertainment which occupies all three hours of CBS' prime-time programming Wednesday. It's CBS' gift-wrapped treat amid the rubble of reruns. The family that takes time out to relax from Yuletide activities will thoroughly enjoy a class production filmed in France and England in authentic surroundings that look as though no stone has been dislodged from its place since Hugo described its locale in his drama. Richard Jordan portrays Valjean, whose life is to be dogged by his obsessed pursuer, Inspector Javert, played by Anthony Perkins. As with his other revivals of the classics, "The Count of Monte Cristo," "The Man in the Iron Mask" and "The Four Feathers," all produced for both TV and theatrical release, Norman Rosemont has populated the cast with distinguished veteran actors. In his last performance, Claude Dauphin, who died recently, is seen as the kindly bishop who befriends Valjean. Sir John Gielgud is an elderly aristocrat. Celia Johnson is Valjean's housekeeper. Flora Robson is the head of a convent. Cyril Cusak is the convent's groundskeeper who provides brief refuge for the prison-escaping Valjean. Ian Holm is a greedy innkeeper. Joyce Redman is the bishop's housekeeper. 

Two young British newcomers, Caroline Langrishe and Christopher Guard, were chosen to play Valjean's pretty ward and the grandson of Gielgud. And Angela Pleasance is the beggar woman who further impedes Valjean's escape by entrusting her daughter (Langrishe) to his care. 

Of the many films on Hugo's classic (Jean Gavin as Valjean in the 1952 French movie; Gino Cervi in a 1943 Italian feature; Michael Rennie in a 1952 TV kinescope), the 1952 Warner Bros, movie with Frederic March and Charles Laughton is best remembered. 

Who can forget Laughton's Javert, having finally cornered Valjean (March) in a Paris sewer after his three-decade pursuit, shouting "The law is the law!" although, he, like Valjean, is aged and weary of this senseless pursuit. Did the specter of Laughton's dominating performance lurk in the background of this 1978 version? "No, not really," replied Glenn Jordan, who directed the $3 million production. "I saw the Laughton version twice and found very little I could use. One of the few things I thought interesting and useful was that Laughton played an eccentric. So I had Tony play it eccentrically, but in an entirely different way.

"Laughton was always Laughton in the end, not the characters he portrayed. I felt it was important to be the character Hugo intended because, after all, a lot of people have never seen those other versions or ever read the book." 

[Glenn] Jordan, who won an Emmy for the Ben Franklin specials on TV, among other citations for notable TV and stage productions, says that [Richard] Jordan, who first gained attention in TV's "The Captains and the Kings," and Perkins are much closer to the characters Hugo described in his lengthy novel. "I remember March and Laughton as being too old for their roles. They didn't really age as much as people would in real life, especially people who went through what they did. We assume Hugo's characters were about the same age in the beginning. The imprisonment period is 20 years, then a jump of five years passes, then it's 10 years more. [Really? March is such a young Jean Valjean]  "That's why it was important to cast young men who could age (via make-up and character change), rather than start out with older actors in those roles." Redoing the classics has bothered some purists who prefer to let the original versions stand on their merits. But Glenn Jordan has valid reasons for remaking a classic such as this. "The social problems of poverty and justice vs. justice, these are things, I think that are self-explanatory," he said. "But the human problems, the relations between the people are the most interesting because, it seems to me, that when you redo a classic you have to make it vivid for today's audience. "When you see older versions of such stories they are very much versions of their time and reflect the thinking of their time, including the style in which they were done." By PAUL HENMGER Gannett News Service

[strideofpride]

Six Sentence Sunday

There’s nowhere more beautiful than springtime in New York, Serena thinks to herself, as she leans her head against the glass of the window on the Metro North. There’s a cinematic quality to the way the sun seems to shine a little brighter after a long winter, the way flowers of all shades and hues begin to bloom, the way trees regrow their big, green leaves. And she should know – four of the movies she’s produced were shot in Manhattan at springtime. She crosses through Grand Central once she arrives, easily finding the town car she had her assistant send, waiting right out front for her as promised. It drops her off in front of Le Bernardin – Blair’s choice, very convenient from Nate’s office, although Serena knows from personal experience that Nate would’ve been perfectly happy with turkey on rye from any bodega.

[carnivorousous]

Jul 31, 2014 - These brilliant recipes include Le Bernardin chef Eric Ripert's tender charred octopus with black bean–pe...

[notanotherinfjblog]

MBTI fiction writers

Unfortunately, though for obvious reasons, I’m constrained by my own reading habits, so if you have any suggestions for underrepresented types here, please let me know and thanks for the ones that I’ve already received!

INTJ

Margaret Atwood

Joyce Carol Oates

Tom Rachman

ENTJ

Markus Zusak

Hank Green

Gillian Flynn 

Bernardine Evaristo 

Lois Lowry

Ruth Ozeki

INTP

Kai Meyer (interview is in German)

Neil Gaiman

J. R. R. Tolkien

ENTP

David Mitchell

Philip Pullman

John Green

Terry Pratchett

Douglas Adams

Jonathan Safran Foer

Lauren Oliver

Brandon Sanderson

Patrick Rothfuss 

Michael Ende (interview is in German)

Mariana Leky (interview is in German)

Frank Herbert

Aldous Huxley

Matt Haig

Ta-Nehisi Coates

INFJ

Rohinton Mistry

Audrey Magee

Jenny Erpenbeck (interview is in German)

ENFJ

Eleanor Catton

Alissa York

INFP

Wolfgang Koeppen (interview is in German)

Helen Oyeyemi

ENFP

Gavriel Savit

Maggie Stiefvater

Jan Philipp Zymny (interview is in German)

Stephen Chbosky

Daniel Handler

Rick Riordan

Christopher Paolini

George R. R. Martin

V. E. Schwab

Jenny-Mai Nuyen (interview is in German)

ISTJ

Astrid Lindgren

Ken Follet

Elizabeth Nunez

ESTJ

Kerstin Gier (interview is in German)

Cornelia Funke 

John Boyne

Maja Lunde

Sebastian Fitzek (interview is in German)

ISFJ

Anna Burns 

Lucinda Riley 

Jack Livings

ESFJ

Tomi Adeyemi

Victoria Aveyard

Suzanne Collins 

Raquel J. Palacio

Jojo Moyes 

Ursula K. Le Guin

Rosamunde Pilcher 

Rebecca Gablé (interview is in German)

Kirsten Boie (interview is in German)

ISTP

Jhumpa Lahiri

John Irving

Erich Kästner (interview is in German)

James Dashner 

Fredrik Backman 

ESTP

Leigh Bardugo

Sabaa Tahir

Paulo Coelho

Stephen King

Jonas Jonasson

Jussi Adler-Olsen

Erich Maria Remarque (interview is in German)

ISFP

Fatima Farheen Mirza 

Tash Aw

Andreas Izquierdo (interview is in German)

Antoine Laurain 

ESFP

Adam Silvera

Nicholas Sparks 

Cecelia Ahern

[bellenthigale]

BACKSTAGE FUN

Women have always led the way in politics and business‚ but it has only been in recent years that they have begun to fully empower one another. One of the most fascinating ideas is femininity. The particular experience of being a woman is made up of a complicated and lovely combination of traits. Because every woman experiences femininity in a unique way‚ it is so fascinating and dynamic. Every woman has a distinctive style of expressing her femininity‚ and there are a wide variety of ways to do it. Each woman expresses her femininity in her own particular way‚ whether that be by adopting stereotypically feminine traits or creating her own version of it. In order to be a strong woman‚ you must defend the moral high ground while also supporting other females. When we band together to support and encourage one another‚ women may become a powerful and important force in society. Women empowering women is prevalent in many spheres of life‚ including the business and the family. Defending each other’s rights‚ standing up for what we believe in‚ and using our voices to question the existing quo are additional ways that women may empower one another. By standing up for each other and the causes that concern us all‚ we can bring about the change we want to see in the world. Creating a supportive and respectful atmosphere is the ultimate goal of women empowering women. The goal is to create an environment in which women can fully express who they are and realize their potential. It is about supporting one another‚ having faith in one another‚ and cooperating to improve the world.

The Parisian cabaret Le Crazy Horse Saloon‚ also known as Le Crazy Horse de Paris‚ is well-known for its stage performances featuring naked female dancers as well as for its varied magic and variety “turns” in between each nude performance. In other places‚ its owners have contributed to the creation of similar cabaret and burlesque shows. The term “Crazy Horse” has been utilized in the names of unrelated enterprises. L’ART DU NU‚ which translates to “the art of being naked”‚ is a term used to describe a classy Parisian arrondissement. It is the renowned Crazy Horse‚ which has remained unmatched for almost fifty years as a revolutionary creation that exalts the female form as both an artistic expression and a source of amusement. In its exquisitely furnished theater on the Avenue George V‚ directly across the street from Yves St. Laurent and next door to the House of Balenciaga‚ the Crazy Horse show has been viewed by more than five million people. It has gone through three major stages of development since Alain Bernardin founded it. Alain Bernardin‚ an amateur artist and full-time antiques dealer‚ launched the Crazy Horse in 1951. He had long been entranced by two seemingly unrelated ideas: the American Western film genre‚ with its mythical saloons and legendary events‚ and the beauty of the female form. On May 19, 1951‚ he performed his debut performance in the cellar of a classy structure on Avenue George V‚ close to Place de l’Alma. It signified his attempt to rebel against the Left Bank and St. Germain des Pres’ post-war fashion restrictions. Bernardin was attracted by the “Taboo” nude acts that Boris Vian was staging‚ but he wanted to produce something that was more eye-catching than the standard American striptease while yet being suitable to a broad audience. On a single girl‚ without any choreography‚ he experimented with projected light and color. Along with other advances‚ he experimented with strobe-like effects. Even today‚ Doda d’Hambourg and Rita Renoir are remembered with affection as some of his dancers who went on to become legends in their own right. .The 1960s saw the beginning of a cultural and creative revolution in both France and America‚ and the Crazy Horse show adapted to the new trends in ways that boosted its notoriety and reputation as an artistic powerhouse. In addition to Pop Art and Nouveau Roman‚ New Wave Cinema‚ Neo-Realism in European art‚ Avant-Garde fashion‚ and a resurgence in interest in the performing arts‚ this was a moment of Neo-Realism. Bernardin started to turn from the unique to the group. He used one or more dancers to transform his figures into what he called “living pictures”. Each song evolved into its own spectacle with its own choreography‚ scenery‚ and lighting. There was a steady supply of fresh concepts and innovative musical accompaniment. The sublimation of art into the female form was Bernardin’s intended result. Women were art‚ and art was women.

My most recent performance was at the renowned Crazy Horse Paris cabaret in France. Even though my presence on the show wasn’t a surprise‚ when the word about it broke‚ folks were astonished and were looking forward to it‚ especially BLINKs. I can state with certainty that the audience members present at the performance were impressed with the other dancers’ and my performance, as well as our exuberant visuals‚ during the performance. I had on a stunning costume that was both seductive and comfortable‚ and I had on a pair of heels as well. For my performance‚ I danced on stage and just enjoyed it‚ much to the audience’s joy. I enthralled the audience by synchronizing my movements with the music. I performed both solo acts and ensemble songs with the rest of the cast in five special shows from September 28 to September 30 at the French cabaret. Only the fans who won tickets to the events were able to witness me play at the Crazy Horse but there was a rigorous no-recording rule there. I posted some snippets‚ some of the pictures of what I wore‚ of my enticing and appealing performances and look at the cabaret on Instagram for BLINKs who wanted to see how I dressed for the evening. You must have seen my most recent Instagram upload at this point‚ I’m hundred percent sure. What do you think of my look? Did it made your haw dropped? Just kidding. I’ll never ever forget this particular instance. The fact that my 언니‚ the other members‚ were present to encourage and supported me during my performances in the show added to its memorability. After a 14-hour flight‚ Jennie언니 arrived days after Jisoo언니 and Rosé언니 with a huge bouquet of flowers‚ but Jisoo언니 and Rosé언니 arrived on Day 1 of the show. Due to the fact that they were in Paris for YSL‚ Dior‚ and Chanel Paris Fashion Week‚ they seized the opportunity to witness and support me. They all went and supported me despite their hectic schedules‚ and I really appreciate it a lot. In addition‚ many well-known artists also visited and watched; Rosalia herself was also present‚ we had a picture together with Jisoo언니 and Rosé언니.

BLINKs! I appreciate all of your love and support‚ which you gave and showered me from the start all the way through the end of my show. You guys waited outside the venue patiently‚ and I am really touched by your unwavering support for the me‚ as well as the other members. My appearance and performance was a tremendous hit with the crowd‚ and the Crazy Horse show is known for its risqué acts. At Crazy Horse Paris‚ it was such a fantastic experience. We are grateful to everyone who contributed to making this fantastic experience possible. You guys can call me whenever you need someone to fill that place; I’m really excited and looking forward to appear on the show again.